Alfons had the crazy thought of Edward as a fallen star. It was easy enough to imagine; the other man looked like the sun, all golden and honey tones. Even his eyes, half-lidded now from sated pleasure were a sun-kissed gold.
Alfons kissed his fallen sun lightly, curling up against him tightly. The sun smiled at him, and it lit up his world; Alfons felt like his gravity reversed itself with that smile, that hard-earned smile, so rarely seen outside of the bedroom.
Alfons kissed him again, promising himself he'd never let the golden sun go out.