Rafael loved Sonny.
Rafael loved Sonny a lot.
Rafael didn't think he'd ever loved someone the way he loved Sonny.
Rafael knew he'd never loved someone the way he loved Sonny.
Rafael hadn't told Sonny.
Rafael was scared to tell Sonny.
Sonny, who was sleeping next to him in bed.
Sonny, whose fluffy, sex-mussed hair was falling so endearingly across his forehead, tickling his eyelashes.
Rafael imagined what Sonny would do if he were awake, with his fair falling into his eyes like that; he'd probably thread his bony fingers into the floppy mass, push it back from his eyes with a scowl.
Rafael loved Sonny's hair when it was loose and natural, curling against the back of his neck.
He loved how Sonny's little curls framed his face, made him look even sweeter.
Rafael loved tangling his hands into Sonny's hair, how soft and thick each individual strand felt in between his fingers.
He loved using Sonny's hair to pull him closer, to hold him in place as they kissed, as their breathing intertwined in the small span of space between their mouths.
Rafael loved Sonny.
Rafael wanted to tell Sonny.
Rafael needed to tell Sonny.
Sonny, who was curled around his body in a way that made Rafael wonder how two complete opposites pieced together so perfectly.
Sonny, who's flushed, soft chest was moving slowly against the sides of Rafael's ribs with every inhale he took.
Rafael loved Sonny's chest, loved the wiry muscles his fingernails so often had the pleasure of scraping over.
Rafael loved the strong heartbeat underneath that chest, the one he pressed his lips to when he needed the reminder that yes, Sonny was here, and yes, Sonny hadn't left, and yes, Sonny would stay.
Rafael loved the steady heartbeat underneath that chest; it told him that Sonny was never ending.
That Sonny would always stay.
Sonny, whose nose was pressed deep in the slope of Rafael's collarbone.
Sonny, whose lips were ghosting across the skin underneath; parted, open, muffled snores sending goosebumps prickling along Rafael's chest.
Sonny, whose knobby knee was digging into Rafael's thigh.
Sonny, whose hand was splayed loosely over the soft curve of Rafael's stomach.
Sonny, whose hand was in Rafael's own.
Fingers interlaced.
Rafael used to hate cuddling.
Rafael used to pretend to hate cuddling, too.
Rafael used to define cuddling as a, "disgustingly clingy" and "morbidly affectionate" activity.
"Shows too much love".
Rafael used to be afraid of love.
Rafael was afraid of love, for a long time.
Love wasn't tangible or concrete, like the facts presented in a case; love couldn't be studied or known.
Love often came with 'ifs' and 'buts' that Rafael had no interest in being on the receiving end of.
Love was wishy-washy and temperamental, like the glassy waves pounding off of the Miami coast.
Love wasn't permanent; love couldn't be permanent, because every time someone had ever said the word "love", Rafael was left reeling with a deeper, less-temporary wound which couldn't be easily mended.
Sonny was permanent.
Sonny was love.
Rafael was sure of that.
Sonny was so many, ineffable things.
Sonny was warmth.
Sonny was Rafael's warmth.
Sonny would always smile at Rafael from the depths of the courtroom gallery, blue eyes alight.
Proud, like he knew Rafael would win even before the jury did.
Sonny was strength.
Sonny was Rafael's strength.
Sonny would hold Rafael close in bed after tough days at work; silent, because Sonny knew sometimes he just needed to be held without the kisses or words of comfort.
Sonny was love.
Sonny was Rafael's love.
Sonny would rub their noses together, would kiss his cheek while they waited in line at the grocery store check-out, would nuzzle into his neck during rainy movie nights on the couch, and Rafael had never felt so adored.
So loved.
Rafael loved Sonny.
Rafael loved Sonny in the way he'd only ever dreamed of loving another person.
In the way that he'd thought impossible, until Sonny.
Rafael should tell Sonny.
Rafael would tell Sonny.
Maybe, one day, Rafael would tell Sonny when he was actually awake.
Baby steps, he supposed.
"Hey, love," he whispered.
He kissed the tip of Sonny's nose.
It was really just a brush of lips, a quick, unintelligible thing, because he didn't want to wake Sonny up.
Rafael chuckled.
"I suppose I should call you that some time when you're conscious," he continued.
Sonny was so beautiful when he was asleep.
Quiet and innocent; angelic.
Rafael loved Sonny.
"I just wanted to let you know – ". He paused, grip around Sonny's hand tightening.
"I just wanted to let you know that you're the best decision I've ever made."
Rafael let go of Sonny's hand, moved him by his wrist until his palm was lying flat over Rafael's heart.
He held on to Sonny's wrist, pulse ticking beneath his thumb.
"I wish I'd found you sooner," he said, plainly.
Rafael didn't think he'd ever said something so weighted down with truth.
He placed a kiss to the underside of Sonny's thin wrist.
"But we're going to have so many years together now that I have. We're going to grow old together, Sonny. That's something you'd like, yeah?"
He kissed Sonny's wrist a second time.
"Forever could never be long enough with you."
His fingertips grazed down Sonny's cheek and jaw.
He held them there, because he wanted to touch Sonny's face.
Often, at night, his hands found Sonny's face.
His cheeks, his lips, his nose, his chin.
Sometimes, Rafael needed the reassurance that what he was feeling was real.
That the body beside him was real.
That Sonny was real.
So, he touched his face.
"But we'll start with a lifetime. I think that could be enough. And maybe, one day, I'll tell you that I love you, when you're awake."
Sonny's hand on his heart felt so warm.
"I'll tell you that I love the way you text me all those stupid, little facts you find on the Internet throughout the day, because you know I just pretend to hate them and that I'm actually, normally, pretty amused by it and you."
"I'll tell you that I love the way you read when you're sitting on my sofa, when you do that adorable criss-cross thing with your legs so you can fit, because you're so ridiculously long."
"I'll tell you that I love the way you wake up early to make me coffee in the morning, every morning, even though I know that you're exhausted because you work harder and longer hours than me."
"I'll tell you that I love all of the little things about you. Your dimples, your quirky taste in movies, the freckles low on your belly, the little face you make when you're engrossed in a new novel."
"I'll tell you that I want this to be permanent. That I want us to be permanent. That I want it to be just you and me, together, always. Sonny and Rafael, together, always."
"I'll tell you that I love you, Sonny. I'll love you always."
Rafael let his hand fall from Sonny's face, close over Sonny's hand once more.
He didn't need to be reminded.
He shifted a little, until his chin was settled on Sonny's head, resting in his dirty blond curls.
He let his eyes drift closed.
Maybe, one day.
Maybe even tomorrow, he thought.
He felt movement against his chest.
He felt the sheets moving back and forth around he and Sonny's bare skin.
Sonny.
Sonny was moving.
Sonny was moving, Sonny was kissing his forehead.
Sonny's hand was still so firm against his heart.
Sonny's eyes were open.
Sonny was smiling.
Sonny was whispering.
"I'll tell you that I love you, too, Rafi. I'll love you always."
Or maybe, tonight.
Tonight, when it was just the two of them, always.
Sonny and Rafael, always.
Sonny and Rafael, with quiet stillness and moonlight enveloping them.
Always.
Rafael really loved Sonny.