some old tenderness

     There was never a moment in Eoghan’s life where he lacked the desire to be embraced in warmth, a blanket of affection layered with love upon love, inhaling and exhaling the scent of a partner. He craved, fixated even, on the mirage of a man that would gift him such gratitude, and perhaps allow him to do the same in return. Dean was it. He was the hunk of blood, flesh, and bone wrapped perfectly with a bow, waiting for him right outside the doors of his heart. To see his smile, his teeth immaculate in position, but the charm of his gap apparent. To see the crinkling of his nose and the glossy shine of his dark hair; everything about his humanity sparked a fire in Eoghan’s chest, causing him to relive the times in his life when he lived in the darkest of spaces, on the edge of sanity; the weight of loneliness crashing down upon his frail frame. 

     Eoghan’s vision fogged as he yawned, his exhaustion calming the thumping of his pulse. His nose, crooked on Dean’s shoulder, his hair tickling his lover’s chin; his arms were wrapped languidly around Dean’s neck, and his back hunched as it relaxed onto Dean’s body. Dean stood there, silently, with his eyes closed, as they swayed softly from side to side in the absence of sound and light, soaking in each other’s presence, as if to take in a breath without the other there would turn out to be utterly impossible. 

     In spite of everything graceful, the forceful push against the nape of his neck, like an index finger pressed into him, pushed him toward the man staring back at him. All the apprehension that gnawed at his innards disapparated into flight, leaving his body like a gush of strong wind, as he pressed his lips against the taller figures own, taking comfort in the softness of their connection. It was a stoic kiss, no movement but the fluttering of surprised eyes took place, and soon, like a beautiful soliloquy coming to a satisfying close, their mouths parted ways.