Moments

Perchance to Dream

Author's Note: Breaking out of script format for this moment.

***

Sometimes it's the nightmare.

Isak isn't there when Even exits the school and steps into the damp, frigid night. He isn't staring at him with relief, and wonder, and concern, and another emotion Even isn't presumptuous enough to name. Sometimes Even just walks out into the void and lets the darkness swallow him, grateful - at least - that his last words to the boy made of sunshine were of forevers with him.

Tonight, it's the dream.

Isak is curled into his body, his head resting on Even's bicep, their long legs tangled. Tendrils of the fine silk of Isak's hair tickle Even's cheek and he gently brushes them away. He really wants to bury his fingers in all that softness, pull Isak out of slumber with a feverish kiss, but it's late. Or early, depending.

Even has been sleeping more, sleeping better, but he always was a night owl. It's the only time of day he's allowed to let his thoughts run their natural chaotic course. It's when he doesn't have to censor himself. It's when he comes up with his best ideas.

Like following Isak to the Kosegruppa meeting.
Like inviting Isak to the Halloween party.
Like performing a little B&E with Isak so that they could go swimming.
Like realizing he was in love with the boy in his arms.

Elsker deg.

They don't say the words, not ever, and that's alright. Even knows it's in every look, and touch, and sweet, caring gesture that Isak gives him.

Even's not sure what he'll do or say when Isak does decide to cross that line. Because he knows how big it is for him, he can see it in the way Isak trembles when Even stares a little too long. When those words - and more - dance on the edge of his next breath. He swallows them, or paints them on Isak's tongue with his own. That's easier. That's chill.

Unable to help himself, Even brushes a kiss across Isak's forehead and whispers the words into his hair. He's startled to find Isak's eyes open when he pulls back. Frozen, he can only stare. And hope.

Isak tilts his head, a silent request, and Even finds his lips. They're warm from sleep. They taste like forever.