What's this? Is it a quick update? I THINK IT IS. (I didn't want to leave it too long after that ending I left you with last time, that was pretty mean, sorry :/)

Anyway, this chapter literally leaps right in after the last chapter ended (so maybe re-read at least the end of that one if you don't remember exactly how I so cruelly left it hanging), and this chapter is like 90% fluffy/steamy (and slightly angsty, not gonna lie) Siren since we're coming up to that unholy period of separation that was episode 5. So, enjoy the romance while you can!

BTW this chapter contains ALMOST smut (but not quite smut because honestly I am too goddamn asexual to make it work when I try writing porn, okay?), still, much getting naked and hot make-outs so hopefully not a complete disappointment :3 Not enough to make this an M, I don't think.

Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: In The Flesh and all it's characters belong to Dominic Mitchell and BBC3. Song lyrics belong to the lovely Gabrielle Aplin. Direct quotes taken from the show belong to the original writers, I make no profit from this story and write it purely out of love for the series! :3

"There used to be an empty space

A photograph without a face

But with your presence, and your grace

Everything falls into place

Just please don't say you love me

'Cause I might not say it back

Doesn't mean my heart stops skipping when you look at me like that

There's no need to worry when you see just where we're at

Just please don't say you love me

'Cause I might not say it back."

-'Please Don't Say You Love Me', Gabrielle Aplin

Kieren's lips find his before he can finish the sentence. Hot, feverish, more so than a dead boy's should be. Simon's gasp echoes in the silence of the deserted bungalow, and words desert him as arms wind around his waist. His eyes flutter closed, his hands on the younger man's face sliding back to run through his fair hair gently, reverently. Kieren's grip tightens, pulling him closer.

"Kieren," he gasps when he breaks away to catch his breath, his eyelids heavy and his pinprick pupils blown wide with more love and lust than he knows what to do with as he tries to pick up the dangling thread of his incomplete confession. "I-"

His lips are busy once more as Kieren claims them again, his teeth biting down just enough to pull a low growl from Simon's throat. He gives up trying to speak, his arm pressing behind Kieren's shoulders urgently, holding him as close as he can can through the fifty or so layers of clothing the boy had deigned to wear that day. Simon had never been more frustrated at a person's clothing taste than he was at this moment.

Kieren pulls his head away slightly, pressing their foreheads together as he gasps for air out of sheer force of habit. He looks up at Simon through his eyelashes and the older man feels like having a heart attack. His blond hair hangs in ruffled disarray at his forehead, the bottomless pupils of his pearly eyes are vastly dilated, deeper and darker than space itself. His soft lips have been kissed swollen, warmed to an almost human shade of pink and twitching invitingly.

This time, it's Simon who takes the leap.

Kieren deepens the kiss gratefully, sliding one of his hands up to Simon's neck to hold him down to his lips, feeling a moan escape his own mouth only to be immediately swallowed by Simon's yearning lips. The fiery rush of pleasure racing through his body is almost enough to take his mind off the guilt.

Almost.

He was about to tell you he loves you.

The hand gripping Simon's waist bunches the fabric of his shirt in a white-knuckled grip, and he blinks against the dry itch at the corners of his eyes. For once he is glad to be all out of tears to shed.

He loves you.

Of course he did. Why he hadn't seen it earlier, he had no idea.

He wants to be happy. He wants to pull back and ask the dark-haired man to finish the sentence, and then he wants to say it right back.

But he doesn't want to lie. Not to Simon.

You don't love him…

He feels the truth like a sucker punch to the gut. He clings tighter to the tall, solid body in front of him, anchoring himself in pleasure and comfort as the knowledge wracks him with guilt.

Of course you don't love him…

He breaks away from Simon's intoxicating lips and presses his mouth against the dip of his collarbone, hiding his face as the Irish man's lips trail a path down his neck. Each kiss smoulders against his cold skin, even though he knows in his heart that Simon's body is just as cold and lifeless as his own. Despite that his mind conjures the phantom memory of burning kisses, trailing down his throat and making him shiver with anticipation. Perfect, adoring strokes, each placed with slow deliberation on his skin by the confident, caring man he now clings to like a lifeline. His shoulders shake, guilt warring with desire as he squeezes his eyes shut against the disciple's shoulder.

But, Christ, don't you just wish you did…

If only things could be simple. Just this once.

"Kieren?"

