Following an evening's activity, Bunny is asleep in Raffles bed, whilst Raffles muses aloud.
A first time story.
Written: June 2005. Word count: 430.
is asleep in my bed, a place I have always longed for him to be. Tonight was too
risky; even I who am used to this life was unnerved. My poor rabbit's legs
barely held him up on our walk home, and I took shameless advantage of being
able to hold his arm more tightly than is usually permitted.
I know that he is in love with me, just as I am with him. What I do not know is whether he knows that he is in love with me. I also know not what he would do if he were prepared to admit to his feelings. I myself have never been bound by laws that do not appeal to me, my Bunny is less liberated.
Sometimes I feel guilty for having dragged him into this lifestyle of mine; for having taken advantage of my knowledge of his affection for me, for using that knowledge to my own ends.
Sometimes - not always.
I could no longer walk away from Bunny, than he could walk away from me. We are bound by more than the old school tie, by more than our nighttime endeavours, by more than mere friendship. We are tied together by love, a fraternal love that goes deeper than just brotherhood.
I will never, must never, tell Bunny, nor let him see how I feel. I cannot; because if he did know, he would succumb to me, just as he yields to my will in other ways. No, if we are ever to become more than fraternal lovers, it must be Bunny, not I, who makes the first move.
He is sleeping deeply, so I shall risk a touch. The kind of touch I would not dare to make whilst he is awake. I lean forward and brush a lock of his hair from his forehead. His skin is warm, slightly damp, and soft. I long to put my lips to it, but I shall resist the lure, just as I resist other temptations.
His eyelids begin to move; he is awakening. I start to pull back, but he is too quick for me. His eyes part and his lips twitch in a soft smile, the kind I have only ever seen him bestow on a young lady. He catches my hand, and pulls it to his lips. They too are warm and soft, and the kiss, for that is what it is, is the sweetest I have ever experienced.
"Raffles," he sighs, reaching up behind my head to pull it down towards him. "My Raffles."
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