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Dinner had been simple: pasta with fresh tomato sauce, a touch of basil, Parmesan cheese, and freshly baked bread that Kimi had bought that afternoon, anticipating their arrival. Ollie had looked at him as if he'd just been lowered from heaven on a silk rope.
"Did you cook for me?" he asked, his voice laced with that mixture of wonder and tenderness that always managed to soften Kimi's heart.
"No. I cooked for me, and you were lucky to arrive just in time," he replied, unable to hide the crooked smile that escaped him whenever Ollie looked at him like that.
But the truth was in the details: the spread of the tablecloth, the lit candles on the table, the dessert carefully stored in the fridge. All of it was for him. For that boy with the huge eyes and restless hands who was now clumsily clearing the plates, trying to be helpful despite Kimi gently pushing him back onto the sofa with each attempt.
"You're on break. And when you're on break, you belong to me. To me, the sofa, and the blanket. So sit down. Or better yet, lie down. I'll be there in a minute."
And Ollie had done just that. He'd curled up between the cushions, one of the wool blankets draped over his legs, his hair still slightly damp, falling in soft waves over his forehead.
When Kimi finished tidying the kitchen, he turned off all the lights except one: the one in the corner. The one they always left on when they wanted the evening to feel intimate, as if the world outside didn't exist. He walked over to the couch and sat on its edge, elbows on his knees, silently watching Ollie for a moment. He was completely exhausted, but his eyes sparkled with mischief when he looked up at him.
"You know," the Brit began, biting his lower lip. "I like seeing you like this. All calm. With that 'I've earned my peace' look on your face."
"I only have peace when you're here," he replied without thinking. His voice came out low, deep, laced with an honesty he didn't always know how to express.
Ollie sat up a little, letting the blanket slide over his body, revealing Kimi's old T-shirt, which he now wore as pajamas, mid-thigh length. Kimi recognized it instantly, and the smile slipped away.
"You stole that one," he said.
"No. You gave it to me without realizing it," he replied, getting up from his knees on the sofa to get closer. "I found it one morning on top of your suitcase, and it smelled like you. How could I resist?"
Kimi wrapped his arms around his waist when he was close, resting his forehead against his chest. He let him hug him. He did it with the affectionate awkwardness of someone who has learned to give everything when they love.
"You're so warm..." Ollie murmured, running his fingers along the back of his neck, through his curly hair.
Kimi didn't respond with words. He leaned back, pulling him along until Ollie was sitting on his lap, his legs on either side of his hips. The contact was gentle but direct. Skin against skin under the thin fabric, their breathing even, and that dull tingle that crept up their spines like an ancient murmur.
"Do you want to sleep now?" Kimi asked, but the way his hands moved up Ollie's thighs said otherwise.
"No," he whispered, lowering his gaze, a secretive smile spreading across his face. "I want to be with you. Not just sleep."
The Italian lifted a hand and caressed his cheek, his thumb slowly tracing the line of his cheekbone.
"Like this?" he asked, pulling him slightly closer by the hips so his boyfriend could feel how he held him, strong, solid, his anchor.
Ollie closed his eyes and nodded.
"That's fine," he murmured. "It doesn't have to be any more. I just... want to feel you."
"You have me," he said, before pulling him by the back of his neck and kissing his jaw, a barely moist touch that slid down his neck. "For a long time, amore. And for much longer."
The air thickened, as if the heat of each other's bodies was enough to liquefy the atmosphere. Ollie moved slowly on his lap, not seeking immediate sex, but closeness. The light brush of his hips against Kimi's was an intimate dance, a back-and-forth that spoke of how well they knew each other, how much they desired each other without any urgency.
"You've got that look again," Kimi whispered against his ear. "The one you get when you're about to say something very nice or very indecent."
"What if it's both?"
"Then tell me now, amore."
Ollie lowered his gaze and let out a nervous chuckle.
"Sometimes I think we could stay like this all night. Doing nothing. Just breathing together, feeling each other. And it feels more intimate than anything."
Kimi looked at him for a long moment. Then he kissed him. A slow, tender, deep kiss. The kind you feel in your stomach, the kind that makes you want to close your eyes and memorize the moment.
"Anything with you is the most intimate thing we can do, whatever you let me have," he murmured against his lips. "I don't need more."
Ollie sighed, exhausted, and snuggled even closer against his chest. Kimi wrapped his arms around him, stroked his back through the stolen T-shirt, and rested his chin on his head.