Simon's voice is rough with desire, his eyes burn as Kieren meets his gaze. He feels his stomach flop, his cold, stiff muscles tingling as he feels the longing in Simon's eyes. Longing for him. The dark-haired man's eyes roam every inch of his pale face, lingering over every detail like he's admiring a masterpiece. Kieren's lifeless heart leaps.

He finds his lips once more, kissing him roughly, impatiently. He shrugs his top jacket from his shoulders, letting it slip carelessly to the floor as his arms find their way back to Simon's waist. Simon groans into his mouth, his hands picking up where Kieren's left off in shedding him of the excess layers, fumbling in his eagerness. With every layer that slides to the floor Kieren feels the distance between them shrink. Simon pushes against him, and Kieren finds himself being walked backwards across the room, the Irish man pushing the door shut roughly behind them. Before he knows it Kieren feels the bed against the back of his knees, and doesn't resist as Simon pushes him back onto it, following him down without ever once breaking the kiss.

He feels Simon's weight on top of him, supported only by the older man's arms on either side of his head, and almost chokes on the rush of lust that overwhelms him, like wildfire through his veins. His eager hands lift to the collar of Simon's shirt, fiddling clumsily with the top button and working his way down as the dark-haired man attacks his lips, leaving him light-headed.

The final button undone, he starts to push the intrusive layer of fabric down off Simon's body, hands gliding across his shoulder blades.

A surprised grunt escapes Simon's mouth, and his lips pause in their assault as he pulls away. His hand reaches back to seize Kieren's wrist and pull it from his shoulders, the shirt remaining loosely in place over his back.

"No," he rasps, kissing the scar on Kieren's wrist softly, apologetically. He clasps his hand between them, kissing along his arm gently, pressing his lips to the crease of his elbow and the curve of his shoulder remorsefully, eyes closing again. "Don't look there…"

Kieren swallows, his other hand sliding to Simon's waist tentatively. "I won't look," he says quietly, scared but also desperate to know what it is the secretive man wants to keep hidden. His hand drifts under the edge of the shirt, hesitating at Simon's hip. "Can I just…?"

Simon meets his gaze for a long, tense moment, his face conflicted. Is that fear in his eyes? Shame, even?

Finally, he nods. He buries his face in Kieren's neck as the boy's hand slides under the shirt, slowly tracing along his skin to the small of his back. He shudders, deeply inhaling the scent of Kieren's skin and hair as his long fingers brush the base of his scar.

Kieren finds the wound. He chokes as his fingers trace the ragged edges of the skin, counting the staples and stitches by touch. A dry sob escapes his throat, and he feels Simon nuzzle into his throat comfortingly as he reaches the top of the gash by the disciple's neck. He traces all the way back down again, and lifts his torso from the bed to press his lips to Simon's shoulder, collar, throat.

Simon closes his eyes. "Tell you about it, one day," he says quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Right now," he continues, voice lowering as he slides his hands beneath Kieren's hips. "I can think of plenty of ways I'd rather pass the time…"

Kieren shivers, Simon's voice like a caress. He clings to the muscles of Simon's back, carefully avoiding the ragged scar and pulling him down, pressing his body readily against his own and moaning as Simon traces his lips behind his ear and along his jawline. As he tilts his head back and Simon takes full advantage of the easy access to his neck, Kieren allows his eyes to drift closed.

No, you don't love him.

His breath hitches as Simon's arms wind tighter around him, his lips stroking his skin reverently.

…Not yet.

Simon loses track of time. There is no time, not in here, not with Kieren beneath him and his gasping breaths in his ear. His hands wonder, tracing every line of the lean body below him and feeling a thrill of excitement every time he manages to draw a whimper from between the fair-haired man's parted lips.

If I can't tell him I love him, I'll etch it into every inch of his skin.

He slides a hand to the small of Kieren's back, and any remaining string of coherent thought leaves him as the boy moans and bucks his hips. He groans, his mouth moving back up to claim Kieren's once more, their lips moving together as he grips his rocking hips with both hands, swaying in time to his movements and drawing the sweetest whine from Kieren's pink-tinged lips. He's on the verge of losing his mind as the boy's teeth dig softly into his lip. He feels feverish as one of those slender hands pulls out from beneath his shirt and goes to the back of his head, thumb stroking along his cheekbone and fingers burrowed into his hair. Kieren kisses him into such a trance that he barely even notices as he reaches back up to push his open shirt off his shoulders, but he keeps his promise and doesn't attempt to look at the scar on his back. Simon feels like sobbing in gratitude, but instead shows his appreciation with his lips on Kieren's neck, biting and sucking, moving downwards and teasing more whimpers from his throat. He feels fumbling hands fighting with his belt-buckle and grunts against Kieren's chest, temporarily releasing his hips in order to offer assistance.

