Leonard fidgeted where he sat on the bench, overlooking the calm sea. Not one soul was around to enjoy the moment of serenity and only the sounds of the waves crashing at the side of the ship were there to accompany him. That and the stars up above. Shining brighter than he has ever seen them, he felt like the stars were guiding them back home. They were leading them away from the deep, dark ocean and pull them back to the safety of the land. He felt silly thinking that, the stars weren't going anywhere. They weren't moving at a speed Len could observe if they were moving at all.
He wasn't scared gazing at the moonless sky or leaning against the railing, nothing but a bunch of metal bars keeping him from meeting a cold, untimely end in the bottomless, salty waters. That should have been his first clue. Something was way off with him. Yet, it didn't register at first and he resumed his position by the railings, thinking of the absence of his bizarre dreams and how little that made him happy. He was calm like the ocean but also, restless like the waves.
He rubbed his eyes, feeling the aftereffects of his all day long escapades with the fine wine he acquired from a mysterious gentleman. He had seen the way Madam Chapel glued his eyes on him, not in an 'I want to do you' way but rather 'You are going to drown in that bottle and I won't lift a finger to help you' way. There was a distinctive difference between the bedroom eyes and disappointment after all and McCoy had mastered in telling them apart despite his obvious disadvantage. He didn't blame the woman for that, he had had a good morning which quickly turned sour after Jim left. Some random nobleman picking a fight with him over a misunderstanding involving a cigar. Everyone being on edge due to the prolonged times they had to spend in close quarters was also grinding on people's nerves, making them flare quicker than usual. McCoy would sympathise with them. Except, he didn't. Despite all the expected burst of anger, the world still seemed pleasant in his eyes and he remained composed. Now, that was scary.
The opening sound of a door echoed in the night, taking his mind off his musings and he eagerly turned around. "Please, tell me that's what I think it is!" Lenord rejoiced at the sight of Jim appearing in the doorway to the outer deck with a dusty bottle and two crystal glasses.
"Yes, it is a Scottish 1870, Dewar's single malt. You can thank me all night long" Jim replied arrogantly. He had ditched his usual carefully selected attire and had opted to wear a plain shirt with a high collar and suspenders fastened to a pair of loose trousers tucked into short boots.
"You wonderful bastard. What did you trade for this, your soul?"
"Something like that," Jim beamed, passing him both of the glasses so that he could open the bottle. The heavy scent of cigars reached his nostrils as the young man struggled with the lid. Len sat back and enjoyed the scene where he could see the beads of sweat gathered on Jim's chest and neck, glistening in the dim lights of the deck. A familiar urge rose up in him, begging him to touch the scarce blond hair visible within the open collar, to caress the neck and nibble at the base of his chin where his beard began. To feel the raw skin under his fingertips.
Leonard jerked awake from his self-inflicted delusions at the sound of Jim's triumph over the lid. He put the glasses down, stripped off his long coat and draped it over Jim's shaking shoulders. He got in closer than intended and his voice sounded thicker than usual but neither was complaining "Here, you are going to catch your death if the wind picks up"
"Thanks," Jim muttered, clinging closer to the coat and flashing him a heartfelt smile. He took a careful step back and gestured at the glasses so that he could fill them up with healthy amounts of the light brown liquid. "A challenge has been won. That's what matters at the end of the day" he cheered and clung his glass with Leonard's, earning a similar smirk in return.
"Pity, you didn't ask for anything in return. It is a drink to die for." Len sipped his glass and Jim almost choked on his. He allowed him a moment to get his breathing back to normal while savouring the smooth, heavenly scotch. "I hope it is the real deal. I heard some nasty stories about the illegal stuff they had banned"
"Hey, it doesn't taste like kerosene, so it's ought to be legit," was Jim's simple reply. Leonard nodded as he looked Jim over and his eyes got stuck on a small glint on his finger. He considered not being nosy but curiosity won at the end.
"So, what is up with the ring? Is there a story behind it or it's just a fashion accessory?"
Jim choked a little on his drink this time. He became pink to the ears which Len found to be rather fitting colour on him. "It belongs to an old friend. I am keeping it safe for now."
