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Phillip loves watching him from the rumpled bed. His fingers are still tingling with the desire to map his body even though he spent all of last night doing exactly that. He wonders if he could, perhaps, steal him away from the world. He thinks back to when they were just young boys, all gangly limbs and open desires.
We really have come so far, his mind supplies, thinking back to their first kiss, their first caress, trembling skin on trembling skin. The smell of the sun clinging to William’s hair after a day out walking in the gardens. The wet taste of his lips and the scattered spots left by puberty on his face that he could feel every time he stroked his cheeks. How graceless both of them were.
He approaches William slowly and takes the blade he was using to shave in his hand. Disheveled sheets falling onto the floor behind.
“When is your mother expecting us?” Phillip continues to brush the sharp edge gently across the skin of his cheeks, now free of spots, if he looks closely he can see the fainting scars.
“Tomorrow” William’s eyes flicker to his lips, his hair, his ears, “Evening” like an afterthought.
“Could I stay today here then? With you.”
“Today and tomorrow.” said softly, a kiss on the nose, a breath of spring, “And forever, if you’d have me.”
“I would have you,” a kiss on the lips, the shaving blade passing one last time through his neck “Today and tomorrow, forever.”
A bird sings a soft melody outside the window.
And it sounds like a promise.