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It's a night not unlike any other, monsoon season upon them.
The air is thick with humidity, isolated flashes of lightning followed by loud cracks of thunder. It starts and stops, only to begin again every couple of minutes.
The last three hours have been a steady and slow crawl, bloodied knees and torn skin. Ricky's been watching, wanting, waiting.
He busies himself with counting the seconds between the strikes and the sounds that follow. His palms sting from pressing his nails into them deep and hard. The apartment feels so empty without Gyuvin.
Gyuvin, who is probably getting chewed out well into the night for everyone's fuck-ups. Gyuvin, who must be so exhausted because all of this— it's new to him. There's more responsibility sitting on his shoulders. It's a good thing. It's a bad thing. If you ask Ricky, it depends on the day.
Last week had been a brutal one. It's barely been a month and a half of them being this. Forming a new group meant they'd get the chance to re-experience the magic of debut all over. It meant more freedom, less hiding in the closet and being treated like a monster when he's just a boy.
Ricky had almost forgotten about all the bad because everything was bright and blinking, like a star in his very own hands.
The thing about stars is that they're glowing hot balls of gas, hydrogen atoms colliding into each other to create helium and release vast amounts of energy. This—nuclear fusion, it's why a star shines. It's why a star shines and why it burns through the layers of Ricky himself, a gaping hole left where his palms should be.
He'd been on the receiving end of not-so-sweet words from staff before but nothing had ever cut quite as deep as hearing them directly from Gyuvin. And deep down, he knew Gyuvin was just doing what was asked of him— it came along with being their leader.
It leaves their relationship unstable, Ricky fleeing away to tend to his wounds all alone. It's by choice, but he misses the hard and subdued ways of Gyuvin's hands. They could tear him apart and put him back together.
These days it seems that breaking him apart is the only thing Gyuvin knows how to do— not with his hands but with everything else.
Gyuvin stays late at the company, pushing his body beyond it's limits and grimacing every morning. He doesn't say a word and Ricky should know that it's not because Gyuvin is too proud to do so but because everything they knew had been ripped and stolen from their bloody hands.
Gyuvin doesn't crawl into bed with him every night, and if he does, he's always gone before Ricky wakes. The casual touches become far and few between and there's a vein on Gyuvin's forehead that seems to tense permanently.
Ricky hasn't said anything about it because he doesn't know what he'd say. Everything that comes to mind feels too little, too pathetic.
Hey Gyuvin, can you treat me like you still love me?
Honey, talk to me.
I'm trying my best. I'm giving it my all. Why can't you see that?
Starting anew doesn't make things easier. It's like putting a shiny coat of paint over a wall that's molding. And maybe that's the problem— maybe Ricky's just gone bad.
The horse could be on the brink of death and still he drags. It's all he knows how to do now.
Gyuvin finally comes home at half past ten, body soaked in sweat. He smells like a boy and Ricky wants to get his teeth on him to prove to himself that he's still deserving of it— to prove to Gyuvin that there's still something inside him worth loving.
He doesn't move from his place on the couch, just watches as the other tries to find his way in the dark, shoes tossed haphazardly by the door.
"Hey." It's one of the few things Gyuvin says to him these days. They never have time to really talk. It's bullshit because they both know Ricky would stay up until dawn just to talk. There was nothing like sharing air with Gyuvin, existing with him as their hearts became syncopated.
"Hey.” He lets the pettiness win but it only lasts a few seconds before he's sighing, running a hand through his blonde hair while he pats the space next to him with the other.
"I'm all sweaty, I should shower."
"Gyuvin, come here and sit—" And because he's a nice boy. "Please.”
Ricky's shoulders relax just a fraction when he feels the couch sink underneath their doubled weight. Gyuvin lays his head on Ricky's shoulder and really, he should feel disgusted. Gyuvin's hair is wet from sweat, the crown of his head still damp and clammy.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He kisses the top of Gyuvin's head instead, nosing at his scalp and breathing in the scent of him.
"Do you really want me to?" Ricky does and he doesn't. He's not in the mood to be critiqued or have his performance evaluated by Gyuvin, his group leader. But he wants to bare the weight of the heavy things that rest on the mind of Gyuvin, his lover. Boyfriend, partner— whatever they are. Labels made things too complicated when the only lesson he had been taught over and over was that everything was temporary.