"You are a real goody two shoes, aren't you?" He said without glancing away. When his lingering gaze took too long to rose up to Jim's eyes, the blond man licked his lips, almost as if he was teasing and daring him to take a final risk. The bait, the invitation was there but there wasn't enough courage nor alcohol in him to help him push towards that risk. He swallowed hard while worrying the mouth of the glass and tried to focus on the reality before him. It was a difficult feat with Jim standing close enough that he could practically feel his breath on his neck.
"There was a-" Leonard started, trying to remember the last memory like a dream he had had two nights ago. Jim hummed, urging him to continue and Leonard described the vivid image of a grey-walled room which housed a single bed, strange machinery that he didn't recognise and blue, golden striped overshirts in a wardrobe. He then detailed a large saloon with a wide window looking out to the dark space as if they were swimming amongst the stars. In this room, there were two people sitting side by side and sipping colourful beverages. A blur of gold was what he could see in the corner of his eyes yet the sense pride he felt for the other man was unmistakenly strong. They were born to be up there because everywhere else felt too wrong to be.
Len finished sharing his dream whereas Jim stood with his mouth hanging open, unable to respond to him. Having rendered Jim Kirk speechless, the doctor decided that he had earned the refill with the fine scotch and poured some into both their glasses.
Everyone else was too wrong to be with. Len didn't add it to the end but kept the thought close to his heart, hiding it from Jim. He had a vague guess that Jim already gathered it as well but he didn't say anything for a while. Honestly, he had been expecting the kind of glee that appeared in Jim's eyes each and every time he had mentioned another bizarre dream to him. He was aware that those dreams were too odd to have anything to do with his real memories so it was completely pointless to be happy about seeing them but Jim had always shown to have a different perspective. Yet, this time around, when he glimpsed at the stunning blue eyes, only sadness was evident.
"Jim," he whispered softly and put a hand on his shoulder. The captain blinked away tears that were barely visible and ran his fingers through his hair, his hand falling down on Len's wrist and gently holding onto him.
"It sounded like a stunning dream. To be amongst the stars, to be with your better half... or the closest thing you can get in its stead" There was a tremor in his voice that Len didn't particularly like and to make Jim feel better he caressed the junction between the captain's neck and shoulder. His fingers grazed the short hair at the back of his head, while his thumb rubbed small circles beneath his ear. It worked like a charm. Jim's tense shoulders relaxed, as he directed them towards the bench.
They slumped down together. There was an intense moment which passed without either of them doing anything but gaze into each other's eyes, looking but failing to find something that was once crucial. Jim gave up first, his head rolling back towards the sky. His drink was forgotten in his palm but McCoy's wasn't. In the silence that followed, while Jim managed to finish his first drink, Len downed three more glasses. Before he knew it, with the assistance of the booze, his fatigue caught up with him. The lullabies of the waves and the distant music from the saloon put him to sleep on the hard cold bench and he dozed off dreaming of a quieter ship and a warmer bed.
,,,,
It was Jim who unwrapped Leonard from the impossible fetal position he had curled into. It took great effort to unbind the doctor into a less awkward position by his side after rescuing the strongly held glass. He simply continued to nurse his second glass, his mind heavy with all that was to come. Jim discovered why McCoy liked it so much up on that deck, as his friend kept on sleeping by his side. The stars were bare and captivating in their beauty. With the lack of the city lights, it was almost as if they were back up in space in their ship. Just two guys bickering in the bar at their home.
His arm started to go numb under Bones' full weight but he made no attempt to remove it. What he did was to snuggle in closer to Bones.
That's when Leonard's eyes fluttered open. As he came to it, he realised that his whole torso was leaning against a bulky, warm body, his head resting uncomfortably on a bony shoulder. His arms were draped all over that same body, as well. His consciousness supplied him with nothing as to his whereabouts or his company. He didn't complain, because the warmth, the scents and the body felt right like he was meant to hold onto this person and never let go. His treacherous brain, on the other hand, was feeding him clues about the sound of the sea and a very specific handsome blond. The images took a moment to fit into the blanks but then he recalled the cool breeze from the ocean, the smoked taste of aged whisky and the biggest shining star of the night that was named Jim Kirk.
He spent an embarrassing second to come to terms with the fact that he had wrapped the blond man in an embrace which an octopus would envy. He, a grown ass man was basically cuddling the captain of the ship, another grown ass man, in the middle of the observation deck.