After a minute of awkward scrabbling and breathless laughter, the last of their clothes fall to the floor. Kieren sits up suddenly, pulling Simon against his body and pressing his lips to his jaw and throat, returning the kisses Simon had been bestowing on him for longer than he could keep track of. Simon closes his eyes and sighs, combing his hands through Kieren's hair softly. His eyes flutter open as something occurs to him.

"Ever done anything like this before?" he asks quietly, his voice still rough.

Kieren shakes his head against his neck, his arms tightening around his waist. "No. Rick and I…" he gulps, his voice turns hoarse. "We never made it this far…"

Simon's heart aches for him. So young and already so unlucky in love. Only a child when he'd met the love of his life. Barely out of school when it had been taken from him. Only eighteen when he'd decided life wasn't worth the effort anymore. Simon understood what it was to feel like breathing in and out was a pointless endeavour with no end-game reward, but that was just how he was programmed, etched into his DNA just as much as his blood type or the colour of his eyes. It was a state of mind he'd grown to live with, at least from one day to the next. But not even the collected archives of his wretched existence saddened him more than visualising a young, happy Kieren Walker- eyes still shining, voice full of hope- and wondering exactly how long it had lasted before life had turned cruel.

Simon had known the world for a sham from the day he could think. Kieren had learned it the hard way.

Except, the world isn't a complete fuck-up, is it? You know that now.

He kisses Kieren's head and neck softly, comfortingly.

How could angels exist in a godless universe?

Kieren pulls his face away from Simon's neck, closing his eyes and pressing their foreheads together. Simon just gazes at him, captivated by the way his lips tremble and his eyelashes twitch.

"Hey," he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Kieren's nose and smiling at the boy's bemused expression. He'd probably been expecting more kissing of the passionate making-out variety, friendly pecks were quite an abrupt change of pace. Nevertheless, Simon just smiles tenderly, winding his arms around the young man's lean waist and tugging him gently onto his lap. "Take it slow, okay?"

Kieren nods, gulping back the dry feeling in his throat. "Yeah," he says quietly, his arms draping over Simon's shoulders. "Yeah, okay. Honestly, I didn't even know we could, um…" he chews his lip and makes a vague gesture between them, and Simon has to bite back a chuckle. "I thought, I don't know, I thought that might be… difficult."

Simon shrugs, pressing a gentle kiss to the fair-haired man's irresistible bottom lip (well, if he insists on nibbling on it like that with Simon literally right below him!). "Well, it is different, we have some biological… hindrances, now, for sure. What with the…" he considers how to phrase it. "…insufficient blood flow, and that."

Kieren eyes widen and he glances down at their laps as something occurs to him. "Fuck. I didn't even think about… well, fuck."

He looks away in embarrassment, and Simon kisses the cheek closest to him with a smile. "Yeah," he mutters, his brow furrowing. "Y'know, I didn't think of that either…" he says, and smirks. "Guess I got carried away- heat of the moment…"

Kieren laughs almost dizzily as the ridiculousness of their situation catches up to his lust-addled brain. "Well," he huffs, and Simon hears the note of disappointment in his voice. "Suppose that kind of throws a spanner in the works, eh?"

Simon grins wickedly, tightening his arms around the boy's slim body. "Well, I don't know about you but I have a mouth and ten working fingers," he purrs suggestively, brushing his lips over Kieren's chest in a very persuasive manner and feeling him shiver. "The possibilities are endless…"

Kieren would have blushed beet red if he still had a pulse (oh, if only). He swats at Simon's arm reproachfully, but makes no effort to pull away. "Simon!"

Simon rests his cheek against Kieren's chest and looks up at him, smiling languidly. "Hey, no worries- slow, remember?"

