Archive of Our Own

Sky sits on the edge of the bed next to Prapai. He reaches out the back of his hand to his forehead. He’s hot again. It means the medicine is wearing off and the fever is returning. He glances at the clock; Prapai is about due for his next dose. He’ll wake him when it’s time.

“It’s bad isn’t it?” Sky asks softly, with no expectation of his boyfriend answering. Prapai is asleep and Sky has no intention of waking him needlessly. Prapai needs sleep.

As if in answer, Prapai’s eyebrows tremble and he lets out a soft whimper and turns on his side toward Sky. Just as Sky draws away, his wrist is suddenly in Prapai’s gentle grip.“...Don’t go…”

“I need to get your Tylenol,” Sky says, tugging his hand away gently, but Prapai doesn’t let go. “Your fever is coming back.”

Prapai’s eyes finally open and it’s clear to Sky that he’s fever-drowsy; Prapai’s usually bright and lively eyes are half-lidded and heavy. Sky’s heart gives a gentle pang; he hates seeing Prapai unwell.

Prapai is looking up at him. His eyes are still dark and beautiful, even like this.

Sky sighs.

The poor baby–he’s such a big baby when he’s sick. He wants to be hard on him, but it’s so hard to keep his resolve when Prapai looks so pitiful.

“Okay,” Sky acquiesces, but any agreement of his never comes without conditions. He finagles his hand out of Prapai’s grip, “I’ll come back and pet your head for a bit, but you need to take your medicine.”

“Yeah?” Prapai is smiling, that curling, pleased smile that makes it seem like he’s made out of warm sunshine.

There! Sky’s heart lifts a little; some of that golden warmth is still in Prapai.

Prapai’s arms, however, encircle Sky’s waist and Prapai’s face presses into his side in a nuzzle.

“But for that to happen,” Sky says, taking Prapai’s hands to forcibly disentangle himself, “You need to let me get up.”

Prapai whimpers again, but Sky slips out of his grasp to stand up. He frowns down at his big-baby-of-a-boyfriend and smoothes his own clothes out. “I’ll be right back.”

Sky pauses a half step away and sends him a side-eyed glance, “and no more whining.”

Prapai whines softly in response.

Baby.

Even as the door clicks shut behind him, the hard edges of his heart are softening. This time he thinks about it affectionately: such a baby.

He finds the pill bottle and prepares a fresh glass of water. Once back in the bedroom with Prapai, he sets the glass down and shakes out two pills into the cap for him.

He sits down on the bed again and places his hand over Prapai’s hip. “..P’Pai?”

Prapai’s eyes are closed; he’s fallen asleep.

Sky sighs.

He should just get up and go about his own business. He should let Prapai sleep. It’s only a matter of time before he get sick and can’t take care of his own obligations. He needs to get as much done as he can before he also falls ill.

Yet, he finds himself unable to leave Prapai’s side.

It always starts out like this: he tries to be practical and keep his distance to not get sick, while still doing his best to take care of Prapai. Then something happens–like Prapai looking so pathetic and defenseless–and he can’t help but give in.

Cute.

He brushes his hand into the disheveled dark locks of Prapai’s hairline.

What he really means is he looks cute and defenseless.

The dim orange glow of the night light is illuminating Prapai’s face in a way that makes him seem so gentle and soft. He is gentle and soft.

… soft and strong…

Sky trails his fingertips over temple and cheek and along the curve of Prapai’s jaw. He’s handsome–absurdly so. Prapai is too cheeky and brazen to be properly winsome, but he’s close. Sky likes the underlying boyish charisma; Prapai is bright and spirited. Sky was charmed despite his best efforts to keep Prapai (and his own feelings) at bay.

Like a prince out of a fairy tale.

It’s distressing how far he’s fallen. He doesn’t always like to admit it to himself, but he knows there’s no coming back from this: his heart is all Prapai’s.

Sky breathes out another sigh just as Prapai murmurs, “...love you…”

Sky cards his fingers through Prapai’s hair and says softly, “I love you too…”

At these words, there is the smallest curl at the edges of Prapai’s lips: a smile. The furrow of Prapai’s eyebrows smoothes out. Prapai’s eyelashes flutter, but don’t open. His breath goes deep and slow.