Needless to say, Leonard was in no condition to form any coherent sentences, let alone give a proper apology to Jim before jumping away from the man and cleaning the pooled drool on his shoulder.
"Oh God! Sorry," Len stuttered, a blush creeping its way up to his neck. His dignity, as well as his almost non-existing reputation, was damaged beyond repair.
"Don't fret, Bones," Jim replied drowsily "You fell asleep with a gorgeous human pillow. It happens"
"What did you call me?" The sudden question caught Jim off guard. He swirled his drink and focused on the whisky, trying to act nonchalant.
"I said, don't fret, McCoy" he backtracked, cursing himself and praying that Leonard would drop the subject in the meantime. He didn't.
"No! You said; Bones. Why?"
"You are clearly still asleep, old man." Jim tried to salvage what's left of his lie, then decided that it wasn't going to cut it. Not with the arched eyebrow directed at him, clearly calling him out on his bullshit. He debated with himself overcoming clean with him; eventually, he would have to. So why not start right away? "It's a stupid nickname I thought you might like. It doesn't matter." Maybe, the partial truth was better.
"It matters," Leonard insisted "Because I heard that name in my dreams. Someone called out to me, screamed at me with that name. The sound of those two syllables echoes every time they are muttered around me. It must mean something!"
Jim shook his head, unsure of how to respond and Len let out an infuriated sigh, dropping down to the bench. His shaky hand grasped the rim of the glass, shoving it towards Jim for a refill who obliged reluctantly. A tense silence, much different from the one before stretched on until Leonard finished his drink. When he spoke next, his voice was strained and thick "You are hiding something, kid. I assure you I will find out what it is"
I have no doubt about it, Bones Jim wanted to reply but before he could open his mouth, the glass in Leonard's hand slipped and hit the metal floor, shattering with a high pitched sound. Leonard's heavy body followed after the glass. As he was about to dip forward and hit the ground, Jim surged forward and caught him with both hands. A cold fear covered Jim's heart at the sight of Bones' motionless body, but unfortunately, that would be only a temporary problem as his body began seizing and shaking uncontrollably.
,,,,
He dreamed of an endless, blue ocean, at first. He was standing on the edge of a mirror, looking down at the water and at his sad reflections. There was blue on him as well, it allowed him to disappear within the ocean surface, turning invisible. As if he were becoming one with it. He never once considered himself similar to the ocean, yet the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He always held onto his anger like a sudden storm appearing amidst the ocean, unleashing a force to be reckoned with. During the downtime, his calmness offered a sanctuary from the dangers of the deep seas.
The ocean wasn't the only captivating things in his line of sight; The sun was out but he knew the stars were out there, even if he couldn't see them. A voice called out from the depths of the ocean and drew his attention back downwards. A body floated up to the surface, eyes closed, body dry as if it was frozen and couldn't quite meltdown yet in the water. The dirty blond hair was familiar to him, but the unmoving chest and the lack of energy were not. He recognised him anyway; Jim.
If Leonard was the ocean, then Jim was a star, a constellation even. A collection of stars that never burnt out, always providing light on the darkest road. Something tangible and trustworthy. Warm and strong. He was real and he was alive. Wasn't he? Or maybe he was a comet who flared brightly for a few precious moment only to crash and burn out just as quickly. Abandoned, left to die alone...
Why? he whispered to himself. Why had he just worried himself over that? Why even think about it all? He didn't get answers right away and the body kept on floating, kept on taunting him to jump into the ocean and follow in the footsteps of the dead.
The second dream was less merciful.
He saw body bags, explosions, an immense amount of pain as his medical team suffered through an attack. People, his friends being subjected to the horrors of war, in agony as the ship around them broke and the walls crumbled. They were dying left and right, and there was nothing he could do. He felt the helplessness, oh so similar to when he woke up on the shore of Crosby. He was unable to help, to revive his fallen crewmembers, his friends. He had failed them. But most of all, he felt the burning shame of not being able to save his captain, his best friend. The man he would die for. As he laid in the bag, unmoving, surrounded by nothing but death, all Leonard could do was to stare blankly, blame himself and think; why wasn't I with him at the end?
He gained consciousness but the cost was high. His eyes were blurry and his vision was fuzzy. He had no means to tell heads from tails. He was a sobbing mess, with tears in his eyes clutching a set of railings as if the ship was going to give under him and fall from the sky. Everything shook violently, Leonard heaving along with it. He wished for it to stop. He begged for unconsciousness. A set of skilful fingers were pressed against his neck and his wish was granted with no further delay.
