[ Every moment is a seed that, with proper care, will one day grow into a memory. Every intimate encounter, physical or of the soul, has become a precious memory. A gift he treasures. More than the river that runs through their home or the surrounding woods. He's insistent, in his folly, because he wants to understand how to keep those seeds growing, afraid of watching them go dormant.
The face he finds when looks up is one he cherishes. If he were blind, he'd cherish his voice. This time when they lock eyes, he gets lost in the silver light. Their lips meet, and it feels like a memory born, a tender moment.
I'm here.
Another whispered secret. He can't keep track of them all. This time, he doesn't try to understand. He accepts the gift with humble hands, and as the last whisper finds its way through the haze of their kisses, his fingers grip his hips, not leisurely, but to make their presence known.
I'm here, too.
He turns his head where Allen wants him to without an ounce of resistance. Yielding himself, the way he would never do for another, in a rare show of trust. Not rare for Allen, but anyone else.
His eyes close, against his lips, his heart filling with affection. His skin grows hearted from it, and ice blooms in his blood to keep the balance. ]
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The face he finds when looks up is one he cherishes. If he were blind, he'd cherish his voice. This time when they lock eyes, he gets lost in the silver light. Their lips meet, and it feels like a memory born, a tender moment.
I'm here.
Another whispered secret. He can't keep track of them all. This time, he doesn't try to understand. He accepts the gift with humble hands, and as the last whisper finds its way through the haze of their kisses, his fingers grip his hips, not leisurely, but to make their presence known.
I'm here, too.
He turns his head where Allen wants him to without an ounce of resistance. Yielding himself, the way he would never do for another, in a rare show of trust. Not rare for Allen, but anyone else.
His eyes close, against his lips, his heart filling with affection. His skin grows hearted from it, and ice blooms in his blood to keep the balance. ]
I want... [ He says between kisses. ] Can I--
Your shirt?