Sky’s heart goes completely soft. He pauses in his petting, but leaves his fingers in his hair.

How in the hell did he capture this person’s attention? And then keep it? Sometimes he still doesn’t understand exactly what Prapai sees in him. And yet, when those brown eyes are locked onto Sky’s, he sees the result: thorough and unabashed affection.

He can watch over Prapai all afternoon, but what good will it do?

He really should get some things done…

…he shifts away…

… but Prapai’s arms come around his waist again and he’s held there.

Prapai’s voice is against his abdomen. “Please don’t go..”

“Ssh, baby…” Sky pets his hair. “You have to let me get up.”

The face against Sky’s middle rubs back and forth in an obvious disagreement.

“I’m not going anywhere far,” he promises. This hadn’t been his initial intention, but it is now. “I just need to get my laptop.”

The arms around him tighten slightly and Prapai’s fingertips find their way beneath the hem of his shirt to gently rub against the skin of low back. The positioning is uncomfortable, with Sky partially leaned up against the headboard and his hips angled toward Prapai.

He sighs again. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll stay for a little bit. You can put your head in my lap.” He taps his shoulder lightly and adds, “Though you have to let me go sometime. I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

“Nuh-uh. I’ll never let you go..”

There’s another hint of his usual Prapai. Even when he’s horribly sick, Prapai is so Prapai. Sky can’t help but smile, just a little. It’s a good sign, he thinks, if Prapai’s still this adamantly over-romantic. And, despite his weakened state, the arms around him are still strong.

Prapai’s hold loosens only with Sky’s promise and Sky aligns himself properly with his back against the headboard and Prapai’s head nestled in his lap. Prapai’s arm is still looped around his lower back, and the other completes the circle by being thrown around Sky’s hip.

Sky settles his hand back into Prapai’s dark hair and resumes petting him. It’s damp with fever-sweat. He’ll have to help him shower later.

Sky doesn’t try to keep him awake and Prapai doesn’t try to talk to him; he seems content to simply have Sky there. He watches Prapai’s face and notes the occasional flutter of his dark lashes or momentary furrow of brow.

His poor baby.

He thinks of Prapai’s little smile just moments ago–when Sky returned his ‘love you.’ It was a smile from the heart, warm and pure.

Prapai loves him.

Sky sees it.

Sky doesn’t know when it started happening, but it’s happening: the cold stone that has been his heart… is warming beneath that constant and gentle sunlight-attention that is Prapai’s love.

Today and every day since they got together, Prapai has told Sky that heloves him.

Thankfully Prapai understands and does not fault him for it, but for the longest time it’s felt like a one-way mirror of love: Sky can see the love, and logically he knows Prapai means it, but his heart refuses to feel the truth of it.

The heart has its own rules; and, the rules of Sky’s heart have been broken for a long time.

Sky remembers sweet and earnest dark eyes looking up at him, and a gentle voice. He remembers the warm hand on his heart.

Then I’ll tell you. I’ll keep telling you every day. Until you believe me.

It’s a promise Prapai made long ago, and keeps making.

Sky resumes petting his hair.

Somewhere along the way… he realizes at this moment, he’s started believing it.

His heart gives a jolt of disquiet.

Prapai loves him.

Prapai

Loves

Him.

Sky’s throat suddenly feels tight and he’s glad Prapai is resting because he doesn’t know if he can speak or even articulate what he is feeling.

It’s a startling realization; and, it means he may actually achieve what he wants, which is a true and intense love. A love that he feels through his entire being.

If this is true, which he’s realizing it is, it means that his heart will no longer be held within the safe (albeit lonely) secret garden he’d locked it in so long ago.

Every threat to his heart had been swiftly and unapologetically pruned straight out of his life. His feelings and interactions had been carefully manicured. He had been doing just fine this way, but then Prapai crashed into his life with the gentleness of a bulldozer.

No matter how much he tried to clip Prapai out of his life, how he tried to scorch and salt the earth where love might take root, Prapai kept coming back.

Like a particularly aggressive and invasive weed.

Sky can’t help but smile softly at that thought.

A weed.

Though really, Prapai is not a weed at all. He’s something beautiful. Something rare.

His whole heart is overgrown with it, with Prapai.

He rests his hand at the nape of Prapai’s neck.

“My beautiful and persistent weed…” he murmurs affectionately.