“Stay there.”
And so, under the blanket, with the world reduced to the other's heartbeat, they were lost in silence. The sofa creaked softly under their weight, the clock on the wall ticked away, but they were no longer there. They were in that corner of time where true love feels like a warm home in the middle of winter.
The light timidly entered through the crack in the loosely closed blinds. It was that soft, golden kind that didn't bother the eyes, but rather caressed the skin as if the sun knew it couldn't interrupt, only silently observe.
The room smelled of clean sheets, warm skin, that sweet scent of Ollie's that always lingered on the pillows as if it wanted to slowly colonize the bed. And Kimi didn't complain. Not one bit.
He woke up before Ollie, as he almost always did. Not out of habit, but because his body had a radar that alerted him to the slightest change in his boyfriend's. The deep sigh Ollie let out when he shifted between the sheets was enough for Kimi to open his eyes, barely tilting his face to look at him better.
The older one was tangled in the blankets, half covered, half uncovered, with one leg crossing his and one hand resting on his chest, as if he needed to touch him even while asleep. His hair was a charming mess, his lips parted in a deep sleep expression, and the shirt—his own—had ridden up just enough to reveal a portion of the soft, warm belly that Kimi loved to kiss when they were alone.
He smiled, slowly, without moving. For a moment, he simply gazed at him. As if the world were a beautiful painting painted just for him.
"You know you snore when you're exhausted?" he whispered, not waiting for a reply.
Ollie didn't move, but his body did show signs of waking up. A small movement of his fingers on his chest, a light sigh, a slow blink.
"Are you saying that to annoy me or because you think it's charming?" the Brit murmured, his eyes still closed, his voice still sleepy, fluffy like soft wool.
"Both," he replied, placing a hand on his back, stroking it slowly. "It's like you're reassuring yourself that I'm still here, even when you're sleeping. I like it. It's like a purr."
Ollie hid his face against his neck, still lacking the strength to sit up. He snuggled closer, if that was possible, like a cat seeking warmth.
"You're so sweet in the mornings," he whispered.
"With you. Only with you."
"What if I told you I want to stay like this all day?"
"I would tell you that I've already canceled my imaginary plans," Kimi murmured, placing a slow kiss on his forehead. "You're my full schedule today."
Ollie laughed softly. The way that made Kimi's chest fill. Then he raised his head, barely raising his torso to be level with his face. His eyes were still glistening with sleep, but his smile was pure light.
"I'm hungry," he said. "But I also want to keep cuddling with you. What do we do?"
"Options," Kimi said, pretending to think it over seriously. "One, I bring you breakfast in bed. Two, we make it together, you in that stolen shirt and me watching you steal my juice. Three, we don't eat breakfast and you let me keep touching your back like this."
"What if I want everything?"
Kimi laughed and bit his cheek gently, right where he knew Ollie melted.
"Greedy."
"Loving," Ollie corrected, sinking back onto his chest. "I have so much love pent up. I miss you when we're apart."
"I miss you more," he whispered, stroking the back of his neck with his fingers. "Even if I don't say it. Even if I don't show it. When you're not here, I feel like I'm gasping for air."
"I'm here now."
"And I'm going to take advantage of it."
Kimi's hand moved down his back, slowly, to the curve of his waist. It wasn't a lascivious gesture; it was a deep, possessive caress, rooted in love. Ollie sighed and raised his face to look at him.
"Tell me you love me again," he asked softly.
Kimi didn't hesitate. He held his face in his hands, caressing it with his thumbs as if it were fragile and precious. It was.
"I love you, Ollie. I love you most when you're like this, in my bed, with your cheeks flushed and your heart beating slowly. I love you when you stumble over your words, when you hug me in public without caring who's looking, when you say 'thank you' for things you don't need to be thankful for. I love you for everything you are, even when you're silent and sad. Especially then."
Ollie's eyes moistened slightly, but he didn't cry. He just leaned toward him and kissed him with a tenderness that felt like a soft promise.
"You're my home," he murmured against his lips. "I always come back to you."
Kimi wrapped his arms around him and held him close.
"And I'm staying," he whispered in his ear. "So you never have to be alone."
The morning continued there, advancing slowly, without hurrying them. The sheets wrinkled more, the words turned into kisses, and the world outside couldn't creep into that corner of tenderness.
They were all they needed. Each other.