Lips were looking for each others, trailing behind the other and then stopping the chase and retrieving just as if they were playing an imaginary game of hide and seek, even though none of them wanted not to be found in the end. Far from it. Because in those moments when they finally met, in those precious seconds when they seemed to become as one, small fireworks bolted from that meeting: those were sparks that never fade out but multiplied in every nerves as they created fires that would never burn out.
Brian's hands were fastened around Nick’s back, his fingers drew tracks and designs on the skin still hidden under the fabric of the sweater. Up and down, his hands took more and more awareness of the chills that were spreading in Nick’s body after every step. Nick’s hands, however, were placed on Brian’s sides, where the edge of the sweater and T-shirt had been raised so as to be in direct contact with the skin. Even if they were still and not moving at all, his fingertips touched and caressed every inch and followed the boundaries of the muscles and always stopped a few millimeters above the barrier of jeans. Brian, every time, arched his back, trying to undo that last barrier between them and every time Nick responded with a more passionate kiss or nibbling one of those points that he knew that would made his lover tremble even more.
Their names were whispered in gasps, as if the air was no longer so vitally necessary for them. And it was so because it wasn’t the oxygen running in their veins or arteries trying to reach their lungs. No, it was their smell, their breath and their moans that were taking the stage and attention inside them and nothing could prompt them to break away from each other, even for the few seconds it would take to move from the corridor to the bedroom.
Without even knowing how, they found themselves on the bed, two naked bodies searching for the last of contacts so that they could still feel united again, while a trail of clothes retraced their route. No longer real time had its own flow, as if the room had been incased in a bubble that had its own time and space and everything seemed to have stopped moving: the falling snow and the sounds of traffic below them. Also the lights seemed to have ceased to enlighten, because they weren’t needed when all they needed was looking into their lover’s eyes so they could find themselves immersed in a light that lived just for them, flashes of color that spoke of a desire and an ecstasy that nothing and no one else would been able to make them taste.
The only sound they could hear was the rhythm of their hearts that got more and more furious as their bodies started to dance along with that rhythm. Any doubts that still resided in the soul of Nick disappeared when Brian became a part of himself: everything was so natural, and that was the way it had always should be: one body and a single heart beating furiously to the rhythm of their love. Within that body, Nick didn’t know what that resentment that sometimes returned to the surface was and the only thing he wanted was to remain there, where nothing mattered but their love. Forever.
****
The morning began to sneak between the curtains drawn, letting a few rays of light; Nick looked at them as they preferred to sit back and let themselves be taken by those few patches of bare skin that escaped from the hiding offered by the blanket that covered most of Brian’s body.
Some tufts, blonde curls that had be formed during that night, protected the still half-closed eyes, as if they wanted to be a protection of dreams that Nick had hoped were joyful images of a future that had yet to announce its presence, but that didn’t seem to be so uncertain and so far away anymore.
The breath, calm in its slow pace, evaporated from Brian’s mouth slightly opened and Nick couldn’t stop himself as his lips rested on them, breaking away before he could awaken. No, he didn’t want to wake Brian because he loved watching him, especially in those precious moments when the boy was still asleep and his face was finally emptied and free from any sign of worry or doubt. That look so innocent so jarred with what was well etched in his mind from the night before: that face and soul held so many shades and expression that Nick doubted he could ever reach the day when he would have known all of them by heart. So when a new expression made his appearance, Nick studied it over and over again, exactly as he would have done in front of a painting. Because the simplest truth was that Brian was his most valuable and precious treasure.
Nick clung to him, resting his head on his chest. Even if he remained still asleep, Brian put his arm around Nick's shoulders, squeezing even more to him. When he was with Brian, when he was inside of him, it was so natural to believe that every scar had been soothed and then healed. It was enough to look into his eyes to see himself reflected in an ocean of love that sometimes it was hard for Nick to believe that it was all for him. But then, in the real world, nothing seemed so clear: the clouds continued to remain in a corner, waiting for the moment when he would be defenseless to protect himself from the attacks of those doubts. No, that bitterness that he didn’t know where it was born and where it got the strength to grow, always appeared when he thought how much less scary it was Europe and leaving Brian behind, especially given all the changes that each day he was a witness of. And, perhaps, it was this that was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth because Brian had been able to throw everything behind him, still convinced that he could rebuild what had been between, while he still wavered between forget and keep intertwined that wound. It was a vicious circle, because now he wanted nothing more than to forget that he had even thought those words, so unjust towards Brian.
Nick’s lips returned to lean on Brian’s while his hands slipped inside the cover, pushing away that next layer of clothes that were an obstacle between their two bodies. A groan of pleasure, the tremors in his hands. Brian tried to ask what was happening but Nick didn’t give him air to answer. He didn’t want to talk, much less even think about it. Nick just wanted to love his most precious and valuable painting.