He realizes Prapai is awake and watching him, brown eyes almost gold in the dim light of the lamplight. It startles him a little.

Prapai’s throat works until he’s able to speak, “Please don’t stop… feels nice…” Prapai has trouble swallowing but then says, “...did you just call me… a weed?”

“Sssh, baby. Rest.” Sky relaxes a little and resumes petting his head. He skims his fingers through the thick hair and gently scratching fingernails against his scalp. It lulls Prapai back into closing his eyes.

Sky is just about to remind him of the medications when Prapai asks first, “What are you thinking about?”

Prapai’s eyes are open again and watching Sky.

How you’ve completely taken over my heart. How I love you.

Sky condenses it down, however, and simply says, “You.”

Prapai’s mouth quirks up into a little, pleased smile. “Me?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Sky says, but doesn’t elaborate. Prapai just looks so happy. All Sky has to do is look at Prapai and he sees it; he sees the love and affection there. For him.

Every day.

Sky bends down and kisses his forehead. It’s a little sticky with sweat. “I need to wipe you again. Here, sit up. Take these.”

He presses the two tablets into Prapai’s hand as Prapai struggles up with two pillows behind his back to bolster him at the plush headboard. He tosses them back and accepts the glass of water from Sky and knocks back a swallow too.

Prapai is still watching him with those big brown eyes. Sky doesn’t want to look, because he knows once he does, he’ll be caught in them and Prapai will get whatever he wants out of him.

“What about me were you thinking?” Prapai prompts. He’s fishing for compliments—such a narcissist.

Sky crosses his arms and frowns at him. “Now is not the time for talking. You need to be resting.”

“I will! I will! But tell me first?” He’s batting his eyelashes and Sky refuses to look, though he can see it happening out of his periphery. “What were you thinking?”

“How incredibly….” Sky says, as Prapai’s eyes go big, “...irritating and incorrigible you are. Go to bed.”

“Bah!” Prapai scowls, but it’s kind of adorable. He pulls his arms away and folds them in a pout to sink down into his bedding. His feelings are hurt, so Sky knows he needs to fix it.

Sky puts a hand on his cheek. He lets himself be taken in by those big, warm eyes, though now they look wounded. “P’Pai…” he says. “Don’t pout. I just want you to rest and get better for me soon.”

Prapai is looking at him, still in a big-boy pout. Sky knows it’s not enough. He’ll have to baby him a little. “Let me get the washcloth ready. I’ll come to wipe you.”

“Okay...” Prapai says, still fussy.

God, he really is such a baby when he’s sick.

He can’t help but feel a little curl of joy as he turns away. Prapai is just so.. helpless when he’s sick. He shouldn’t find it this adorable, but he does.

Sky leaves to do as he has said: he returns with a small basin of cool water and a few washcloths. He sets them on the nightstand. He fastidiously folds a cloth over into a neat rectangle, dips it, wrings it out, then places it on Prapai’s forehead.

Prapai had done this for Sky early on. Sky remembers it. He will always remember it.

Prapai watches him all the while and when the cool cloth is set on his forehead he closes his eyes and murmurs, “Mm…”

“Feel better?”

Prapai gives a slight nod, but still doesn’t seem completely mollified. He’s temporarily placated at best.

“Your Tylenol should kick in soon.”

“Mmm…” Prapai murmurs sleepily. Sky proceeds to wipe his body with meticulous care. He loves this man with the entirety of heart.

He gently wipes over his face. He loves his dark eyebrows and big brown eyes. He loves his cheeky smiles.

Sky wipes strong shoulders and arms. These arms are the arms that hold him so tightly. These are the arms that tell him he’s loved. These are the hands that he chooses to hold.

Sky peels the blankets down to expose him down to the waist. God, he loves his chest. He presses his lips together as he wipes over the muscled curves of his chest and light brown nipples, then down over toned abdomen. He tries not to have lewd thoughts, but god, it’s hard not to. Prapai’s body is a damn treat and he knows it.

He had intended to wipe his entire body, but there’s no way he’s going any lower and not going to wind up with a massive erection. He flips the blanket back over to cover Prapai. He tucks it up under his chin as if covering his body will stop Sky from having any thoughts (impossible, but he can pretend)…. then sees a little frown on Prapai’s gorgeous face.

