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There was a whisper of sheets, loud in the silent room. The curtains had been almost closed, drawn just enough to let a wide slither of sunlight in, the blue glow of a dim early morning.
It ran across the bottom of the bed but they could still see clearly enough in the darkness. Carlisle was looking at Jamie, on their sides and facing each other. Jamie's head was resting on a pillow, the others lost from the bed during the night. There was a hand lain across his temple, heavy and comforting as fingers played with his hair.
They had said all that they needed and sighed whatever else. At first it had been strange to Jamie, uncomfortable to be bare and open beneath eyes that knew and saw through him entirely. He had never been intimate with the intent of connection, only as a way to quell his body and to be able to say that he had. With Carlisle it was like his first time; uncertain, gentle but desperate enough to feel the thrill of it.
It had been embarrassing at the start but Carlisle took his face in his hands and kissed him, lips reassuring. He was something familiar to grasp, arms holding him in a warmth that was leeched from their skin but still managed to bloom between them. Laying entangled in the sheets Jamie imagined if they were human, the flush of colour to their cheeks and the heat of their breath. He wondered if they would even be together if they were still living; if the kind doctor would have given him a chance, or if Jamie himself would have wanted to peel down the barrier between him and the world and reach out to the man with the selfless eyes. Maybe it would have been too much, too little to go through together for something as significant as now.
"What are you thinking about?" asked Carlisle. His hand flattened largely across Jamie's cheek, thumb caressing in pleasant circles.
"Life," Jamie answered and something mournful fell silently over Carlisle's face. Jamie reached out to him, fingers trying to rub away the regret from around his eyes. He leaned forward and Carlisle's hand went easily to the back of his head. Their lips fitted delicately together and this time it was Jamie who was reassuring.
"Are you happy?" he whispered against Carlisle's mouth.
"Yes," he replied just as quietly. "Are you?"
"Here and with you, yes I feel happiness." It was the first time he'd felt it in a long while, even since before his heart had stilled. It went beyond acceptance of death and the difficult afterlife. He had lost things precious to him, wallowed and spat and even still the sting was fresh, but Jamie had found something that he never had in life. The belonging was not instantaneous or easy but a creeping security and familiarity that bled through him before he realised the warmth of it; sticking his feet to the ground amongst the family.
He felt firm and strong beside them, and with Carlisle it was a terrifying but welcomed vulnerability. Jamie didn't have to say it for Carlisle to know. He could see it in his actions, in his face and eyes and it was that understanding that tethered Jamie to him so devoutly.
