The Drabble of Soft-Bellied Bill

It's soft and flat but for a little sweep where it curves down, a tiny round, shadows marking where it flattens into the firm muscles. The skin's soft, like silk, and moves with his touch, unless Bill sucks in his stomach but he hardly ever does anymore. The side of his face pressed against that soft belly Tom's whole world moves with the rhythm of Bill's breath, warm skin, velvety against his cheek; closing his eyes, laying one palm flat on that tiny swell, moulding it against his hand, Tom falls asleep to the light gurgling of that soft pillow.

Written some time ago for [personal profile] emseviltwin since we both share an obsession for Bill's belly and it was just too cute not to share it with the rest of my flist :)
Current Music: The Mysterious Affair at Styles (audiobook) - Agatha Christie
Current Mood: awake
Current Location: home
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