With a Kiss
The evening was already late. The party had started and was in full swing, people chatting now more intimately than just an hour earlier. The birthday boy had been snatched by the women and the wine had gone to the collective head of the crowd. Some were dancing and there was heavy flirt in the air. The sofas of the Palace were as soft as ever, when Izil’daerryn poured himself another drink from a beautiful glass carafe. Let the others be merry if they want to, he was more in the observation mood tonight.
“If there’s still some left, I could have a drink, too.”
Izil’daerryn raised his eyes, surprised when heard the oh-so-familiar voice. His pale blue eyes met with the reddish ones, and for a moment he couldn’t believe that his best friend, and previously also a lover, stood there before him.
“I never really thought you’d come tonight.”
He exclaimed, but gestured his comrade to sit, making some room on the sofa. Calthel walked to him and sat down.
“I was able to slip out for a moment, but I will need to head back before Mother loses her cool.” Suddenly the other one was so close, after all this time. He hadn’t expected him to arrive; he knew Calthel was busy with arranging the wedding and both his mother and the soon-to-be wife had been keeping him under very close guard. He had already lost all hope of seeing him for the last time, before his friend would become a husband.
“I’m afraid you just missed Raengel. The ladies took him aside and I’m expecting he won’t be back anytime soon…”
Izil’daerryn tried to play it cool, but he knew he was spouting some nonsense, to make it look natural. And to restrain himself from embracing his old friend, to forbid him from leaving. But Izil’daerryn knew that Calthel was already gone, slipt through his fingers like loose sand. And there had been nothing either of them would have been able to do about it.
“Well, it’s not Raengel I came to see.”
Calthel said slowly, with a hint of a tired smile on his face. Izil’daerryn ignored his ex-lover’s words and stared at his glass. They both knew why the other one was there.
“I’m afraid there’s only one glass.”
He said, avoiding looking into Calthel, the warmth of the older man so close, so irresistibly close that if it would have been any other day, even just few months back, he wouldn’t have been able to contain himself. He would have done anything to get to taste those lips again, to feel the soft, familiar skin against his own. But now, the flame was gone, being forcefully snuffed when it had been burning the brightest. After the smoke had settled and the anger, lust and love had been diluted into bittersweet, hopeless yearning, there was nothing left. During the last few months the frost had crept inside, and he had allowed it, because cold numbs the pain. It hurts at first, but after that it helps. His heart was, ironically, frozen.
“Then we have to make do with this one.”
Calthel said and took the glass from the table. Izil’daerryn let his eyes admire the curve of his friend’s lips when he took a sip. How beautiful was the slender neck he had adorned with kisses, but even when the small yearning for the time now lost surfaced, he knew it was futile. It felt like a dream, when those lips had tasted his skin, and those delicate, long fingers had made him feel the happiest man in the Underdark. Or perhaps, the least miserable.
There were no words. They had been together for most of their life, there was no need for long discussions. It was like an extra sense at this point, as the other knew exactly what the other was thinking. They drank from the same cup in silence, frozen in time. Life continued around them, people came and went, drinks were poured, but they didn’t move anywhere until the carafe was empty and there was no more wine.
“I should go.”
“Yes.”
Izil’daerryn answered, standing up at the same time as his friend rose. For a moment they stared at eachother, Izil’daerryn glancing around, before he could be sure there were no extra eyes and reached to taste those lips for the one last time. They were just the same and it was more bittersweet that this act he had begged after for months didn’t make his heart jump out of his chest, it didn’t make him ascend to anywhere, it didn’t make him immediately loose his cool. Now he finally understood their affair had ended how it originally had started: with a kiss. And he knew Calthel understood it too.
It was a soft, loving kiss, but the fiery lust had already burned out, and the yearning was not for the flesh, but for the soul. He knew he would miss his best friend more than anything. They had been brothers in all but blood and now the other would be going away, out of his reach.
“I will write to you.”
“I know. See you at the wedding.”
“Yes.”
