He loves him. He loves him. He replays the words in his mind over and over again. Everything that he is, all the bad and all the good, all the spite and envy and missteps and guilt, all the pieces of him that are broken and never will be properly mended - he loves him, not in spite of all those things, but perhaps because he is all those things. He's been loved but not tolerated because of the things he is and isn't - Irish, middle bred, no ear for politics, a sailor who keeps but a single drawer when on land.
It's all of him, not just the acceptable pieces. He sees the ghosts that haunt him and has stayed. They're a fitting pair, aren't they? Both of them plagued by their pasts and unsure of their futures. But they work, they make each other smile and laugh, they hold each other when things are difficult and try to protect each other from the ills of the world.
Crozier slowly brings his hand up brush his thumb under Rama's eye, catching any tears that might have fallen, then tilts his head back oh-so-gently to press a kiss to his lips. He lets him feel the brief smile that spreads across his face, then angles his head to fit them together properly, inadvertently sharing the sigh that escapes him. He tastes a little salty, a little sweet, lips still just as lush and indulgent as they'd felt when he'd first kissed him earlier that evening. His fingers trail down to his beard, along his jaw, pulling back to press smaller kisses to his lips and over his cheeks and nose.
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Date: 2024-07-10 03:46 am (UTC)He loves him. He loves him. He replays the words in his mind over and over again. Everything that he is, all the bad and all the good, all the spite and envy and missteps and guilt, all the pieces of him that are broken and never will be properly mended - he loves him, not in spite of all those things, but perhaps because he is all those things. He's been loved but not tolerated because of the things he is and isn't - Irish, middle bred, no ear for politics, a sailor who keeps but a single drawer when on land.
It's all of him, not just the acceptable pieces. He sees the ghosts that haunt him and has stayed. They're a fitting pair, aren't they? Both of them plagued by their pasts and unsure of their futures. But they work, they make each other smile and laugh, they hold each other when things are difficult and try to protect each other from the ills of the world.
Crozier slowly brings his hand up brush his thumb under Rama's eye, catching any tears that might have fallen, then tilts his head back oh-so-gently to press a kiss to his lips. He lets him feel the brief smile that spreads across his face, then angles his head to fit them together properly, inadvertently sharing the sigh that escapes him. He tastes a little salty, a little sweet, lips still just as lush and indulgent as they'd felt when he'd first kissed him earlier that evening. His fingers trail down to his beard, along his jaw, pulling back to press smaller kisses to his lips and over his cheeks and nose.