“You’re not going to do my whole body?”

“Absolutely not.”

…. Because once he catches sight of those thick thighs and his—he banishes that thought out of his head! Not going to go there!

Prapai just looks so disappointed. He can’t stand those sad eyes, which are currently willing him to do exactly what he knows they both shouldn’t do with Prapai in this state. He has to be strong.

It’s too late, however, because Sky has made the mistake of being caught in his gaze with direct eye contact; Prapai has gone full puppy dog pout: his mouth is curled down in the plushest of adorable frowns; his eyes are big, brown, and sad. To refuse Prapai makes Sky feel like he’s practically Cruella de Vil.

Sky lets out a sigh of consternation. He presses his fingers to Prapai’s little frown. “Shush. You need to rest.”

Sky is just about to withdraw from the bed when Prapai’s mouth is suddenly enclosed over Sky’s ring and middle finger, which had been pressed to his lips. Prapai’s teeth gently catch his fingers at the middle curve of his knuckles. Sky tries to pull his fingers free, but they are caught by the crook in Prapai’s teeth.

“P’Pai…” he says, and gives another gentle tug, but now Prapai’s tongue is gently curling over his fingers. “You’re ill.”

“Mmm…?” Prapai says around his fingers, and it’s clear that what he means is.. ’so’?

Sky rolls eyes, “See? This is exactly what I meant: Incorrigible.”

He hates that it’s working on him; there is the smallest warm and tingling stirring of interest.

Prapai finally releases his fingers and Sky wipes them on his shirt, frowning. “We’re not having sex when you’re sick.”

“Why not?”

“Because you. need. to. rest.”

“....Mm.. but what if Iam resting?”

“Oh, so you want me to do all the work, is what you’re telling me?”

Prapai doesn’t answer because it’s exactly what he’s suggesting. Instead he’s just making big brown eyes at Sky. Sky hates that this is also working.

Prapai finally says, “How am I supposed to ever sleep? I’m too weak to handle myself.. I’ll never get any rest if you leave me like this. And then what?”

“Oh my god,” Sky sighs for what feels like the millionth time that afternoon. “Can you even consent when you’re in this state?”

Prapai nods emphatically, “I consent to everything and anything Sky wants to do to me.”

Sky gives him a dubious look, but finally gives in. How can he not? “Ugh. Fine.”

Prapai has gone from intense puppy-dog eyes to bright delight. He’s so easy to please.

“I’ll give you a hand job. But you have to abide by some rules while I’m jerking you off.”

Prapai is nodding softly, in the pleased and eager way he always does when he’s just happy Sky is throwing him a bone. He will do anything. He shifts deeper into the bed, getting comfy now that he’s getting his way.

Sky lets him wait while he thinks. “No moving. You need to rest.”

Prapai nods.

“No trying to kiss me.”

Prapai frowns, but nods.

“Don’t… Just don’t breath in my direction. You have germs.”

Prapai nods again, eyebrows shooting up in a way that only emphasizes the excitement and jubilance in his eyes.

“You need to go to sleep after this. Understood?”

Prapai nods again, the picture-perfect image of obedience. Sky knows it’s all a show.

He shifts toward the nightstand and withdraws the lube. He sets it on the table then finds the edge of the comforter. He draws it off of Prapai until his entire body is exposed. The dim orange of the nightlight and the sheen of perspiration makes Prapai shine almost golden.

This was what he was worried about; his own cock continues to perk up with interest. Sky looks and takes in his powerful thighs and the long, thick bulge of erection beneath gray boxer-briefs. He knows where he wants that.

He senses Prapai’s warm eyes watching him as he hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs down his boxer-briefs to reveal the rather large and thick cock.

Fuck, it’s beautiful. It’s thick and blunt and–as far as cocks go–the most proud and majestic cock he’s seen. It’s already hard and ruddy from arousal.

He refuses to let his own wonder show on his face; he keeps it impassive. It would just go to Prapai’s head if he knew how much Sky adored his cock. He’d never hear the end of it.

Brown eyes follow him as Sky takes the time to squirt lubricant into both hands and warm it up. He refuses to look; those eyes will be his undoing.