To his absolute delight, Kieren's frowning mouth twitches into a grin. He swoops down into another kiss, and Simon is only too happy to let him take control this time, matching his slow pace with a new kind of simmering desire- smouldering embers in comparison to the roaring flames they'd experienced, but no less intense. Kieren pushes him back down onto the mattress and lies draped across him, hands clinging to his waist as the kiss deepens. Simon reaches up to cup his face in his hands, feeling like he could just melt into Kieren's embrace.

He doesn't love you.

He'd known that for a long time, but from the moment Kieren had cut off his confession it had become an undeniable truth. Whatever it was Simon felt for him, it was not mutual. But the more he thinks about it, the less it upsets him. Of course Kieren doesn't love him. The very notion was ridiculous. They had barely known each other a week, he was still in mourning over Rick Macy, he was still burdened with the guilt of feeling like a traitor to Amy…

And he's too good for you.

Simon banishes the thought, returning Kieren's kisses with increased fervour, the younger man humming appreciatively above him.

That doesn't matter right now. What matters isn't whether his feelings are returned, now or ever. Right now, the only thing on his mind is Kieren Walker, and the sweet noises he's making as Simon makes him feel something beyond the dead silence of his own heart.

Kieren isn't ready to say the words, or to hear them for that matter, but right now Simon doesn't care. It was a mistake to try to bring it up the first time, he should have known that he wasn't ready yet, but he won't make that error again. He won't rush judgement or tempt fate.

If he has even a chance in Hell of being loved back one day, he'll wait as long as it takes.

It wasn't like he was going anywhere any time soon.

Once he'd finally managed to catch his breath, Kieren felt like he could happily drift into a deep sleep and stay that way all winter. He snuggled his head into the pillow, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he felt Simon's arm drape across him from behind, cold skin heated to a cosy room temperature by their various… activities. He blinked his heavy eyelids and focused drowsily on Simon's hand, lying on the mattress right in front of him. And my, my, what a hand. Kieren almost blushed again just thinking about it.

"I can smell your hair a-burnin'," Simon mumbled, and Kieren couldn't help jumping slightly. He felt Simon smile against his neck, and saw his fingers twitch invitingly. "S'not gonna hold itself, y'know," he said teasingly, laying his hand palm-open on the covers.

Kieren raised his eyebrow and stared at the proffered hand cautiously. "Actually I feel like just looking at it's going to get me pregnant."

Simon chuckled wryly. "But you're dead. And a man."

"You underestimate its power," Kieren said, but smiled and twined his fingers with the disciple's. He felt the Irish man snuggle closer to his back and fiddled pensively with their interlocked digits, his mind wondering back to its original thought patterns from before he'd found himself so gloriously distracted. He chewed his lip uncertainly as the dizzying hormones cleared and he could think straight again.

Well. Where do we go from here?

He found himself making a mental checklist of the things he knew, and his spirit sank further with each bullet point.

Simon is in love with you.

You are not in love with Simon.

Amy probably is in love with him.

But even if you don't feel that way about him right now he makes you feel good and you're not about to break it off.

This will probably result in Simon and/or Amy getting hurt.

You're screwed.

Also he accidentally made a sex joke in front of your parents.

Kieren groaned softly as memories of that disastrous lunch came flooding back. Perhaps if it had just been two hours of awkward silence and unintentional innuendos he'd have been able to forget about it, but that wasn't all it was anymore.

Simon squeezed his hand, nuzzling the back of his neck. "What's wrong?" he murmured in response to Kieren's troubled groan.

The fair-haired man shut his eyes against the rising panic. "My parents…"

He didn't elaborate, but Simon understood. He kissed his shoulder and tightened his arm around his torso, holding him close. "It'll be fine. Anyway, that's tomorrow's problem."

"Well, today's," Kieren muttered, glancing at the clock that read 1:06 a.m. and narrowing his eyes. How long had they been there? They really had lost track of time. Christ, if he still had working blood vessels his face would be verging on crimson.

Simon sniggered and it brought a smile to Kieren's face. He never heard Simon laugh in front of anyone else, it was like a little part of himself that he brought out especially for him. It felt selfish to enjoy that, but the thought warmed his decrepit heart more than he cared to admit.

"It'll be okay," Simon comforted, glancing out the window. "Just said what's on your mind is all. They'll get used to it."

Kieren grimaced, gripping Simon's hand tighter. "Not so sure about that."

