Brothers In Arms

A coat of rich and deep blue,

The powdered white carefully hides the fiery red,

Against the moonlight, his skin is creamy and pale.

A relic of boyhood- he was always shy.

He loved to hear his laugh.

It started with the lightest touch.

Light and accidental, an innocent first touch.

The sky shone blue.

He assured him and gave a small laugh.

His eyes fell downcast, the rising heat brushing cheeks with red.

He looked back up, not feeling so shy,

Slowly a hand is raised, trembling and pale.

He marvels at how the sun hasn't touched the skin, glowing and pale.

He takes his hand in his, guiding the new touch.

He swallows; like his heat, his guided hand is shy.

The sea sparkles in the moonlight.

Shoulder-length hair falls loose from the tie in a shower of red.

A quiet laugh.

It is soft and gentle to his ears, the unhindered laugh.

The moon reflects the calm sea, her face pale.

He threads his fingers through layers of silky red,

He finds out he is ticklish, he elicits that laugh.

Beneath the hot sun, the sea shines blue.

They have come far from the first touches, so timid and shy.

Inside, he sees the true nature of his lover, beneath the shy exterior.

He is the known flirt: he teases, the ladies laugh.

Gold brocade glints in the midday sun, shining against blue.

Against the flicker of the candlelight, his skin is ghostly white and pale.

His fingers trace the arm of the chair, skin is what they long to touch.

Against the white bandage, the blood glows red.

The fever has set in, flushed and red.

He is withdrawn and quiet again: without his half, he is shy.

Burning with warmth and desire, the hands roam with feverish touch

He embraced his love; he can felt he tear-filled laugh.

One is white with worry, the other with the sickly pale.

It will be a time before he will dawn the uniform of regal blue.

Together, they quietly laugh.

Not wanting to hurt him, his fingertips are tender and shy.

They are brothers in arms, together in blue.