Chapter Text
He cleans once Cassidy is asleep, pulling himself free from tangled sweat-soaked blankets. He looks peaceful for a moment as the moon filters through the boarded window and caresses his face.
He’s tempted to curl himself back up into the man’s arms. For them to both wake in the morning half dressed and tangled in each others embrace. Someone will have to clean, he thinks before he stands. It’s easier to go on without any evidence of stolen moments in the dark.
Andres collects the long strip of linen that lies discarded on the floor in their haste. He spares Cassidy a glance as he shifts in their bed. The moon provides enough light to see his reflection in the cracked mirror that hangs on the wall.
He’d do anything to stop it. To hold the moon still in the sky, take it from the heavens and hide it away, just so the morning doesn’t bring Cassidy’s sharp edges with it.
Andres looks at himself in the mirror. Cassidy’s love is a desperate, thrashing thing- leaving crescent indentations of nails, leaving lips kiss-bruised, leaving evidence of crooked teeth on his shoulder. His love is not unlike the wild beasts he wrangles in.
He turns to the side, one arm holding down his chest as he starts to wrap the linen tightly around himself. The first few wraps hurt, stealing his breath away as always. Gritting his teeth as he watches the offending flesh become flatter. He runs a hand over the fabric as he stares at himself.
Cassidy has become the only one besides himself he lets touch the skin beneath. He’s aware of the weakness he’s allowing himself to show to the man but in their room, its one he’s more than willing to share. He’ll let Cassidy run his hands over him forever more if it means he won’t leave.
Andres touches a faint purple bruise on his neck, left by a demanding mouth. Faint sparks of pain radiate through it as he presses down. It’s real, left by the man he’s too afraid to love. He could weep at the thought.
He curls back onto the bed once he’s finished. He lets himself stare a moment too long at Cassidy. Moonlight paints him finer than any painting hung back home- highlighting the broken and mended curve of his nose, the curve of his collarbone and the dip of his navel.
Andres allows himself closer besides the older man. He tucks himself under his arm, sweat-damp hair brushing against Cassidy’s arm. He brings Cassidy’s hand to his chest, intertwining their fingers together in the darkened room.
He leans in, hesitating for the briefest of moments, lips a hairs-breath away from the curve of Cassidy’s turned neck. If he’s denied their love in the morning, he’ll be greedy in a different way. He presses greedy, desperate kisses to his neck and drinks in every touch of his lips against freckled skin. One for every sunrise.
He caresses his ring finger with his own. Another thing he’s denied. A part of him wonders if Cassidy would give this all up- if he’d give this all up- just to put a ring on his finger and claim him before the world as his.
Andres doesn’t remember when he starts to cry. Wet tears leave a slight sheen under the moonlight as he leaves them on Cassidy’s skin. The older man shifts in the cocoon of tangled blankets. He rests his forehead against Cassidy’s moistened shoulder and lets his eyes close. Tears soak their skin in the wash of moonlight.
Come morning, he’ll wake before Cassidy. Ratty sheets will be washed and he’ll be dressed to hide any indication of love. The dawn will bring his own harsh edges into the light. Biting words and bruised egos that make up their conversations.
He’s selfish. The fact burns within his mind as his lips press against the corner of Cassidy’s.
Damn it all, but he’d give the world for this man.
He’d brave whatever fire awaits him after death if it meant he got to love him in this life.
Andres brings Cassidy's hand to his lips. He kisses each joint of his knuckles, kisses his wrist, his arm. He wonders if he hates him just as much as he loves him.
His face falls back against the older man’s shoulder. His tears dry against his cheeks.
Cassidy’s scent fills his lungs, and he lets sleep take him.
They have time. Someday, with all his delicacy he can muster, he’ll hold him close.