,,,,
"How are you feeling, Len?" asked a gentle voice and Leonard stirred in his blissfully comfortable bed. His vision was blurry when he cracked open an eye but it cleared as Jim's pressed lips and creased brows came into view. "Deja vu, much?"
"You are dead," Leonard deadpanned and Jim's tired face morphed into a grim one. His sorrowful eyes flickered across Leonard's body and the wall behind him until he decided to focus on him one more time. This time with more conviction in his gaze.
"I am right here, Leonard. And, so are you," he whispered. The desperation and agony were evident in his voice, but why? Leonard wanted answers, not more questions...
"What happened?"
"I should ask you the same," was Jim's reply and he actually sounded exhausted. Leonard noticed how his emotions were going haywire through his near-hysteric hand gestures. Not only that but Jim was showing signs of anxiety, too; talking too fast, breathing heavily. Len wanted to seize him by the arm and listen to the beating of his frantic heart, a sign that he was alive and well. He didn't get the chance because Jim was adamant in talking himself to asphyxiation. "You had a few glasses and dozed off. Which was fine, you know. It happens after being tired so long but then, the seizure began. Spock showed up but he wasn't much help either. You were out cold, sweating and had a high temperature. We couldn't wake you up. I feared the worst. Called in Chapel who was able to help. We got you back to your cabin and thankfully your fever broke!"
He slouched and a tired, dead-eyed gaze took the place of the overly vivid one as if he had been up all night. His shirt was wrinkled, half tucked into his trousers. One side of his suspenders was down and the other was barely hanging on. Even his shoes were off. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Jim had spent the whole night in his cabin, nursing Len back to health, fretting over what could happen to him.
"Sorry," Leonard replied. He believed that Jim was telling the truth. He did feel like shit and the pain in his head was definitely evidence of hangover. The captain was pleased with his answer as he picked himself up from the ground where he had kneeled by Leonard's bed. He didn't even realise what he was doing but in a blink of an eye, Leonard reached out for Jim, grabbing his wrist. "What I am seeing, is it real?"
If misery had a face and a name, it would be Jim Kirk. With the kind of expression he was wearing, Leonard was sure that his dream was real but Jim was adamant in proving him wrong.
"That's not a question I can answer. Only you can..."
"Yeah, how about you cut the crap tell me what the hell you know about my past, Captain!"
"I don't! I don't know anything" Jim stuttered.
"Clearly, you don't," Leonard responded sarcastically, "Damn it, man! I am not stupid. I can tell when someone's bullshitting me and that's what you have been doing. That much is obvious even to a five-year-old!"
"Look," Jim began. Stopped halfway through, breathed in deeply and moved to increase the flame of the light lamp. He seemed even less healthy with all the shadows flickering on his pale face, "You are a doctor!"
"No shit, Sherlock!" Leonard growled, crossing his arms.
"Therefore," Jim tried again, acting as if Len hadn't interrupted him, "You should know how that head injuries and their respective trauma on the brain are extremely delicate."
"Is that what I have? Heavy head trauma, from the ship incident?"
"Wouldn't you say so?" Jim gestured at him, hoping that Leonard agreed with him on this matter, "You were on a ship, you had an accident that ended with you in the water, scrambled your brain and you woke up on the shore. It makes sense, doesn't it?"
"Don't give me that crap, Kirk!" McCoy hollered, jumping out of the bed. Jim flinched at his response and Leonard decided to tone down his attitude. There was no point in scaring his only friend. He reached out and cupped Jim's chin, his eyes begging for the truth.
"I... I am not," was the meek response. So unlike the Jim Kirk from his dreams, so unlike the man, he chose to follow. Something flickered behind the blue eyes as if he gave up playing to pretend and he straightened his back, "You've got to get to the answer yourself, Bones. It means nothing if I hand over them."
Leonard let out a tired sigh. He lowered his head as his fatigue caught up with him but instead of lying back down, he leaned slightly forward. There was something very important that was missing in his life. Something that made him feel complete, alive after being emotionally drained after a year of chasing lost memories. Someone that helped him remember his true self and connect with the rest of people on this ship who in returned reminded him what it meant to enjoy life not just waste his life trying to be the person he used to be. After that dream, he was almost sure that link to his forgotten humanity was Jim.
