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This is evening, and this is the first time Robert's lips meet Sol's.
Sol stands in the hallway, alone, with Frankie out with their sons, when Robert first tells him he loves him.
He stands there, gripping the receiver in his hand and in that moment, everything is completely and endlessly quiet.
He feels like his heart is being crushed, and if he hadn't had a physical recently, he would be worried about having a heart attack.
The second he can breathe again he slams the receiver against the phone, disconnecting the call. His gaze wanders around the hall of their house, their home and he feels air block down his throat, despite inhaling sharply. He walks, purposefully, to his bedroom where he stares down at his bed.
I love you
Sol grabs his pillow from his side of the bed, brings it to his face and muffles his scream with it. He feels it grow damp from the tears he didn't realize he was shedding and a loud sob meets the canvas. He holds it against his face, takes a shaky breath.
Sol puts the pillow down, turns it around so the marks he left won't give him away. He pulls a tissue from the box beside the bed, left there when he had had the flu, and he had been bedridden for two days. He blows his nose and wipes the corners of his eyes.
He walks back to the hallway and picks up the receiver.
He stands there biting his nails when he presses redial and waits for what feels like an eternity, although he knows it must have been only a second. Robert had been waiting by the phone, he knows it now.
When Robert answers Sol feels like his voice has left him, and he feels another tear fall down his cheek to his shirt.
And then, then, then, he says it too.
"I love you, too"
And as soon as the words leave his mouth they truly, finally, become irrevocably true, and he can't think of anything else.
He loves Robert, he does, he does, he does.
He hears Robert exhale, in a manner that reveals his soul completely, and Sol manages to answer with a laugh-like sob.
"Yeah."
He knows Robert so well because he knows exactly how he must look on the other end, how his lips curve into an unhidable smile. Sol knows that this is their small window of time, which has to end because the world stops for no man, even if he is hopelessly, unmeasurably, desperately in love, and knows it now. He has to say something.
"I think.. I will see you then, I will see you later."
He says. Later is good, later he can deal with.
"Sol."
Robert whispers and Sol feels shivers down his spine at the way he says it.
It's the tone of voice that promises Sol the entire world and nothing less, and Sol feels his knees go weak. He hopes he can evoke those feelings in Robert but when he breathes into the receiver the sound that Robert makes back at him confirms this wish.
They look at each other across the room and before Robert can begin to put a sentence right in his head Sol's hands are on him, on his face and around his waist and their lips meet in the middle. Robert feels Sol smile against his mouth.
This is who they are, now.
When they break apart, and he sees Sol's eyes look back at him, deep and earnest, like he is, too, Robert inhales and pulls Sol closer, lets Sol envelope him completely in his arms.
When Sol brings his hands against the front of Robert's shirt and tugs on it impatiently, Robert kisses him again.
Sol's hands are large and warm and they map the lines of Robert's body in a delightful way, careful and light, deliberate and urgent. His hands keep finding new places of Roberts body, that, when touched, cause sounds that Sol can't get enough of. He learns everything of his lover, in daylight and night, clothes on and off.
He learns how Robert's hair feels between the tips of his fingers and how it feels when their noses bump together. He knows, like the back of his hand, the look Robert gives him through a full room. That look speaks of infinite longing and tenderness and want and makes Sol's heart run.
I can't breathe in the house anymore, Robert repeats in his mind.
He knows he has to go home, eventually, because the time is not right, not today (like it never is). But even if it's just few hours, he needs to be out of his house. He can't remember when he began consistently thinking it as a house rather than home.
So he gets behind the wheel and drives and his mind is blank.
When he reaches the beach house he gets directly inside, trying to find some kind of a revelation, some kind of an answer.
Just as he's through the door he sees Sol.
Sol is standing in the door frame of the deck, barefoot and his hair lightly brushed by the ocean breeze. He faces the horizon and he stands there in the complete silence.
Robert faces the back of the man he's loved for nearly fifteen years.
Of course Sol is here. There he always is.
He thinks that Sol must have noticed him, behind him, by now. His gaze follows the line of Sol's spine.
There, he finds an answer in a way- and there's no doubt in his mind when he realizes that Sol is (in) his future.
Robert walks up to him and Sol speaks before him, but Robert might as well have spoken, because Sol puts his thoughts into words.
They're facing the future, and any day now, they're going to begin it together.
Robert wants nothing more than to stay right here. He wants to take Sol by the hand and walk down to the waterfront. He wants to stay here and watch the sunset and sunrise.
It's not to be, today.
Robert closes his eyes and feels the wind on his face. He holds onto Sol's arm and Sol puts his hand over his fingers, squeezing a little bit.
This is Morning, and this is where they lie together, reading the paper and Sol sips on the tea Robert brings to bed for him.
He brings Sol tea and toast (Sol takes care not to get crumbs on the bed) and Sol's small jar of honey,
(organic, local; he brings the jar just so Sol can determine how much of it he uses.)
Robert drinks coffee with cream and his mug is on his bedside table, already empty since he drinks it fast.
Robert reads with quiet concentration, his reading glasses perched on his nose and Sol watches him beyond the rim of his mug.
Sol puts his mug down and sits closer to his boyfriend, leaning back against his shoulder.
He stretches, settles back and burrows his face against Robert's neck. He knows Robert can't concentrate on his financial times when he does that, and it's all fine by him. He enjoys hearing the quickening pulse and the familiar deep breathing. He shifts, letting his lips touch the skin, and when he hums a little, he can feel Robert's skin grow warmer.
Sol runs his fingers against Robert's shirt, stops at the top button and makes quick work of opening it, before repeating with the one under that. Robert lets the paper drop and closes his eyes, leaning back. Sol carefully takes off his glasses and puts them by the bed.
He goes back to Robert's shirt and opens his buttons one by one, before tracing his chest with his fingertips. He knows this. He knows Robert like this, pliant and warm. He rises a little, leans over and looks down on his boyfriend. He takes his face in his hands and kisses him, tasting coffee and sunrises and love,(love, love, love) and promises of everything Sol could want, for the rest of his life.