He settles onto the bed, straddling one of his huge thighs. He could probably just rut up against one of Prapai’s thighs and come a million times. Ugh. Now he’s getting ideas. He just needs to make this handjob quick, get Prapai back to sleep, and finish up his own to-do list for the day.

“And close your eyes,” Sky orders. He doesn’t like direct attention. Prapai makes a small fussing noise of disappointment, but doesn’t contest it. His eyes flutter shut, which is nice, because now Sky can look at him.

He loves his dark lashes. He loves the depth of color of his lips. Everything about Prapai is thick and plush and deeply rich. He takes Prapai’s cock in both hands, and smoothes them down to the base. He proceeds to coat Prapai with lubricant and winds up having to get a bit more; it’s never enough.

“Cold..” Prapai fusses.

“Hush,” he says, working both hands up and down the length of him. “It will get warm soon. Relax.”

It’s a fucking job to get Prapai off–a job that he likes–but don’t tell Prapai that. It’s great when he wants Prapai to fuck him, long and hard. However, it’s not so great when he’s trying to get the guy off quick and not get sick.

Prapai groans softly into the pillows where his head is turned to the side into them. “Sky… Sky…” he’s moaning. “Feels so good..”

He’s not sure if it’s Prapai’s lewd moaning and whining, if it’s the salaciously slick cock squelching in his hands, how beautifully golden and flushed Prapai looks, or just his own lack of sex recently with Prapai being sick… but now Sky is horny.

Dammit! He knew this would happen!

And now what’s he supposed to do about it?

“Don’t stop.. Please.. Don’t stop…” Prapai says and Sky realizes he has, in fact, slowed to a stop.

“Hold still,” Sky says and fumbles out of the bed. He shoves out of his pajama bottoms and underwear.

Fuck it.

He squirts lubricant into his hand and presses it up inside himself perfunctorily. He manages to stretch himself preliminarily, but he knows it’s really not enough for the smoothest of transitions, but it will do.

If Prapai’s going to get off, then so is he.

He gets back onto the bed and climbs over his boyfriend, positions himself over his dick, and takes it.

Prapai’s eyes fly open as Sky presses down onto his cock. Prapai bottoms out within him and Sky’s eyes are scrunched tight by the time Prapai reaches the apex. They have sex frequently enough that stretching isn’t a huge issue; and plus, he likes to feel it.

“Unh…!” Sky lets out. It’s uncomfortable and it hurts, but in a good way; it’s the way that tells him he is alive and Prapai is here and Prapai’s dick belongs in him.

“..Sky!” Prapai practically yelps, pushing up onto his elbows, eyes flying open. “..F-fuck!”

Prapai immediately breaks the rules and his strong hands come to hold Sky at his hip bones. Right at this moment Sky doesn’t care. It feels good. So good. Sky is already rocking against him with urgent need. He knows Prapai is already worked up and he’s going to get himself there too–and quickly.

His body acclimates to Prapai filling him and he’s able to ride him more ably. Prapai’s hands also help lift him and shove him back down onto Prapai’s thrusting cock. He likes it rough. He loves it rough. He loves that Prapai can give it to him. He likes how Prapai’s hips lift and send his cock deep into Sky just as Sky is driving down deep.

He likes how it feels. He likes how it pushes every other thought he has until all that’s left is just Prapai–Prapai driving into him the fact that he is Sky’s; that he wants Sky; that he loves Sky.

I love you too, he thinks. I love you too.

He’s not there yet, but still his consciousness comes down from where he’s been deep within his thoughts, eyes scrunched tight. He opens his eyes and looks at Prapai, whose eyes are open and are intense on him.

Sky says, as Prapai bucks up into him, “You’re–nn–aahh!--breaking..nn..the.. rules!”

“Mm’not,” Prapai says, panting through a cheeky smile that makes Sky’s heart do things. “Those rules,” he thrusts up into him, “were for–Nnnn–” he grimaces in pleasure, “for when you..aah… were jerking me off.”

Sky smacks one taut pectoral; technically Prapai is right.

Whatever.

“Agh!” Sky cries as Prapai hits a particularly nice spot inside, “Fine. But you still can’t kiss me.”

“Okay.”

Sky rides him hard and it feels good. He likes when his body feels used like this. He likes at the end of it when he’s tired and aching and snuggled up against Prapai, who is all warmth and soft kisses.

