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There's a lot of things Ryan likes about Naim.
He likes his smile, for starters. A row of pearly teeth shining under the moonlight, more blinding than anything else Ryan has seen before. He likes his messy hair, the dark brown kaleidoscopic strands sticking out of his head in makeshift horns on top of his boyfriend's head, that makes Naim's hair look like it has life of its own. He likes his back, wide enough to carry Ryan’s worries over it, always the first one to reach out despite Ryan's silence. He likes his laugh, a silver string tied to Ryan's heart that he could follow even in the dark. He likes his voice, the twinkle iridescent of his sharp tongue sending shivers down Ryan's spine with his sweet words. He likes his palms, his hands, how they're slightly smaller than Ryan's own and the warmth of his fingerprints, touching every part they can reach of Ryan.
Ryan likes Naim, point and final. A page turning to welcome another, a new chapter of his every day routine that he gets to spend with his favorite person in the whole world. His life besides Naim is sticky, sweet and dreamy, dripping honey over his eyes and washing the rest of the colors away to make it stay in shades of yellow, bright neon, hues of gold.
But what Ryan likes the most about Naim is his mouth.
Always blaring hot to the touch, leaving little fires in his wake. One kiss placed over Ryan's shoulder, a path of a wet trail of kisses dragging across his left rib —and another kiss, shy and inviting, placed above Ryan's navel. Naim’s laughter is a never ending song traveling through the wind for every awakened desire inside Ryan. Another kiss and another and another and another and another until there's nothing more to kiss but Ryan's twin scars, a constant reminder that this is who he is now. A truth unrevealed under the right hands, the right boy.
(A kiss over his heart, a reminder that he's loved for being truthful to himself. "As a treat," Naim would say after placing the last kiss, eyes clear. "My gift for you.")
Naim is real, solid and beautiful in front of him, under Ryan's hands and he doesn't even hesitate to kiss Ryan back when he gets his mouth on his, one scorching hot, the other earthy and wet, full of petals from uncurled flowers, an unscathed garden created only for them that now resides inside Ryan's lungs, too. A constant reminder for Naim that Ryan's love for him weighs as much as the Earth does.
It changes and it grows, it morphs and it blooms, only for Naim. Always for Naim.
Naim's gaze is the star gazebo that surrounds their room, a constant reminder that a part of the universe resides inside him, too. "I like your chest," Naim murmurs, because of course. There's also things that Naim likes about Ryan. He follows the lines of Ryan’s twin scars with his forefinger, awe bleeding into his every word. "Well, I like you, I suppose that liking your chest is an understatement."
Ryan hums, observing the way that Naim's lashes flutter like butterfly wings at the sound before flying away. "Well, I love you," he says, teasing because that way he can watch a pretty rosy blush spread over Naim's cheeks and feel the heat underneath his palms. "I suppose that liking you is an understatement."
Naim rolls his eyes, two white dotted gems showing themselves briefly for Ryan amusement. "I love you," Naim replies without second guessing, there isn't sarcasm in his tone. He's gentle, real, astounding. "And even that is an understatement."
Ryan smiles, he really loves the blush that tints Naim's ears at his own words, a constant reminder that Ryan is doing a good job at loving him, too. "Yeah, you could say that."