Something Broken, Bruised and Beautiful

In the beginning, it was the two of them sharing a smile that meant very little to anyone who saw it and something else entirely to the two of them. Dec had a lovely smile; a pink tip of tongue barely visible between straight rows of teeth, his eyes ignited with whatever emotion that had drawn the expression across his face.

In the beginning it was the two of them, lying side by side (his flat, not Dec's, because he lived alone). His hair would be a bit on the wild side, every strand out of place as it pressed against the pillow, but Dec would look at him as if they could pretend there was nothing wrong.

But in the beginning, it was the 90s, and no amount of endearing imperfection could hide the glaring prejudice of the world around them.

Dec/Stephen