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In the morning when I wake
And the sun is coming through,
Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,
And you fill my head with you
Peeking down at the sleeping snufkin on his lap, Moomin pretended to not notice the faintest hint of purring as his best friend drifted in and out of sleep.
They lie together on the outskirts of a wide, golden field in the middle of a summer day. Neither were in any hurry, deciding long ago that today was best spent as lazily as possible.
Sunlight floated around them, glinting softly through the swaying leaves of the trees they took refuge under. In this way, Snufkin looked even more angelic than usual when he slept. Uneven splotches of bright tones illuminated random parts of his facial features and it was absolutely mesmerizing to the moomin. As much as he tried to capture feelings such as this, moments such as this one, he simply could not find the proper words. Indeed, he was now quite sure that after all these years, there may not even be any words to fairly express himself.
Shall I write it in a letter?
Shall I try to get it down?
Oh, you fill my head with pieces
Of a song I can't get out
Snufkin shifted ever so slightly and if Moomin had not been paying such close attention he might have missed the tiniest smile that ghosted itself across his lips.
“What ever could you be thinking that might elicit such a blissful expression?”
“I could ask you the very same question.” Snufkin’s retort came a bit too quickly.
Moomin forgot whatever it was he was going to say, mouth hanging open slightly. How on earth could Snufkin have seen the undoubtedly dopey look on his face.
Can I be close to you?
Sitting back a bit to make more room for Snufkin to sit up halfway on his lap, Moomintroll gladly wrapped an arm loosely around the other man. Snufkin looked up from his vantage point, the back of his head pressing into Moomin’s chest. It look the troll’s breath away to see those brown eyes staring back at him then, no matter how many times he had seen them before. In this particular lighting, Moomin could have sworn there were pieces of gold reflecting back at him in those eyes. Lost in his thoughts for the uptenth time that day, he did not notice when Snufkin reached a paw up to rest it on the side of his snout.
“There it is again.” Snufkin chuckled lightly. “The subject of your own thoughts must be quite lucky.”
Moomin returned the smile, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. “I would like to believe he already knows that.”
“Cheeky.”
Can I take it to a morning
Where the fields are painted gold
And the trees are filled with memories
Of the feelings never told?
Words didn’t matter as much to Snufkin. He always seemed to value silence and careful consideration, even when they were children. It was rather difficult in the beginning. Moomin almost immediately latched onto the vagabond and now that he thought on it, Snufkin must have been so very uncomfortable many times back then.
Moomin mused to himself, how odd it was that now Snufkin (while never admitting to it aloud) was perfectly fine with many overt displays of affection. Especially when it came to the troll.
When did they both change so drastically? Perhaps growing up may have come with its pains, trials, and errors. However, there was no denying that having done so together, made them the men they were today.
“Might be about time to head back.” Snufkin broke their thoughtful silence, making a move to get up. Moomin gently shook his head and pulled him back, embracing him from behind.
“Not yet.”
When the evening pulls the sun down,
And the day is almost through,
Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,
But my world is you
Knowing better than to tease Moomin at that, Snufkin allowed himself to be held longer, his purring continuing on from earlier.
For Snufkin, it was much the same. He didn’t really wish to leave quite yet, only thinking that their friends might be out looking for them by now. He felt the moomins paw slip easily through his unkempt, auburn brown locks of hair. He closed his eyes again and leaned further back to give the other more access to his head.
How long has it been? Snufkin found his mind wandering.
The last time Snufkin had cut his hair, it must have been on the first day of spring this year and already it had grown out so much. He knew Moomin didn’t mind. Perhaps, he even quite liked it. Was this the reason Snufkin hadn’t been in a hurry to sheer it all off in the summer like he usually did? Maybe this wasn’t even the first time he had subconsciously done something specifically because it pleased Moomin.
This should have made Snufkin feel itchy. Ache to leave and distance himself from everyone, especially Moomintroll. He certainly could still remember a time when that would have been exactly what he would do in situations such as this. When did that change?
Can I be close to you?
Moomin ran his fingers through the thick tufts of hair absentmindedly, finally gathering up his feelings enough to attempt to speak again after what must have been quite a while. His face grew warmer, a dusting of pink blooming over his snout. He knew Snufkin couldn’t see him right now and that very much helped.
“Snuf…” He started.
The mumrik wore a knowing grin as he waited patiently. “Yes, dove?”
Can I be close to you?
