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He sits on the roof, overlooking the very courtyard in which he’d last seen him. If he’s even seen the man. His Knight. His best friend. His lover. The first real great lover of his life. He’d been so young at the time, barely a man himself and he still can’t believe his Knight had loved him back. Just a heathen, a reckless kid. And the man over twice his age had loved him. They’d been so different. And it had been so many years ago. Countless, he thinks as he sits there and stares. He’d married and had kids since then. And his wife had died and his kids are old enough now for kids of their own.
He’s long since moved on, he has men at his side and in his bed. And still, he can remember how his Knight had felt against him, around him and in him. He remembers the way the man tasted and his voice! He closes his eyes and he can see him again, hear his gruff voice calling him an arseling again.
Had it been real? Seeing him over the past month. Had his spirit been following him? Taunting him into not giving into that fucking witch? Into the weird pull she had over him? Or had it all been a trick of hers? He may never know.
“Lord?”
He opens his eyes hearing the younger man’s voice and he sighs. He doesn't turn or speak but he lifts his hand and waves them forward. He can feel both of their hesitations. Then he feels them move closer and one sits on each side and he breathes them in.
“Are you thinking about him?” Their boy asks softly, his voice sounding timid.
He sighs and nods. He won’t lie, not to them.
“Are ye okay?” Their Irishman asks.
He nods again and feels the boy moving closer. The younger man leans against him and the older man on the other side of him wraps an arm around both of them and the Lord breathes out. “I love you.” He says, speaking to all three of them.