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Kieren wipes the mousse off his face until his handkerchief is stained tan and unusable, and then he uses his hands, swipes his thumb under Simon's right eye, unbearably gentle. Simon imagines the featherlight pressure of Kieren's fingertips framing his face, the most he's touched Simon so far, and aches with the lack of feeling.
"Your eyes," Kieren murmurs.
Simon wants to follow his lead, to pluck out his contacts and let them fall where they may, but his brain kicks in long enough to make him pause. They're his only pair; he might need them.
The only thing worse than not feeling Kieren's hands on him is pulling away from him, even if it's only to take two steps to the bathroom, to carefully lay his contacts in their container. He takes the towel from the hanger and wets it, brings it back to Kieren, who's still staring at him with his wide, beautiful eyes, who takes the towel and uses it to clean a spot under Simon's jaw, tilting his chin up with his gentle hands.
He smiles, a little, looking at Simon. Breathes out slow and says, "There you are," like it's a relief.
It nearly knocks Simon off his feet.
Before he can wrangle a thought, cobble together a single word to say, Kieren looks down, away. He unfolds the towel in his hands and drags it across his own face, uneven lines of white skin shining in the light. He makes two more passes, practiced motions that still leave smears of mousse behind. He holds out the towel to Simon, tilts his face up, so determined, so trusting.
The First Risen, turning to Simon, letting him witness a revelation.
Kieren Walker, looking at Simon like he wants to keep looking.
Simon takes the towel, finds a clean spot, wipes the rest of the coverup from Kieren's face. He unsticks the hair from Kieren's forehead, hand drifting to the side of Kieren's neck. "Beautiful," he says. Can't help saying.
Kieren blinks once, twice, unreadable up to the moment he kisses Simon, pulls him close by the front of his shirt and doesn't let go. As if there were anywhere Simon would rather be.
It's long dark by the time Kieren stirs. "I have to go home," he says. "My dad…"
He trails off and doesn't pick it back up, furrowed eyebrows visible in the light from the bathroom as he pulls away from Simon.
"Okay," Simon says, getting up with him, handing him his coat. Kieren keeps frowning as he puts it on, shooting the look at Simon over his shoulder when he follows him to the front door. Simon quirks a smile back. "Making sure you didn't get lost on your way out."
It cracks the unhappiness in Kieren's expression, an eye roll that makes Simon want to keep saying stupid things. Anything, he thinks.
"Thanks," Kieren says, dry, and opens the door. He pauses on the doorstep, leaning his whole torso back to look at the sky. There are snowflakes in his eyelashes when he turns to Simon again. "See you tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," he says, and Kieren nods. Simon watches him disappear into the dark, hood up, head down. Waits until he's gone far enough not to notice Simon leaving the bungalow, walking the opposite direction down the road to the telephone box.
"I've found the First Risen," he says to the quiet line. Turns the direction Kieren walked home. "You should see him. He's beautiful."