"Well, they're gonna have to," Simon said firmly, leaning up on his elbow so he could look at Kieren's face. Kieren tried not to be distracted by his dishevelled hair (which he had probably had a decent hand in ruffling), but when he looked down on him like that with the same intensity that had got them into this position in the first place it was hard not be side-tracked. He smiled down at him, keeping his elbow planted and moving his hand to the back of Kieren's neck. "You shouldn't have to hide who you are," he murmured, tracing small circles on Kieren's skin with his thumb and smiling seductively. "Especially not when what you are happens to be fucking gorgeous."

Kieren rolled onto his back, keeping Simon's hand clasped to his chest and smirking back at him. "'Fucking gorgeous', eh?"

Simon raised his eyebrow. "You sound surprised."

Kieren couldn't find an answer to that, not right now. That was a whole other thing to agonise over, and he had quite enough on his mind already without throwing questions of self-image into the mix. He glanced at the clock again and made to sit up, releasing Simon's hand.

"I should go," he said, scanning the room to find his clothes- he hadn't been paying much attention when they'd first been peeled off. "I don't know if Amy's back yet or not but we'll have a hard time explaining this to her if-"

Simon gripped his shoulder, halting him. His eyes flickered to the clock and then back to Kieren, but he looked down at his chest instead of his face. Kieren could tell he was trying to hide the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, and suddenly he felt guilty all over again.

"Stay? For a while," Simon said softly, more question than command.

Kieren hesitated. It would be best to leave- then he could be out of the bungalow without Amy noticing he'd been there, he could be home in time to catch a few hours of sleep before breakfast with the family, maybe if he resumed the normal morning routine they wouldn't bring up the lunch and he could get away without confrontation.

Then again, that would mean sleeping in his cold, narrow, lonely bed, as opposed to sleeping cosily beside Simon in the double they'd spent the last few hours thoroughly warming up. There really wasn't much contest. Besides, he felt like he owed it to Simon to at least stay a few hours. He didn't want to give him the impression that he was using him for his own ends- what had Simon bitterly called it after that first kiss, 'stress relief'?- only to get up and leave as soon as they were done. God knows he knew how it felt to be brushed off. All those nights when he and Rick would get drunk and mess around, feeling like they were the only two people in the world, only for Rick to sneak home guiltily with a cover story for his dad's benefit. He understood why he did it, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

So he lifted his hand to Simon's chin, lifting his face so he'd look into his eyes, and smiled. "Okay."

Simon's eyebrows practically shot up into his hairline. "Really?"

Kieren rolled his eyes, slumping back to the bed and gathering the pillow up to his chest, closing his eyes. "Yes, really. But I'm tired and I have to get up early, so clean thoughts and hands off!"

He could tell from the sound of his voice that Simon was grinning. "Yes, sir," he said, flopping back down beside Kieren and looking into his eyes, raising his arm and letting it hover. "Now, when you say, 'hands off'…?"

Kieren bit back a grin. "Cuddling's fine."

"Couldn't agree more," Simon mumbled, once again wrapping his arm around Kieren's torso and pulling him as close as the pillow clutched in the boy's arms would allow. He pressed his lips against Kieren's hair and smiled, inhaling the scent from his strawberry blond tufts. Kieren nuzzled into him, resting his cheek on the pillow and his forehead against the dark-haired man's chest, sighing contentedly.

Don't lie, Walker- you could get used to this.

A sleepy smile spread across his face as Simon's hand rubbed his back, and he drifted into slumber with the sound of Simon's breathing in his ears and one last sluggish thought in his head.

Maybe one day you will…

It took mere moments for Kieren's breathing to level out, another minute and he was practically comatose. Simon smiled into his hair, breathing in the scent deeply. They didn't sweat anymore or really have a natural odour of any kind (besides a lingering earthy aroma from their time in the ground, of course), but nevertheless there was something so Kieren about the other scents that clung to his hair and clothes- traces of oil paints and acrylics, the subtle musk of ink and paper that accompanied new stationary, he must be getting through a sketchbook a week. Simon knew he wouldn't sleep- not when he didn't know when he would get a chance to be this close to Kieren again- so he just enjoyed the scent of his hair and the feeling of his breath against his chest, looking over his head as he watched the sky darken ever further outside.

It's always darkest before the dawn.

He glanced at the clock, only just realising what time it was. It was past two in the morning, and he'd been lying beside the slumbering boy for at least an hour. The dark night sky would start to lighten soon, possibly in the next few hours. The impenetrable blackness had started to shimmer as the first flakes of snow drifted to the ground, barely strong enough to settle.