Still, he wants Gyuvin to spill into him like rain does across the land. He wants to halve the other's sorrow, kiss on his tender skin and hope it reaches deep enough inside that it soothes the emotional wounds just enough.
"Of course I do. I'm your— boyfriend. If you can't lay it all on me then who else?" They've never put a name to it but in moments like these it feels like the right thing to say.
Gyuvin's body seems to relax more, the weight of him comforting against Ricky's side. He brushes through Gyuvin's still wet brown air, a touch faint enough that it could be kiss.
"I feel like I'm drowning. I was so happy when they told us I'd be leading because I looked up to Hanbin hyung so much but— would it make me a bad person to say this feels like a nightmare? So many people want to be here, where I am and I should be grateful but…"
Gyuvin takes Ricky's face into his hands softly and Ricky lets himself take it all in. Face to face, he lets all the thoughts flow because it is what it is. Face to face, he sees a boy whose nothing short of a nervous wreck these days, doing his best to hide his fears because he's been made to believe he must conquer the world on his own.
"I'm scared that you're going to resent me.” Gyuvin's voice is a whisper and Ricky wouldn’t be able to look away from the whole of him even if he wanted to. "I don't like having to be strict with you— I'm not your boss or your mom. I'm just Gyuvin and I don't know what I would do if you—" He doesn't finish his sentence, just looks away while keeping his hands on Ricky's face.
On any other night, Ricky wouldn't push for it because he knows. He should know and yet his insecurities are too big for the room they occupy.
"If I what?" He sets a hand atop of one of Gyuvin's, nuzzling into it as a form of comfort.
"If you stopped loving me.” He looks back at Ricky and tries to retract his hands but Ricky doesn't let him get far. He doesn't let him get away at all, keeping Gyuvin's left hand prisoner right up against his skin.
"That's impossible."
"It's all I think about these days."
"Talk to me then.” Ricky pulls him in so close that Gyuvin is caging him in with his knees. The couch is too small for two six foot men to be tangled up the way they are but they're Gyuvin and Ricky— it defies the laws of the universe. It works. "When you don't it feels like the world might end. Gyuvin-ah, I never cared about what anyone thought of me until I met you." It's a half-truth. Some nights he'll cry quietly over everything the world has to say about him. "Honestly? I'm scared that you don't love me anymore. And that's not even the worst of it. I can live without you loving me because I'll love you regardless. I can't live knowing that you may think little of me— it would break my heart."
"No, no, no. Rick, hey, look at me.” Ricky hadn't even realized he'd begun crying. "I think— I think the world of you. There's not a second in my life where my brain can shut up about you."
Ricky can't help but chuckle, soft and wet. They must look so strange, two boys on a couch clinging on to each other with so much urgency you'd think they were going to disappear. Maybe they will, maybe there's something only the two of them know, a secret they keep so close to the space between their chests.
"Really?" His eyes are mystified and he asks Gyuvin this just to hear him say it all over again. The bruising on his heart fades, a kiss right on the organ. Lightning flashes and thunder cracks. There is light and it will go out again, and again, and again, but it will always circle back around.
"Now you're just fishing." But Gyuvin humors him anyway, impossibly closer than before and dragging his lips against the exposed skin of Ricky's neck. He whispers the words, mouths them and lets them sink into Ricky's skin like ink. It draws goosebumps all over his arms, back tingling in anticipation.
Gyuvin pulls away too quickly, getting up from the couch. He watches the way Ricky's body chases after him with a smile on his face.
"I need to shower, baby."
Ricky's still got the smell of him in his hair. It lingers on his septum, the surface of the skin on his neck where Gyuvin's lips had made contact.
He doesn't know why he feels so small still. It would be so easy to tell Gyuvin what he wants but he's not sure of that himself. It's not just sex he's after tonight.
He wants Gyuvin to kiss him slowly, tongue in Ricky's mouth til it leave him breathless. He wants to feel the warmth of it map every single one of his teeth, dip into small curves of all his molars. He wants Gyuvin's spit in his mouth to be reminded of what it tastes like.
"Gyu…" Ricky's voice drifts off, drowned in the room. He sits with his knees pressed together tightly and he's sure his cheeks are flushed. Just when he thinks his heart has calmed, it starts up again and beats against his chest impossibly hard. He's looking into Gyuvin's eyes and hoping that the other understands because if not him, then who?
