[In the end, he stays where he is, with one leg folded and the other stretched out over the edge of the chaise-lounge, daring to sweep his hand up Ed's sleeve and over the curve of his shoulder to rest there while they take and taste each other, kisses broken and tenderly relaid with the same patience he has devoted to the best of his plans. He wants Ed to know how much he is loved, to be flooded with it, top to bottom, so powerfully that he'd never question it again - and that Ed is still there, with him, assures him that he must be doing something right.]
...are you happy? [He whispers against Ed's lips between kisses, a needful, child-like smallness to his voice.]
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...are you happy? [He whispers against Ed's lips between kisses, a needful, child-like smallness to his voice.]