There was something Simon had to do.

He slowly rose from the bed, making every effort not to shift or jolt the peacefully sleeping man. When he'd reluctantly pried himself from his side, he fished around on the floor for his clothes, finding them scattered amongst Kieren's many shed layers. The search was fairly simple as they'd both been so caught up in each other that neither of them had bothered to switch off the overhead light all evening. Amy wouldn't appreciate the energy bill this month- Simon swore to himself that he'd pay her back when he could.

Once he was fully clothed he turned back to the bed, and realised that Kieren hadn't so much as stirred. He really must have tired him out. He tiptoed over and pulled the rumpled blankets up to cover the fair-haired man's naked form, for some extra security in case he woke up alone- although Simon hoped with all his heart that he'd be back before then. He didn't want him to think he'd been abandoned.

And you'd rather not try to explain where you went.

He crouched by the bed, watching Kieren's sleeping face intently, those words he'd banished from his mind for the night returning.

The First.

He gazed in wonderment at his serene features, and felt his lips curve up into an adoring smile.

Beautiful.

He stood up, reluctantly tearing his gaze away. He crept towards the door, tugging it open softly and looking back over his shoulder as he flipped the light switch. He wished he could just curl right back up in bed when he saw Kieren's face bathed in silver moonlight. But he turned his back and closed the door, silently promising to be back soon. This wouldn't take long.

He exited into the chilled night air, and spent a second lamenting the fact that his breath was no longer warm enough to mist in front of him. He always used to love that. He buried his hands in his pockets, setting out into the bleak streets with a purposeful stride, brought on both by his dedication to his duty and his desire to crawl back into the sleeping Kieren's embrace. He really had no time to waste on either matter.

Several empty streets away, he found an old phone booth. He strode towards it, pulling open the door and ducking into the temporary shelter as he fished in his pockets for change. He could have used the phone at the bungalow, but he didn't want the number to be recognised or the call to be intercepted. Besides, he and Amy didn't get too many calls- most likely she hadn't even bothered to pay the phone bill since they'd returned to Roarton. Chances were he would have picked up the receiver and been greeted by nothing but empty static.

He dropped the change into the slot and dialled the number he knew by heart, picking up the handset and holding it to his ear as the first rings echoed in the snow-clad silence. He tapped his fingers beside the keypad, a mixture of impatience and apprehension. He knew what he was going to say- a simple 'I've found the First Risen' would suffice. But he didn't know what the reply would be. Would he get his next instructions right then and there or would they leave him hanging until they could arrange a meeting? And what would his next orders be?

Go to the place where the First rose, and seek them out.

Great, he'd done that. But what now? What would be his orders regarding the First Risen (who was currently curled up in his bed, sleeping soundly with no idea of what he was up to. Fuck.), and what would he need to do to carry them out?

The way the Undead Prophet talked about the First Risen, he sounded like some kind of Messiah- a beautiful, inhuman being, who was destined to lead the Redeemed to liberation. Simon quite liked that idea. Kieren Walker, striding out tall and proud, his natural face shining in the light as he led his kind to their salvation, and God, would he look beautiful, light and power rolling from his presence. That was the kind of revolution Simon would die again to be a part of, a powerful new purpose for his second life, a duty to his faith and to his love.

As the phone continued to ring in his ear, he closed his eyes and prayed to his newfound deity that the two causes could coexist.

Finally, someone picked up. There was no voice on the other end, but Simon knew who was there. He took a deep breath, and spoke.

"I've found the First Risen," he said.

But he couldn't bring himself to stop there.

He turned his head, looking back in the direction of the bungalow and the bed, and the peacefully sleeping form bathed in moonlight. The barest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You should see him," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"He's beautiful."

"And fools rush in

And I've been the fool before

This time I'm gonna slow down

'Cause I think this could be more

The thing I'm looking for"

Well, I hope you enjoyed that, because we're probably not gonna get them together like that for quite some time- sadly I am sticking pretty close to the canon (aside from one quite MAJOR change- which you can all probably guess, tbh- that will take place later).

I'm sorry if I don't update this for a while, but as well as a prompt fill that I've left unfinished for ages I'm also working on a collab fic with some people (which is gonna be stupid, hilarious AND smutty, thank you very much!), so I've got a lot on my plate! Will update when I can though :)

Until next time! :D