It's like falling, when Gyuvin takes Ricky's hand into his. It's warm, so solid, and it pulls him to the darkness of Ricky's bedroom— their bedroom.
The other sits him down gently and for a few seconds all he does is look. Ricky had left the curtains open before having moved to the living room to continue his spiraling. He had been watching the sky, as if the weather would provide answers. It seems that it has.
"Do you want to know something, Kim Ricky?" Gyuvin takes Ricky's face into his hand again, grip subtle but firm as he tilts Ricky's head to one side.
"Hm?" He watches, enraptured by the way Gyuvin's eyes seem to glimmer. It's a lot like the sun shining down on the ocean.
"Loving you is so easy. It's second nature, baby.” He kisses at the corner of Ricky's lips, once, twice, and then he tongues at the dip because he's— weird. Ricky thinks it's just a Gyuvin thing.
And here Gyuvin is, comforting him while he's probably just as bruised himself. Ricky's not that strong, emotionally anyway. He gets hurt easily and pretends that it doesn't despite the fact that he can't hide a single thing on his face.
He reaches out and pulls Gyuvin into him hard. It knocks the breath out of them both, the position uncomfortable but the heat of his lover's body on top of his own feels the same as having the sun kiss his skin.
"Me too. I'll always feel it, in here.” He takes Gyuvin's palm and places it right over his left pectoral. It's a tight squeeze, Gyuvin's hand almost crushed beneath the weight of his body but he looks at Ricky so gently, all of his teeth on display when he smiles.
"I can't believe you're letting me on the bed while I'm all sweaty."
"Don't ruin the moment, Gyuvin."
His laugh is sweeter than peaches, apricots, clementines, strawberries— it's sticky and sugary and Ricky wants Gyuvin to laugh against the shape of his mouth.
He pats the other on the back, pushing against his chest for him to get up.
"What, did the sweat thing catch up to you?" He pulls away from Ricky, making a show of taking off his shirt. Ricky watches, body held up by his elbows.
"Shut up. I just wanted us to get more comfortable.” He looks away when Gyuvin begins to slip out of his sweatpants, cheeks heating up. He's seen Gyuvin undress a million times and still he looks away. He feels like a pervert and it fills his chest with wasps, anticipation and excitement making him feel like his heart might actually beat out of his chest.
"Is that right, baby?"
Ricky moves up on the bed and he's sure it's not sexy in the slightest. He doesn't have to try with Gyuvin though. Gyuvin thinks Ricky's sexy all the time— his words not Ricky's. Still, sometimes, most of the time, he wants to show off. Gyuvin is worth all of the effort in the world.
"Yeah." Ricky doesn't take off his clothes because he know Gyuvin enjoys it much more. He likes to drag it out, kiss every inch of skin revealed like it's the first time.
Gyuvin's fully nude now and Ricky lets himself look, just a little. He's beautiful. He's slim and slender, long legs and soft features that become rough when the smallest bit of tension courses through him. His shoulders are so broad and Ricky loves it when his arms flex. He wants to bite at Gyuvin's biceps and do other improper things with them.
He finally gets on the bed, crawling over Ricky and settling once their eyes meet.
Gyuvin's length is half hard, brushing against the fabric of Ricky's pants but he doesn't chase after pleasure yet. Instead he leans down to take Ricky's lips into a kiss.
It's tender, a little dry. Gyuvin leads, Ricky's bottom lip being taken by the other's teeth and pulled on. He's sure that if Gyuvin pulls any harder they'll both taste blood, feeling every tug on the gentle skin, taut and stretched with tension.
He lets it go but never pulls away, they don't need to breathe when they can share the air in their lungs.
Gyuvin kisses him again, running the tip of his tongue over the seam of Ricky's lips. He's so easy for Gyuvin, so he lets him in immediately.
The weight of Gyuvin's tongue in his mouth is welcome, familiar and sweet. Ricky sucks on it like he's going to die if he doesn't. He listens intently because he loves the sounds they make when they're given these private moments.
It should scare him, the want, the way he'd give anything to feel the hardness of Gyuvin's bones against his own. He wants to rub against them until they're both nothing but powder. He wants to be a ladybug, lazily exploring the surface of Gyuvin's palm. He wants to kiss him, every single morning and every single night.
It's like a dream. He's melting into their bed, his own tongue powerless when faced with his desires. It should terrify him— that he'd let Gyuvin kiss him until he's blue in the face but his life wouldn't be half as beautiful if he didn't let love swallow him whole.
