Gypsy

Aslan shivered; he missed Liam most on nights like this. The cold air seemed to soak through his bones, making his body tremble in an attempt to warm itself. He sat on the roof of his apartment building, watching the stars, allowing his mind—for the first time in ages—to think about him.

Aslan remembered every line and contour of his face, as he had traced them many times with gentle lips and fingers. He could remember exactly how Liam's long, dark, hair fell through his fingers like liquid, shining in the light of the moon. It had been so long since he had felt Liam's warmth beside him, surrounding him, and soothing him like nothing else ever could.

But he was gone now. He had a way of leaving, following the wind. Aslan guessed it was the gypsy in him, the wild, free, and proud blood that drove him on.

"You'll catch cold." A voice Aslan knew very well sounded behind him.

"Liam?" Aslan bolted to a rigid position, his mouth agape.

Liam flashed his bright, wide, smile and sat down beside him, leaning back on strong, dark hands.

"Where have you been?" Aslan asked quietly, his eyes finding the stars again.

"All over." Liam replied, making Aslan wonder how often they had this conversation.

"You were gone longer this time." A clear, almost defeated statement.

"Did you miss me?" Liam turned his head to grin at the pale man beside him.

"You know I always do. When will you leave again?" His voice was pained.

"When the winds change." He moved his hand and laced his fingers with Aslan's; cinnamon against ivory.

Aslan leaned into Liam and felt his broad arm wrap around his shoulders. He knew better than to ask if Liam had missed him.

"The stars are dancing tonight." Liam commented.

"How do you know?" Aslan pulled away to look Liam in the face. It was rich, sculpted, and wise.

Liam didn't reply; he just looked him in the eye, fire melting the ice blue of Aslan's. One extremely warm hand rose and cupped the pale cheek in his palm.

"Have you been with any others since I left?" Liam's words were low, but not dangerous.

Aslan's eyes fell away from Liam's and he sighed.

"Always hoping." Liam murmured, stroking a wide thumb over the cool flesh of Aslan's face.

"More like living in denial." Aslan stood up, moving away from the god-like man and towards the edge of the building. He looked down over the city, the lights, and the noises.

"I never mean to hurt you."

Those words hurt more than Aslan was sure Liam could ever comprehend.

"I don't think I could let you go again." He managed to choke out.

"You can't fight the winds." Liam replied, leaning back onto his hands again. The muscles rippled under the constraints of the tight white shirt. His hair fell to his waist, glossy and soft.

"No. But you can."

"Aslan…we've been through this before…"

"I love you." Aslan blurted it out, he spun around, tears in his eyes.

"Aslan, don't." Liam sat up and then lowered his head into his hands. His hair fell as a curtain around him.

"Is there someone else you go to?"

"Don't drive yourself mad." Liam stood up and moved towards Aslan, who was trembling.

"You are driving me mad." Aslan replied, sucking in a breath.

"I told you this is how it would be." He reached out and grasped one of Aslan's hands.

"Why can't I forget you?" Aslan's voice was choked. He felt his eyes welling at he looked up at Liam.

"Would you really want to?" With a flick of his wrist he drew Aslan closer.

Aslan squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into the tower that was Liam, his fists resting against the cloth-restricted chest that he loved so much. A few tears leaked through his closed lashes, leaving little prints on the white of Liam's shirt.

"Take me to bed." Aslan murmured, his voice thin.

Aslan was small and almost fragile, his skin so white you could almost see all of the veins underneath. Liam lifted him into his arms easily, his broad arms cradling him and carrying him through the small door and down the stairs. The door wasn't locked. Aslan had gotten into the habit of leaving it that way in case Liam returned.

The small apartment was black, but Liam found his way into the bedroom. The room was spotless and the bed was made perfectly. Aslan was set on the bed and then Liam leaned over, his lips brushing over Aslan's forehead.

Aslan grasped feebly at Liam's large hand, pulling him onto the bed beside him. A pale shaft of moonlight made its way through the windows and as Liam shifted, it danced over his face.

Aslan sat and stared at his face for a long time before he leaned forwards and kissed him. It was soft and pure. Liam barely responded, but moved his fingers up under Aslan's shirt, peeling it upwards and over his head. He ran his chocolate hand over the milky flesh of Aslan's chest, resting it on his neck.

Liam moved closer and kissed his neck, tracing his tongue over the area his hand had just rested. He rolled himself so he braced over top of Aslan and then kissed his way up to his chin. He hovered over Aslan, watching him.

"Why do you even come back?" Aslan murmured, lifting a hand to run his finger tips over Liam's face. "Why me?"

"Shh." Liam pressed his lips to Aslan's, kissing him slowly. The next kiss was fierier.

Aslan moved his hand up Liam's back and under his shirt, moving it up him and over his head. His hands came to rest on the muscular chest, his fingers working in circles.

Liam sucked on the hollow of his neck, drawing a small, almost inaudible gasp from Aslan.

They rolled, twined, perfect; yin and yang, good and evil, perfectly combined—the perfect recipe. Mixing, blending, feeling, urging, needing.

In the end they lay folded together, Aslan bowing into sleep and Liam watching him with sad eyes. He knew he would leave in the morning. He knew Aslan would cry, fall into a few shapeless days, and then carry on. And he wondered it himself. Why come back at all if all it caused was pain?

Because he had no choice, was the answer. He was drawn to Aslan as Eve was to the apple, poisoned by fate and making more than just him pay for the consequences. And that's what love is, pain and sacrifice for the best feeling imaginable. Sometimes that is enough; love heals most, but not all. And for Liam and Aslan it would always be so; the love only just barely covering the pain.