"Come on, man. I can't do this for you!" Jim pleaded with the same level of tiredness. Although it was a simple sentence, it pushed the wrong buttons in Leonard's mind. He didn't want to hear the impatient rumblings from a man Leonard trusted to keep him from falling apart. Jim was supposed to be his anchor to the reality. The one unflappable source of tolerance and support. Yet, there he was... able to grate on Leonard's every single nerve with his childish tone. Perhaps, the nightmare, the haunting image of dead blue eyes and the silent acceptance of his own demise, had affected him more than he liked to accept.
"I hate this, Jim. Everything around me feels wrong, everything but you and even then you turn out to be lying to me. What am I supposed to believe in? Huh? What in this miserable boat that is actually fucking real?"
"I am real! We both are!" Leonard's heart wasn't moved by that. He was too furious to even figure out what had happened to him.
"So you say! But, all you have done since we met is to lie to me, Jim! Oh sorry, it's an aversion from the truth, not a lie; that's what you claimed, right? Well, guess what? If what I am seeing is true then you are not even alive and this whole thing is nothing but my mind's fabrication!" As he spoke out, it became clearer to him that he meant what he was saying. The shadow of a doubt he harboured in his heart was becoming unavoidable as Jim's own face crumbled at his words. They were both breaking apart and Leonard feared that nothing could help them. Nothing other than the harsh truth but Jim refused to give in. There was nothing left but the eerie silence that claimed so many friendships. "How in seven Hell's am I supposed to trust you?"
"Because you mean the world to me!" Jim's earnest outburst was loud but his anger subsided the moment he noticed how McCoy backed away from him, shock and disbelief were written all over his face. "If I lie, Bones, it's because I have no choice. In the whole universe, you have always been the one person to welcome me in as the person that I am. The one who accepted and loved me unconditionally. Do you really think I could lie to you if it meant it would hurt you?"
Leonard wanted to disagree, to claim that what he was saying wrong, that it was a sin but he was a weak man when it came to Jim. Convincing himself with saying that he had a soft spot for him didn't quite cut it anymore, he knew what this was. The heavy throbbing of his heart and uncontrollable shaking of his legs, the undeniable urge to touch and feel his warmth... They all pointed to the same thing. Whatever he was before, a doctor, a ship surgeon, a friend, he was more to this man. He was his.
Of all the laws of this era, he had never imagined breaking the one unspoken controversy concerning two gentlemen. Then again, he never expected to be receiving adoration with such intensity from this young, vibrant man who could have anyone and everyone he had desired. It was widely known how immoral and sinful this was. Loving another man, allowing your masculinity to be undermined just because of love. But was it all so wrong? Hadn't Jim advised him to think for himself and judge the world on his own merits before criticising it over what everyone else assumed to be right? Maybe, they weren't right after all and his feelings weren't sinful. Maybe, everything he felt was meant to happen because it was right in his own heart.
When Jim leaned forward and their foreheads touched, filling Leonard with a hope he didn't know he could have, he let it happen. Allowed the familiar scents to surround him, welcoming him home. His fingers caressed the sideburns and the beard on Jim's chin, somehow softer to the touch than he imagined them to be. He chuckled softly at that but he had no energy to smile more than he had to.
After blissful moments of simply hanging on, Leonard made the first move to step away. It would be an underestimation to say that he was both extremely overwhelmed and in awe at the intensity of emotions emanating from Jim.
"Why?" he asked, unsure of what exactly he was referring to.
"Why not?" Jim replied, equally unclear on what he meant. Leonard took it as a sign that they were not ready to discuss the peculiarities of their past and future relationship. He broke apart reluctantly and retreated back into his cabin, only to have Jim follow him with every step. When the back of his knees hit the sofa, he stopped but Jim didn't. Soon, there was a gentle hand stroking the side of his neck and unfocused eyes locked on his well-trimmed beard.
"It suits you..." came as a surprise to hear but Leonard accepted the compliment readily.
"Not like you've seen me without a beard. How can you even make a worthy comparison?" he quipped back. A smile grew on Jim's face, his tense features relaxing.