Gyuvin explores Ricky's mouth like he's trying to do just that.
They finally break apart because as much as Ricky would love to die in Gyuvin's kiss, he enjoys being alive and getting to kiss him every day much more.
Their breathing is labored, Gyuvin's chest expanding with every inhale. Ricky wants to devour and be devoured, cheeks red while he looks at the man on top of him.
Gyuvin's dark brown hair sticks to his forehead, drops of sweat beginning to trail down his face. The crown of his head is still damp.
Ricky smiles. Nothing like a little bit of kissing to turn Gyuvin into putty, ready to be molded by Ricky's delicate hands.
"Undress me already."
"What ever happened to foreplay?" Gyuvin teases him like he always does but he listens, making quick work of Ricky's shirt. It gets lost somewhere in the dark that swallows them but never blinds them fully. Ricky can still make out Gyuvin's face and that's all that matters.
Lightning flashes and one of Gyuvin's hands trail down Ricky's chest, drawing little circles around his nipple. It feels too good for something so small. Ricky leans into it, silently begging for Gyuvin to just touch him where he wants to be touched.
"I thought you wanted me to undress you first?" He's all bark, tongue running along his teeth. He smiles so smugly when he finally takes the bud and squeezes it between his thumb and index.
"You're so annoying.” But Ricky arches further into the hand, unbelievably warm.
Gyuvin's hand doesn't tire, the boy coming closer and closer until he's nosing at the space between Ricky's breasts. His breath is warm against the skin, dampening it with each exhale.
He kisses down Ricky's sternum, something hazy and barely there. His lips are chapped and each drag of broken skin feels like being kissed by the edge of a blade. It leaves goosebumps all over Ricky's skin.
"You're so pretty here," Gyuvin speaks the words right onto the skin right above Ricky's navel.
"Only there?"
"Everywhere, baby.” Gyuvin pulls back, finally relenting and letting go of Ricky's overly sensitive nipple. He cradles Ricky's head, hand caressing his blond hair. "You're gorgeous. I thought I was going to die when I saw your hair."
"I thought you liked my black hair?" He slaps Gyuvin's chest playfully, unable to help the smile on his face.
"I'll love you when you inevitably go bald," Gyuvin says, because he thinks he's a comedian.
"Yah, Kim Qubing. Don't even put that out there.” He subconsciously goes to touch his hair, fingers grazing Gyuvin's in the process.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" Gyuvin's so sincere when he says it, eyes glowing.
Ricky gulps, nodding. He watches Gyuvin watch him, catching the moment that Gyuvin's eyes stray to Ricky’s neck when he swallows.
Gyuvin's hands move slow but with urgency, pulling down Ricky's pants and underwear at the same time.
Finally, they are skin to skin. It's so hot and Gyuvin still smells so much like a boy— it drives Ricky insane.
Ricky reaches for him the way people reach for the sky when they're drowning.
When they kiss this time, it's still tender but in the same way bruises are. It's fast and it's wet and Ricky can't get enough of him. He never will.
He sucks on Gyuvin's bottom lip like he's trying to swallow him. The other kisses back with just as much fervor, letting himself be guided by Ricky's hungry mouth.
"Gyuvin-ah.” He moans into the other's mouth, shaking like a leaf as their lips refuse to separate.
"Yeah?"
"Let me be on top.” He pecks Gyuvin's lips one last time, finally pulling away after.
And because Gyuvin would do anything for him, he listens. First his hand slips from Ricky's hair. Then, he pulls up, sitting and just watching Ricky for a few seconds. His eyes are half lidded and hazy, a product of exhaustion and desire. Finally, he pulls away entirely and lays down right beside Ricky.
If Ricky's honest, he likes to drag these things out just as much as Gyuvin does. So, he turns on his side, facing the other just to trace the outline of his side profile.
He runs a finger down the slope of Gyuvin's nose, getting closer and closer until he can bury his nose in the juncture of Gyuvin's neck. Ricky breathes him in, his scent heady and intoxicating. It's musky and earthy, almost sweet at the root. Gyuvin smells like sweat and hard work and Ricky can't help the fact that it makes him a little bit dizzy, cock pulsing every time he inhales.
"You're so weird."
"You smell good.” He sounds drunk, feels it too. He licks at the skin, savoring the salty taste it leaves in his mouth. "I like you," he adds, just because he can.