Izil’daerryn watched how his friend was swallowed by the crowd of party-goers, his own empty answer echoing in his ears. Yes. Perhaps, he thought as he witnessed how the last, fleeting hope withered away. But it didn’t hurt. Not anymore.
“If there’s still some left, I could have a drink, too.”
Izil’daerryn raised his eyes, surprised when heard the oh-so-familiar voice. His pale blue eyes met with the reddish ones, and for a moment he couldn’t believe that his best friend, and previously also a lover, stood there before him.
“I never really thought you’d come tonight.”
He exclaimed, but gestured his comrade to sit, making some room on the sofa. Calthel walked to him and sat down.
“I was able to slip out for a moment, but I will need to head back before Mother loses her cool.” Suddenly the other one was so close, after all this time. He hadn’t expected him to arrive; he knew Calthel was busy with arranging the wedding and both his mother and the soon-to-be wife had been keeping him under very close guard. He had already lost all hope of seeing him for the last time, before his friend would become a husband.
“I’m afraid you just missed Raengel. The ladies took him aside and I’m expecting he won’t be back anytime soon…”
Izil’daerryn tried to play it cool, but he knew he was spouting some nonsense, to make it look natural. And to restrain himself from embracing his old friend, to forbid him from leaving. But Izil’daerryn knew that Calthel was already gone, slipt through his fingers like loose sand. And there had been nothing either of them would have been able to do about it.
“Well, it’s not Raengel I came to see.”
Calthel said slowly, with a hint of a tired smile on his face. Izil’daerryn ignored his ex-lover’s words and stared at his glass. They both knew why the other one was there.
“I’m afraid there’s only one glass.”
He said, avoiding looking into Calthel, the warmth of the older man so close, so irresistibly close that if it would have been any other day, even just few months back, he wouldn’t have been able to contain himself. He would have done anything to get to taste those lips again, to feel the soft, familiar skin against his own. But now, the flame was gone, being forcefully snuffed when it had been burning the brightest. After the smoke had settled and the anger, lust and love had been diluted into bittersweet, hopeless yearning, there was nothing left. During the last few months the frost had crept inside, and he had allowed it, because cold numbs the pain. It hurts at first, but after that it helps. His heart was, ironically, frozen.
“Then we have to make do with this one.”
Calthel said and took the glass from the table. Izil’daerryn let his eyes admire the curve of his friend’s lips when he took a sip. How beautiful was the slender neck he had adorned with kisses, but even when the small yearning for the time now lost surfaced, he knew it was futile. It felt like a dream, when those lips had tasted his skin, and those delicate, long fingers had made him feel the happiest man in the Underdark. Or perhaps, the least miserable.
There were no words. They had been together for most of their life, there was no need for long discussions. It was like an extra sense at this point, as the other knew exactly what the other was thinking. They drank from the same cup in silence, frozen in time. Life continued around them, people came and went, drinks were poured, but they didn’t move anywhere until the carafe was empty and there was no more wine.
“I should go.”
“Yes.”
Izil’daerryn answered, standing up at the same time as his friend rose. For a moment they stared at eachother, Izil’daerryn glancing around, before he could be sure there were no extra eyes and reached to taste those lips for the one last time. They were just the same and it was more bittersweet that this act he had begged after for months didn’t make his heart jump out of his chest, it didn’t make him ascend to anywhere, it didn’t make him immediately loose his cool. Now he finally understood their affair had ended how it originally had started: with a kiss. And he knew Calthel understood it too.
It was a soft, loving kiss, but the fiery lust had already burned out, and the yearning was not for the flesh, but for the soul. He knew he would miss his best friend more than anything. They had been brothers in all but blood and now the other would be going away, out of his reach.
“I will write to you.”
“I know. See you at the wedding.”
“Yes.”
Izil’daerryn watched how his friend was swallowed by the crowd of party-goers, his own empty answer echoing in his ears. Yes. Perhaps, he thought as he witnessed how the last, fleeting hope withered away. But it didn’t hurt. Not anymore.
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