"You sure about that?" he asked while his offending tender fingers made their way to Leonard's lips. Another hand sneaked its way downwards, grasped the small of his back and once more he was in Jim's embrace. The feelings those simple emotions rose up in him were achingly familiar. So much so that he wondered how he could ever forget about it. But by some terrible twist of fate, if he had never been lucky enough to have felt those warm hands on him, then it was just too damn unfortunate.
"Why did I forget about you?" Leonard ended up whispering against Jim's thumb. He had decided to open his heart and hope it didn't get trampled on. It was only one of the questions which were swirling in his mind, creating tornados of confusion but it was the most important one that he needed answering. "Why you? I can point out the names of all the bones in your body, every last one of them but I failed to recall your name. I knew what I liked to eat, how badly I hated the sea but not the shade of the blue in your eyes. I keep remembering names and faces but they never belong to you."
"It's nothing personal, I hope but it hurts a bit to be forgotten. Especially right here," Jim gestured to his heart prompting Leonard to splay his palm over the broad chest. The constant beating of his heart was a soothing music and the steady rhythm was the strongest evidence of their mutual affection. "I miss you, Bones" is mumbled right into his ear with a voice slightly choking on the last word. Bones, an odd but fitting name for him, he realised. Sawbones were what the doctors in the military were called. Is that how he got stuck with it? Were they once part of a military organisation? That explained the explosions and the never ending destruction he kept on dreaming about. It made sense in many aspects but also, none at all because it didn't sit right with him.
Jim, with small steps, directed them towards the bed, his breaths ghosting over Leonard's cheeks. Together they slowly sunk down. Jim didn't follow him fully, rather he assisted Leonard to get under the covers while he kneeled beside the bedframe. He had an expression of serenity which was not common with Jim Kirk as he knew him. It was just as much mesmerising and Leonard savoured every moment of it.
"You goin' to leave?" he asked sleepily.
"No, not until you are asleep."
Leonard snuggled closer to the pillow and leaned towards the captain "Don't you have a ship to take care of? I mean, there must be better things for you to do than to babysit little ol' me."
A sympathetic smile tugged the corner of his lips but his voice was stern "My crew is the best in the entire galaxy. They are more than capable of handling a ship without my input for a few hours or days. I know that because they already did that before. Besides I assure you, I am exactly where I am needed the most."
"You are making my heart flutter, kid," Leonard grumbled. Jim let out a snicker and buried his nose into the mattress. He would always prefer to have Jim laugh at his grumpiness than to make him feel unwelcome in his cabin. Instead of saying his thanks and pulling away, Leonard opted to circle his arm around the broad shoulders. Jim responded immediately with grabbing a hold of his shirt loosely. There was a question in the eyes that bore into his soul but neither dared to ask them.
Jim realised that it was all or nothing, he wouldn't leave Bones scattered mind nor his memories behind. Leonard, on the other hand, was both excited and terrified to find out about everything that he was yet to learn again; with the emphasis being on feeling terrified.
When his body finally threatened to shut down, Leonard let his arm go with an exasperated sigh and tugged at Jim's ear to let him onto the mattress properly. The sweetly smiling man drowsily got up, leaving Leonard all alone for two whole minutes when he blew out the oil lamp, removed his suspenders and came back. It was a tight fit on the single bed with two grown men but they made it work; bodies closely fitted together and lazy smiles on both their faces. This time, their closeness brought out a happy little memory in Leonard's mind, reminiscing about old times he couldn't fully recall but was certain that it involved Jim, exclusively; The slow humming of the ship engines, a peaceful room with just the two of them, a strong grip around his belly. The same breath exhaled on his naked shoulder.
A shiver passed down his spine. "Why is this happening to me? To us?" he asked dejectedly. Honestly, at this point, he didn't expect a coherent answer from anyone.
"Because space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence. And we still chose it over everything else." The familiarity of that sentence was like bathing under a warm sun.
"That makes no sense, Jim. But it doesn't sound wrong either," Leonard answered, wrapping his arms around Jim's middle. He buried his face between the pillow and Jim's neck while allowing Jim to cling to his shoulders, dragging them closer.
"Rest, Bones. Things aren't going to get easier from now on," Jim ordered and Leonard snorted at that.
"When did they ever, darlin'?" he blurted out before following on that order and slipping into a dreamless sleep with the ghosts of lips on his forehead.