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It had been a truly sublime evening. An amiable dinner; Surprise gliding steady over the waves like an albatross, and a nearly virtuoso performance on violin and cello, the two friends in perfect synchronicity. In a burst of exuberance, Jack seized Stephen’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. Then, following a sudden whim that arose he knew not where, he brought the hand to his lips and pressed them to the palm, tongue darting out to taste the warm, slightly roughened skin.
All at once there seemed to be no air in the room. Time itself seemed to freeze. Jack felt that, were he able to see the half-hour glass, the grains of sand would be suspended motionless within. He searched his friend’s face; inscrutable light grey eyes held his gaze, lips slightly parted. Jack felt crimson blooming upon his cheeks, and he noted dazedly an answering flush on Stephen’s face: two spots of high color appearing on his sharp cheekbones. “I…” he started, but words failed him. His heart clenched within his chest, then started pounding so that he was sure his friend could hear it. He was still clutching Stephen’s hand near his own face, now desperately, like that of a drowning man he had pulled from the sea.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Stephen’s other hand came up and gently traced his cheek, his jaw, leaving a trail of heat over his skin. The hand trembled slightly as it caressed his face. The pale eyes seemed to glow, the intense gaze never leaving his own. “Joy,” Stephen murmured. “Acushla .” He stepped closer. Jack could feel the heat of his breath, smell the faintly intoxicating mix of tobacco and Madeira. Jack drew in a shaky breath. “S-Stephen—“ He hadn’t really known what he was going to say, but it mattered not: he was silenced by surprisingly soft lips touching his own. Jack gasped, but did not pull away. Stephen’s hand was now stroking his hair. Taking advantage of the gasp, his tongue had darted into Jack’s mouth, exploring. Jack felt warmth blossoming in his chest, moving low into his belly. He wrapped his arms around Stephen, clutching at him, pulling him close. He could feel his friend’s heart beating rapidly, like one of his beloved birds.
When they finally broke for air Jack found himself nearly incapable of forming words. The feel, the taste of his dearest friend—he had never imagined— a strangled “Oh! Oh, soul,” was all he could manage. Stephen’s lips curved into a smile as he gazed with deepest affection at his particular friend, his dear heart, his soulmate; his feelings reflected, reciprocated in Jack’s shining azure eyes.