However, they’re not there yet.

He still needs to get Prapai off–and himself. And Prapai… Prapai…!

He’s incorrigible!

He rocks himself down.

Impossible!

He can feel Prapai getting close and starting to lose it. “S–ky..!” He likes the way Prapai draws out his name.

He’s irritating and… and.. and… everything Sky loves.

He’s kind. He’s caring. He has the biggest heart of anyone he knows. He’s determined. He’s funny. He’s sexy.

He’s everything Sky wants.

And he’s here.

Every day.

He’s been there every day. He’s been here with Sky on his good days, his bad days, his happy days, his sad days…

Prapai has been here with him every day saying the words he needs to hear.

He looks down at his boyfriend and his heart feels so overgrown with feelings.

Prapai’s head has dropped back–is pushing back into the pillows. His mouth is open, his eyes scrunched tight. He’s going to come. Sky can see it.

So close!

“Unh!” Prapai arches, his whole body going taut. Sky takes in every moment of it: he’s so beautiful like this in the throes of ecstasy; his muscles are drawn taut, his pretty eyelashes are so dark, his chest is heaving handsomely from exertion.

He comes and comes and comes into Sky. Sky rides each wave of it, letting Prapai buck his way up into him with orgasm.

I love you.

He takes hold of his own cock as Prapai’s hips finally lower and stay lowered. He’s panting softly and his dark eyelashes flutter, then open. Their gazes immediately meet. He sees all of the same feelings he has for Prapai, reflected straight back at him. There’s love and trust and care and kindness.

Sky comes before he realizes it’s even happening. He strokes himself through it, shutting his eyes tight as he works his way through the waves of orgasm. “Nnn..” He feels like he’s coming for forever and ever. It’s so good!

When he finally opens his eyes, his ass is aching and Prapai is still filling him, though he has softened. The first thing he sees is Prapai’s eyes dancing with amusement. Sky asks, “What?”

Prapai raises a dark eyebrow at Sky then pointedly looks down at his chest and abdomen. Sky follows his gaze.

Oh my god.

There’s come all over Prapai’s abdomen and up his chest. It’s obscene.

“You’ve made quite the mess,” Prapai laughs softly. “You’re going to have to wipe me all over again.”

Sky smacks his hip lightly. “Oh shush! I was going to have to clean you anyway.” Sky is scowling, but he’s not really irritated; he’s more embarrassed than anything. It’s a lot of come.

“I’m not the only one who has missed sex since I’ve been sick, hm..?”

Sky sighs sharply and disentangles himself from Prapai carefully. Prapai’s cock comes free and Sky misses it already. There will be more time for that later; when Prapai is healthy. He’s not going to let this happen again!

Sky pointedly doesn’t answer and doesn’t look at his boyfriend’s smug–irritating!--face while he gives himself a cursory cleaning. He reclothes himself in the underwear and pajamas he’d left lying at the bedside. He sits down on the bed side and cleans Prapai off.

“... … only because you’re sick,” Sky says, before Prapai can accuse him of being a softy or something equally ridiculous. Prapai makes eyes at him, but doesn’t push it.

Once Sky is done cleaning them both up, he flips the covers back over Prapai and slips into the pocket of warmth beneath the blanket with him. Prapai’s arm comes around him automatically and he snuggles his head against Prapai’s chest.

“I thought you weren’t going to snuggle me.”

“... Well, I’m going to get sick anyway now.”

Sky presses the side of his head to Prapai’s chest, where he can hear his heart still beating hard.

He lies there for a while, uncomfortably warm, but perfectly happy. He rests there, letting the steady beat of Prapai’s heart and in-and-out of his breath lull him into that place that feels soft and safe. This is ultimately where he wants to be, feeling like this: cloaked in Prapai’s warmth feeling safe and loved.

“P’Pai?” he asks softly, almost hesitant. He knows he’s going soft and he’ll let Prapai see him feeling vulnerable for a moment.

Prapai knows the signs and pets his hair and kisses his temple. He shifts and cuddles so that their noses are bumping softly and they can see too-close into each other’s eyes. “What is it, baby?”

Sky swallows and is scared he doesn’t have the strength to say the words he needs to say. He takes a brave breath and lets it out. Prapai’s eyes are so warm, big, and round. He could so easily get lost there.

