Lost, But Not Forgotten
Their mistake, Citan would later reflect, was in letting the conversation lapse on the deck of the unseen Yggdrasil where they had spoken late into the night.
A long-forgotten glint came into Citan's eyes just then, and before Sigurd could blink he was pulled toward the other. Citan noted with satisfaction the familiar feeling of desert-tanned skin against his hand, 'hmm'ing lightly at Sigurd's warmth and the mundane miracle of how well they still fit together.
"Hyu," Sigurd breathed, and they were ricocheted back into the present: grown men staring at the desert, standing side by side, an eternity apart.