Oliver stared at Al as he felt his heart rate drop and pick up again; could this really be the little boy that he'd once raised?
The tan skin and darker complexion drew the fairer man's gaze and his tough yet secretly kind exterior tempted Oliver.
The Brit gulped as he stared at the other.
He couldn't help wanting him, to hear him sing, to taste his vegan lips, to feel those powerful arms around him, and to whisper rough yet gentle words in his ear.
He wanted that yet so much more; he really wished that it was easier to ask for and easier to say.
How could he put his feelings in to words when words seemed irrelevant compared to this feeling and everything that it entailed?
His blue pink eyes captured on blood red ones, and Oliver felt a tremor run down his spine; it was overwhelmingly pleasant and made him feel weaker in the knees, and Oliver worried about being able to remain standing under such a powerful and attractive stare.
Oliver's heart raced just beneath the surface enough to make him crave for more, so much more.
His heart wanted what Oliver's mind told him was impossible; what would win out of the two?
Could it be his logical side that claimed that he raised him or his romantic side that saw the beauty of what they could be?
Oliver knew that whatever he did, it would be giving up in a sense as one side wins out over the other.
May be it was fine that his heart won and that logic wasn't the reigning champ.
Oliver felt rough yet gentle lips encase his own, and nothing else mattered, be it logic or anything else that could hold himself back from this moment.
Whispered, mere mutters, of I love you meant more than anything Oliver could ever imagine.
How could he ever give this up; the answer: he couldn't.
Ollie smiled as he relaxed against lips that were larger than his own, and arms that protected and nourished him.