“You love me.”

Prapai goes still with the exception of his fingertips still brushing gently through his hair. He doesn’t breathe for a moment, doesn’t blink.

Prapai understands the significance because they have talked about it. Prapai knows and understands the tangle that is Sky’s heart. He knows how hard it has been for him to feel that he is loveable. He knows that even though Sky knows logically Prapai loves him, that his heart just simply refuses to hear it–to believe it. It doesn’t matter how many times Prapai says it, his heart just hasn’t been able to accept it.

Sky can see the careful way Prapai is regarding him and his heart, looking for the meaning.

“Yes, baby,” Prapai says. He ever-so-slowly nods and says carefully in a way that sounds so gentle and earnest, “I love you.”

Sky swallows, and for the first time, the words finally sink into his heart where they belong.

Prapai says it again. “I love you.”

It feels warm and it feels good. It feels vulnerable and soft.

Sky feels a flare of panic because it’s a lot; it’s a lot that the gates to the secret garden of his heart are finally open and willing to accept those words. His chest is in an anxious flutter, but the gate is open and there’s no shutting them now. Prapai has already let himself inside.

Prapai’s hand comes to rest on Sky’s chest, his fingers spread wide and the heel of his hand pressed directly over his heart, like he can gently press the words into his heart and keep them there. “I love you.”

Prapai is watching Sky so intently, his focus shifting between each of Sky’s eyes. Sky tries to open his heart to him, to let him see everything that’s inside. It’s vulnerable, but Prapai would never do anything but take gentle care of his heart; he’s sure of it.

He doesn’t know why it’s today, but it is.

It just is.

Sky sees Prapai’s eyes have gone glassy and a long tear slips from the corner of his eye. Then another. And another. “Okay,” Prapai says. “Okay.” Prapai has multiple tears streaming from his eyes as he looks at Sky. He’s blinking through them, but never takes his gaze from Sky. Prapai’s breath sounds shaky.

Sky breaks first and clutches into him with a sob that comes from the center of his heart, “P’Pai.”

Prapai winds his arms around him and holds him tight. He lets out a sob too, into Sky’s shoulder, where he presses a kiss immediately. Sky is trembling within his hold. He’s opened his heart, and it’s okay. Nothing is coming apart. His heart is still there and beating–loving and being loved.

“I love you.. I love you so much,” Prapai says. Prapai nuzzles his face into Sky’s hair and asks, pained, “Why is this happening when I can’t kiss you?” but it’s not a real reproach, it’s just love.

Sky shuffles a little bit in his arms until he can look up at Prapai’s face. He shifts up onto his elbow then leans down to give Prapai a quick peck of a kiss to his mouth.

Sky sighs and wipes at his own blotchy face from the confines of Prapai’s chest and encircling arms. “You can kiss me.”

Immediately Prapai presses his mouth firmly to Sky’s mouth in a way that feels like another affirmation of love; he feels the message go straight to his emotional core.

Sky kisses him back and winds his arms around Prapai’s shoulders. Prapai kisses him again, making a soft, pained sound.

Sky’s heart beats away and he feels it. He feels it with such certainty: Prapai loves him. Prapai loves him.

Sky’s heart believes it.

His eyes have gone blurry with tears. He tries to wipe them from his face, he tries to stop crying, but he can’t. He can’t seem to stop them from falling. He trembles and lets out a harsh sob.

“Oh, oh no..” Prapai is saying, trying to be soothing. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here, baby. I love you.”

Sky winds his arms tightly around Prapai’s shoulders and scrunches his eyes shut. Prapai’s heart is right there, pressed to Sky’s. He can feel it beating away, loving him. He feels it.

Prapai holds him pets him through it all, all the while offering him the sweetest litany of truth: “I love you..” And he says it over and over again with Sky nodding into his shoulder, then smushing his face into his chest.

Prapai holds him tightly, murmuring the words into his hair, like he’s making up for four years of the same words never truly making it through. They’re making it through now and Sky feels it through Prapai’s every single, sweet murmur.

He lets himself be steeped in those words, and in the warmth of Prapai’s arms.

He can have this.

He can have this love.

He thinks of his fragile dream wished upon a dandelion seed… drifting… drifting… drifting… and caught so gently in Prapai’s open hand.

He is loved.