"I like you too.” Gyuvin turns his head then and their faces are close once again, lips almost touching. Ricky goes cross-eyed looking at him. "Can you touch me, hm baby?" And Ricky would give him the world if he was asking that sweetly. He'd give him the world regardless.
Ricky crawls over him, caging the other in with his knees. Gyuvin watches his every move, the smallest of smiles on his face. Ricky takes Gyuvin's face in his hands like it's a pearl, eyes flitting from the mole on his neck to the corner of his lips, his nose. Ricky bends down and drops a kiss to the tip of it, thumbs rubbing circles right below Gyuvin's pretty eyes.
He's so in love, sick with it in fact.
The first drag feels a little like torture. It's too dry and there's not enough pressure but the intimacy of the moment only spurs him on further. Ricky rolls his hips again, a little harder, a little deeper if only to feel the skin of Gyuvin's length as close as humanly possible.
"Feels good.” Gyuvin smiles at him lazily, hands grabbing Ricky's waist and bringing them impossibly closer. The action makes them both hiss, Ricky's knees shaking when a new wave of pleasure washes over him. "Do you want to do it like this?" Gyuvin's hands travel lower, heavy on his hips and squeezing.
He shakes his head, unable to get the words out. He makes fun of Gyuvin for getting hard over kissing but here he is, non verbal after some heavy petting. He kind of likes the way it makes him feel pathetic, the best kind of embarrassment rushing through his bloodstream.
"You want it like this, baby?" Gyuvin punctuates his words with another roll of his hips, the tip of his cock brushing right over the prominent vein on Ricky's own. It's slow torture, death by a thousand cuts— it feels so wonderful.
He doesn't answer with words, he can't. Instead he presses most of his body weight against Gyuvin, hands dropping from the other's face to hold himself up. He's shaking, building up a sweat from the heat their bodies produce together. He's burning up from the inside out.
He pecks Gyuvin's lips once, rubbing their noses together with his eyes closed. The moment feels fragile and distant and he never wants it to end.
One of Gyuvin's hands moves from his hips to the space between them, the tips of his fingers barely brushing against the expanse of Ricky's belly. It's electric and it makes him shake more, a breathy moan slipping from his lips.
Gyuvin takes them both into his hand because of course he can. They're big and calloused and beautiful. The feeling of skin on skin is as euphoric as it is dry so it feels nice when the other messily spreads their pre-cum in his hand. The glide still isn't silky smooth but Ricky feels like he's close enough to heaven, head dropping to rest against Gyuvin's collarbones.
Gyuvin's hand is so warm, holding them so tightly it hurts little but Ricky doesn't want to ask him to ease up. He's slow with it, hand moving up and down as Ricky makes little aborted thrusts into his fist. He moans whenever the nonexistent space between them forces the skin of his cock down. He feels like an exposed nerve ending, breathing in deeply, body unsure of whether to shy away from the pleasure-pain.
"Gyu—ah.” His mouth stays open, softly mouthing at Gyuvin's skin because talking is so hard when his tongue feels heavy and he's drunk on the smell of sex. "Arm, arm up—please."
"I don't want to let you go.” Gyuvin cranes his neck up so he can whisper in Ricky's ear, hot breath making the little one shudder. "You have enough to work with here, don't be greedy."
Ricky whines high in his throat, closing his eyes impossibly tight.
"You're so unfair,” he manages to speak without stuttering but he's still so far gone. The room has melted to nothing and the only thing left of the world is him and Gyuvin.
"You wanted this."
"Don't act like—fuck, that feels good—don't act like you don't like this."
"Never said I didn't, just told you not to be greedy, baby," Gyuvin says this but he moves his arm slightly, the folded skin by his armpit stretching out just a little.
Ricky might be a clean freak but one of the reasons he enjoys sex with Gyuvin so much is how messy it can get. It's dirty, filthy, disgusting, and he noses at the newly exposed skin like a bloodhound.
It's kind of gross but he likes the way Gyuvin smells after a long day. It's the natural scent of his skin, tangy and fruity. It reminds Ricky of Yuzu. There's a notes of musk and petrichor somewhere there, and for some reason it always takes Ricky back to nights spent on the beach, the wind pushing his hair back.
