thirty-two
"Quos amor verus tenuit, tenebit."
INTIMACY
———
When Henry stepped into Oakwood Academy for Boys, returned from the holidays, he had one goal in mind. Find Roy, he thought. Find Roy and stop being a coward.
Because Henry Clover was tired of being a coward.
He found him alone in the art classroom, hunched over his desk, twisting a pencil between his slender fingers. His lip was bit in concentration, lips turned downward into a subtle frown, eyes scanning the empty sketchbook. A single strand of hair hung over his forehead.
At the sound of the door clicking shut, he glanced up in surprise, but when Roy saw who it was, a slow smile graced his lips. "Lover boy," he said.
Henry took a step forward. "What is this?" he asked. "What is this between us, Roy?"
He paused. "What do you mean?"
"The flirting," he replied. "The accidental touches. The gazes that last a second too long."
"Henry—"
Again, his name. It set Henry's skin alight, tingles racing down his arms. "Is it real?"
Roy smiled softly, rose from his seat and walked toward him. "I don't think I've ever felt anything more real."
"And what is this?"
"What do you want it to be?"
"I—" Henry was lost for words. He had no idea how to pull the feeling simmering in his chest out his mouth, how to form it into comprehensible words. "I don't know. But I'm tired of not knowing, and I want to know. I need to know."
He took a step closer, so that they were standing mere inches apart. His head swum, drunk on their proximity, the energy burning between them. "What can I do?"
Henry looked up at him through his eyelashes. "Kiss me."
Roy lifted his hand, placed his fingers at the nape of Henry's neck, sending shivers down his spine. "You're positive?" he asked. "Because you don't know how long I've been waiting to do this, Henry Clover—"
Henry kissed Roy.
It must of caught him off guard, but a second later, Roy's fingers spread across his neck, the other falling around his waist, as their lips crashed together. He switched them around, pressing Henry against the wall, and kissed him harder.
He smells like paint, thought Henry, and then nearly every other thought slipped his mind. There was only Roy. There was only his lips against his, his fingers on his skin, his beating heart.
He pressed himself against him, and the kiss turned messy and they couldn't get any closer no matter how hard they tried, but the time spent waiting, waiting for this had made them hungry.
Henry pulled away for air, and Roy smiled, laughing.
"Henry Clover," he said. "You little—"
"Oh, shut up and kiss me," he said.
"Lover boy," whispered Roy. "You are everything I imagined and more."
———
Lucien gripped the letter between his hands like it was a death note, like the people in the hallway could read through the envelope and see his heart laid bare, see his confession of love to William. He climbed the stairs slowly.
He was pretty sure he had been the last student to arrive at Oakwood Academy. Lucien had arrived just under an hour ago, and it was already half past ten in the evening. They had class tomorrow morning. The thought made him feel ill, but he pushed forward, hovering in front of William's door.
He took a deep breath. If he could face Briar Harding and survive, he could do anything.
Lucien knocked.
Three seconds later, the door swung open, and William Brown smiled.
"Well, well, well," he said. "If it isn't the golden boy himself."
He rolled his eyes, stepping into the familiar room. It was dark, only one lamp lit, creating a mellow atmosphere. An intimate one. Lucien gripped the letter tighter, his nerves growing. What if he didn't write one? What if he thinks it's silly?
William pulled a folded piece of parchment from his pocket. He looked different from the last time Lucien had seen him, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. It'd been an entire month, but he still had the same messy dark hair, the same crooked grin, the same daring gaze. But he looked... happier.
William Brown looked at peace.
For a second, he looked nervous, a soft pink gracing William's cheeks. "Don't make fun of it," he said, holding out a ink-smudged letter.
It was so entirely him, Lucien almost laughed. Instead, he traded letters and sat with him on the bed, their knees inches apart. How strange, that the space between them still set Lucien's heart racing.
They read in silence.
Lucien blushed.
Their gazes locked.
"Lucien," he breathed. "This is beautiful. I don't—I don't know what to say to show you how much—how much this means to me."
To see William at a loss for words, made Lucien grin. "You're blushing."
He arched a dark brow. "Oh, don't tempt me," he said. "I will—"
"You'll what?" drawled Lucien.
A dare.
William's lips curved into his infamous smirk, one that reminded Lucien of when they first met, all those years ago. He liked it.
When their lips met, his eyes closed. They were sweet and safe, and William's arms draped around his waist, his touch enough to bend any man to his knees. Even the stars above were envious.
"Lucien," he whispered.
He breathed in the sound of his name on William's lips, breathing it into his lungs and into his heart, where it settled there, content.
"I love you," said William. "God, Lucien, I love you so much."
"I love you, too."
The words felt more real, more permanent spoken out loud, and Lucien Harding had never felt so happy in his entire life. He recalled William's letter, smiling.
And in your arms, darling, I know there is no place I would rather be.
Lucien Harding couldn't agree more.
———
Surprise, I wrote another chapter. I think I'm going to write one more tomorrow, officially ending this story. There will be an end note, too, but I just want to say thank you for sticking around this far.
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He Bleeds Flame ✔️
Romance(bxb) After a year of surviving an all boys boarding school, William Brown thought he had finally navigated the ups and downs that the rich, private school had to offer. He'd even managed to make a few friends, as well as a rightful enemy. Lucien Ha...
