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Wakefulness comes to Bonde slowly, softly; the sounds of animals skittering across dry leaves and the wind blowing through the naked tree branches surrounding their camper gently pull him from his dreamless sleep. Although it’s typical for him to be stirring first - Bonde had learned the hard way that it would take nothing short of an Atom Bomb dropping to wake Dan before he was ready -, something about today feels different.
As Bonde finally cracks open his eyes, he sees why.
The dust swirling through the tiny space is lit up gold and glittering from a singular ray of sun pushing through the crack of one skewed window shade. The whole interior glows with it, a shimmering mist filling the air.
Though he puts on a nonchalant front and cracks jokes at anyone or anything, Bonde really is sentimental at heart and his breath nearly catches in his throat. He doesn't think he's ever seen anything as ethereal, as divine. As hypnotizing.
In the midst of trying to memorize every loop and twirl of the particles before him, Bonde’s eyes are drawn to the dozens of Polaroids taped to the walls, showcasing their journeys through mountains, lakes, cliff sides, deserts, sand dunes, valleys. Others capture their adventures with rock climbing, bungee jumping, scuba diving, parasailing, skydiving. Most of the photos were taken by one of the men holding the camera out as far as possible, others were clearly taken by a random passerby. There are close to forty in total and in almost every single one of them the two men are beaming at each other, their happiness and love pouring through the 2”x4” snapshot. In more than a dozen, they will forever be sharing a kiss in front of gorgeous scenery.
Slowly the light in the cabin creeps across the wall at their feet until it is shining brightly on Bonde’s most treasured set of photos.
The first depicts the pair holding hands on top of a random business’s roof, a Nevada judge in between them and the lights of the Las Vegas Strip sparkling behind all three (leave it to Bonde to sweet talk not only a world hardened judge but also a burly bartender into letting them climb up onto the roof to get the perfect backdrop. He even managed to talk one of the servers up the stairs to take the photos, too). The two men were dressed in the nicest pair of jeans they could each find in the camper, less than crispy button ups tucked into them - black for Dan and white for Bonde. Bonde rolls his eyes fondly at the memory of Dan arguing about not wanting to wear white because that's what girls wore.
The second and third photographs are of each man putting a ring on the other’s left hand in turn, both beaming and grinning foolishly at the other, giddy excitement showing in every line of their faces.
The fourth is of their first married kiss, Bonde dragging Dan down by the back of his neck and Dan holding him close by his waist. It was Bonde’s absolute favorite. Somehow the timing and movement of everyone involved had been just right and the two were silhouetted against the blinding glow of the setting sun, a halo of gilded light surrounded their heads, and the judge was nowhere to be seen.
The fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth photos were taken at a new location, the sidewalk right outside of an all night bakery, and obviously snapped by Dan and his long arms. The first of the four shots is of two vanilla cupcakes iced with brilliant white frosting, topped with tiny golden wedding rings made of fondant. The very next is Dan’s ringed left hand shoving a handful of cupcake straight into Bonde’s unexpecting face - it’s directly followed by Bonde halfway up Dan's back, his own ringed hand reaching around the brunette’s head to smoosh cake and icing into his cheek. The last of the set is of another kiss, the two chest to chest, yellow sponge and buttercream clinging to their skin and hair as they attempted to lock lips through the smiles splitting their faces. It is Bonde’s second favorite.
As the light starts to fade inside the confined space, Bonde’s reminiscing daze is broken and he turns to Daniel, not wanting him to miss the heavenly phenomenon, but he’s stopped from reaching out by a new hypnotizing sight; Dan on his stomach, arms under his pillow to add extra support, his adventure tanned bare shoulders and upper back peeking out from under the covers. His hair - longer from their constant cross country ventures - hangs over his forehead and into his eyes. His lips are slightly parted and endearingly squished against his pillow. The golden haze has made him look godly.
Bonde doesn't think twice before taking the Polaroid from the shelf behind his own head, bringing the viewfinder to his eye, and snapping a photo of his new husband, hoping beyond hope that the blazing dust shows up in the photo.
The click of the shutter has barely faded away as a drowsy voice asks, “Did you just take a picture of me, Mr. Buyeske?” Dan hasn't moved an inch, evidently still trying to catch a few more Zs.
Bonde answers as the new photo starts to color the film in his hand, shimmering mist and all, “I sure did, Mr. Buyeske.”
It's Bonde's new favorite.