Work Text:
Most nights were peaceful, and Asa and Anthony Crowley-Fell slept in each other’s arms. Occasionally, though, Anthony shook and whispered, clinging desperately to his husband like he might slip away if he let go.
They could be a kilometer away or a thousand, a year or a decade past it, but the sight of a bookshop going up in smoke haunted Anthony. That day, when their marriage had been so new, when he thought he’d already lost the love of his life; that day he ran into the flames and found nothing but burning books— it burned on its own into his subconscious mind, the flames rising and burning his skull just from the memory.
Anthony had never really liked being alone— he’d spent most of his life living with another person or spending all his time teaching and tutoring for the community of it— but with Asa, he wished he could become a snake and just wind around his love. He would gently circle him, feel the warmth of his skin and the pulsing rhythm of his heartbeat, squeeze just enough that they’d never come apart.
On these nights, though, when the memories of flames and the smell of burnt paper and ink were strongest, Anthony was devastatingly human. Still, the men intertwined as if serpents. Asa would wake Anthony from his nightmares with gentle kisses, and Anthony would curl against his partner’s broad chest and breathe slow and deep, taking in and memorizing Asa’s black tea scent.
Asa whispers reminders to his beau between kisses pressed to the top of his head: he’s safe, they’re together. The smoke never took him, he wouldn’t let anything steal him from this earth without Anthony by his side. No fire would tear them apart, he whispered, he’d never leave Anthony alone.