His eyes dart up to meet the other boy's amber gaze, which immediately softens. His irises are like melted caramel; they flicker back and forth as they search his face, pausing for a moment when his tongue slides over his lips for a split second, wetting them. He forces his eyes back up for a split second before moving forward and satisfying his want to too be able to taste the boy's lips.
He will never forget that taste, nor let it grow old.
They are lovers of eight years, since they were fools in love at seventeen--yet every time they kiss it is with the same searing passion there when they first met. And this passion isn't just about lust. It's about the love they share.
No one knows what love is.
Some say it's the answer, some say it's a lie.
There are skeptics and there are true believers.
Though whatever the specifics, love has followed them like a shadow with every step they take, every move they make.
Including the smooth, deft ones they do now.
The first boy absentmindedly tangles his fingers in the second's thick hair, exploring with his tongue the depths of his partner's mouth while he softly drags his fingers up and down the left side. That hand, at one point, moves all the way up to the man's shoulder and gently pushes it down so his back is against the mattress. He stares down dreamily for a moment at him, taking in the way the moonlight filters through the blinds and casts fragments of light on his pale skin. The boy turns his head to the side, breaking eye contact. His profile is extremely androgynous, maybe to the point where he could be mistaken for female if it weren't for the fact that his whole body is exposed, as it is, showing that he is obviously male.
He turns back to look at his lover, mahogany locks falling around his face as he does so.
The boy above him slowly lowers his weight down onto him, breathing reassuring words onto his neck. He shudders at the whispers, replying with a monosyllabic murmur: the other's name. That one leans closer, allowing the boy's lips to brush against his own, and then breathes in his sweet scent one last time before closing the distance between them.
The kiss is short-lived this time, with him pulling away after briefly slipping his tongue into the boy's mouth, earning a whine.
That taste again.
The first of the two adjusts so his legs are on either side of the other's body, not underneath, and pulls him back down so that their bare chests are pressed together.
"William," he finally responds, turning his face so that his forehead and nose lightly touch the side of his neck. William shivers again, reaching for his partner's wrist and gripping tightly while his other hand pulls the sheet halfway up over them to shield them from the prying eyes of the walls.
For these moments belong to them and them alone. This perfection, this immaculate, untouchable beauty...nothing rivals it.
This is true love.
