Normally when Gethin was awake at one in the morning it was because of Jonathan. However, the latter had comfortably nestled his face in the crook of Gethin's neck before dozing off into a dreamless sleep. Jonathan's body draped across his kept him warm from the harsh temperatures of the season.

In an attempt to keep his lover just as warm, Gethin pulled the patchwork quilt around Jonathan's shoulders and gathered him closer in his arms. As exhausted as he was from the previous night's carouse, Gethin could find no solace in Sian's house.

He kept mulling over his conversation with Hefina about the words he had said, or not said in his case, to his estranged mother. Every conversation he could imagine having with his mother ended exactly as it did the day she told him to get out of her house. Hope for reconciliation had long left Gethin's heart; it was replaced with the elegiac persona he now displayed.

Gethin didn't realize he was clenching the back of Jonathan's shirt in his fist until he felt Jonathan stir in his sleep. Jonathan lifted his head and peered at Gethin with lethargy; the only lighting coming from the outside the window on Gethin's left.

"What are you doing up, Geth?" Jonathan muttered. He went to raise himself up on his elbows so he could wipe the sleep from his eyes.
Gethin attempted to pull him back down, murmuring "Go back to sleep, Jonathan."

Jonathan squinted at him and Gethin could see he had made up his mind to question this further. "What's wrong, love?" said Jonathan propping himself up on his elbow and resting his head in one hand while the other rested on Gethin's chest.

Gethin wrapped his hand around Jonathan's and held it firmly to his chest, just staring mutely at the off-white ceiling. Both waited in silence for a couple minutes, Jonathan staring at Gethin and Gethin staring at the shabby ceiling.

Finally, Gethin turned his head and met Jonathan's gaze and he saw Jonathan staring at him with the same patience he had always had for Gethin. Despite Gethin's ineptitude with words, something he found extremely ironic considering he owned a bookstore, Jonathan always waited for him to find the right ones.

Sometimes when Gethin couldn't find a way to say it, Jonathan would turn on a song and let Gethin show him. That's how Gethin first told him he loved him. He could forget the song, the place, and the date but he'd always remember Gethin putting his arm around Jonathan's shoulders and letting him lead him around the living room of his tiny apartment.

Jonathan listened as Gethin imparted the conversation that had taken place between him and Hefina.

"Well?" Jonathan spoke once Gethin had finished.

"Well what?"
"Well what are you going to do?" Jonathan replied.

"I didn't know that I had to do anything" Gethin responded getting defensive.

Jonathan smiled affectionately and said "Of course you don't, love… but don't you think it's about time that you did?"
Gethin searched Jonathan's face as if he could find the right answer hidden there.

"I'm not saying that you shouldn't have left, and I'm not saying you shouldn't tell her to fuck off if she still subscribes to the prejudice preaching's of society." Jonathan continues. "I'm just saying… you'll never know if you don't try, right?"

Gethin started to feel slightly sick at the thought of facing his past but the hand he still held against his heart reminded him that if things didn't work out with his mother, he wouldn't be alone in this great wide world, as he was the first time.

As if reading his thoughts, Jonathan added "I'll be waiting right here for you no matter the outcome. I promise".

Gethin smiled and brought his hand up to Jonathan's mass of golden curls and pulled him down for a kiss. Jonathan complied and ran his hand down the side of Gethin's body, resting his hand on his hip where he rubbed his thumb in soothing circles.

They lied on the floor, the quilt long forgotten as they sought warmth in each other's arms, until the sky turned a pale grey. Gethin decided to leave before the others woke to avoid unwanted discussion about his trip.

Jonathan walked with Gethin out to the van, with a pink shawl wrapped around him at Gethin's insistence. He held out the keys to Gethin who hesitated before accepting them and putting them in his jacket pocket.

"You can do this, darling" Jonathan encouraged and encircled Gethin in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of his dark hair. Gethin finally responded by tightly wrapping his arms around Jonathan as if he could extract the strength he needed from his partner.

He reluctantly let go of Jonathan and climbed into the driver's seat. Jonathan stood back and watched as he drove off into the early morning sunrise. He waited until the van was completely out of sight before pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and placing it between his lips while he fumbled for the lighter.

He sat on the porch and smoked while he watched the sun rise over that god-forsaken hellhole he had agreed to help save, despite their probable failure.

He didn't know why he agreed; maybe he had a thing for fighting impossible odds.