Exposure

Chapter 11

Aesop's POV

(Warning sexual references)

The days after that flowed like water over slate, not a single bump in the road. Every other day (if luck was on their side) Aesop would sneak over to Joseph's room and they'd simply relish each other's company. They'd hold each other, kiss and, inevitably those kisses would become... something more. Surprisingly, Joseph was the one who became embarrassed and shy about their intimacy when it somehow slipped into their conversations. He'd shrivel into their bed (They'd become accustomed to calling the king sized 'theirs' instead of just 'Joseph's') and sheepishly smack Aesop's arm,
'Aesop!' He would reprimand 'Someone might hear!'
Which was completely untrue, there wasn't a time where they weren't completely alone in Joseph's room. To be honest, Aesop found the heat that arose in Joseph's ghostly pale skin cute when he got embarrassed. It was strangely addictive seeing someone who usually had the confidence of a titan melt away to a bashful boy like spun sugar in water. It wasn't like Aesop to tease, especially in a subject that the both of them were unsure of themselves in. It wasn't like how the masses described it- truthfully it was clumsy and awkward, neither of them could figure out where they were going yet it was euphoric and passionate. Their closeness sealed the gap of hesitation and the both of them were able to fully communicate their feelings both verbally and more so physically.

Seasons swung into another, spring to a sweltering summer, then a tepid autumn before finally arriving to the picture perfect winter where snow fell on snow. Matches were few since the snow had engulfed most of the playing fields. The only one that was acceptable was Leo's Memory and even then it was only in use around five times weekly, it seemed that the mysterious caretaker had been put through a run for his money this winter with the tonnes of snow.

Aesop thanked the stars for this opportunity. Aesop and Joseph had been dating for a solid seven or eight months now and they were more grounded in their relationship. Gone were the days where they would tiptoe around each other, fearing every move they made would scare the other off like a deer. They could simply be the fullest version of themselves.

That night, Aesop was running over this trail of thoughts. He never thought they'd be so lucky to get this far, they weren't exactly as discrete as they could've been. For example, they were in Aesop's room on the survivors side tonight which was risky in itself. Not to mention they'd gone a tad further than first intended with kisses.

It was fine this way. They were both happy, both content. It felt like nothing could ever go wrong as Aesop looked down at the half asleep figure of Joseph in the dimly lit room. Joseph was laying on the nook between Aesop's chest and shoulder, Aesop's arm looped around him and their hands intertwined. It was really remarkable how young Joseph looked bathed in the golden candlelight despite him being six years older than Aesop. His skin was unblemished and smooth like marble except for the odd blossoming bruise on his collar bone and neck that disappeared under the covers. Aesop was just as bad, the marks littered most of his body, even in places he didn't remember Joseph being. It didn't matter anyway, Aesop would cover them up in the morning- a perk of making dead people look not so dead for a living.

They'd taken an interest in each other's hobbies too. Of course, Aesop wasn't teaching Joseph how to transfer souls into surrogates and Joseph wasn't teaching how to capture them in pictures but they'd both picked up the basics. Meaning that Joseph had gotten further into art and branched out of the photography side and into sculpting and painting whereas Aesop had learnt how to use Joseph's old fashioned cameras. The pair had divided picture upon picture among themselves to secretly relish.

The next morning, the pair woke intertwined. Tangled at every place possible and as close as physics would allow them. They liked it like that. Strangely they still had a primal desperation for each other, like the other had to act as a shield throughout the night in case the boogeyman came for them.
Well, the boogeyman's already here, Aesop humoured to himself as he watched the thin, faded figure of Joseph Desaulnier stretch and unravel himself on the edge of the bed.