Scent is so important to him, powerful enough to make him remember even the dullest of memories. When his nose gets close to Gyuvin's skin, whether he's clean of the day's grime or like now, Ricky's flooded with beautiful memories. Sunsets, hard rain in the summer, the dates Gyuvin has planned for them and all of his thoughtfulness.
It makes him feel so full of love and other things, like he's got an entire universe inside of him.
"You're kind of a pervert, you know that?" Gyuvin begins to move his hand faster. The glide is no longer dry because Gyuvin leaks like a faucet and it's one of the things Ricky likes most about sex with him. He likes that it's messy, the physical evidence of their love making.
"Impossible to be a bigger one than you.” His voice is shaky but even in his state of low autonomy he needs to bite back.
Gyuvin laughs quietly and Ricky pulls away from where he had his face buried in Gyuvin's armpit just to see him smile. He loves Gyuvin's smile, thinks his teeth are so pretty and shiny. He leans down and kisses them, what he can at least.
This only serves to make Gyuvin laugh harder and in turn makes Ricky laugh. Their teeth knock against each others and it hurts a little but that's part of the fun. Gyuvin's eyes crinkle at the corners, the cutest little crescent moons.
One sharp tug has them both hissing, eyes closed and reminded of the way their bodies long for release.
Ricky hadn't even realized he was so close, practically on the precipice of a rebirth. His dick feels impossibly hard, skin tender and red when he finally looks down at the space between them. It's a dangerous thing, looking. He'll get hung up on the way their cocks drag against each other, the glistening of Gyuvin's hand and how his dick is too big to fit inside his palm, head exposed and red for Ricky's viewing pleasure. He's got a little puddle of pre-cum pooling just above his navel, falling into the little dip between his abs.
It makes Ricky a little dizzy. Gyuvin's an Adonis, beautiful in a way that deserves to be studied and romanticized for centuries.
"Gyu—ah, I'm gonna—" he doesn't get to finish his thought, the orgasm ripped from him like paper being torn. His body is taut like a bowstring, toes curling as he feels the pleasure move through him in waves. It makes him close his eyes, head falling on Gyuvin's chest to hear his heart beat.
When the last bit of pleasure finally crashes through him, he feels like a beach after a storm. Still sky, only the soft sounds of the waves breaking against the sand. The perfect image of peace.
Gyuvin kisses the crown of his head, jerking himself off to completion while he still has both of them in his hand. Ricky doesn't complain about the overstimulation, how it feels like pins and needles against his delicate skin. There's something about it that's equally as enjoyable— and he likes to feel it, when Gyuvin comes.
When he finally does, his mouth drops open, warm breaths kissing the very top of Ricky's head. He inhales and it's ragged, like he can't get enough air into his lungs.
They're sticky, sweaty, and warm when Ricky begins to pull away. He doesn't go very far, bringing his tongue to Gyuvin's belly button which is now flooded with their mixed release. He laps at it with the same delicateness that cats have while drinking water.
"Freak." Gyuvin's still out of breath, chest rising and falling rapidly. The right side of his mouth is quirked up, eyes twinkling with mirth. He looks like he wants to go again but Ricky is well and truly spent. On any other night he'd be willing to lay down and let Gyuvin use his body as he pleased but right now he just wants—
He drags a finger through the pool of white on Gyuvin's toned belly, bringing it to Gyuvin's lips and asking for permission. Gyuvin is all too happy to open his mouth, sucking on the digit like it's a Michelin star meal.
Ricky likes Gyuvin like this, satiated and boneless beneath him. There's no worry on his face, no veins that tense in agitation— just pure, unadulterated tranquility.
"I love you, you know that?" He throws Gyuvin's wording back at him, slipping his finger free from Gyuvin's mouth. He wipes his hand dry on the sheets as best as he can before cradling Gyuvin's face once again.
He watches Gyuvin's eyes the same way he watched the sky, waiting with baited breaths for lightning to strike. He'll count the seconds, minutes, hours between the breaths, waiting to hear the crack of thunder.
"Of course I know.” Gyuvin's head lolls to one side, eyes closing when he smiles. "I love you, more than I can ever express in this life and the next.” He turns his head and kisses Ricky's palm.
And maybe its true, what they say about hands being the window to the soul, because that kiss settles the last bit of anxiety stirring inside him. He feels the pressure right above his chest, a soft squeeze around his heart.
Once vanished, he is whole again. And it'll happen over and over and over because that's just the way things go.