[He twines fingers with Ed, trusting enough in the hand pressing his down that he doesn't have to look at it, his face slack and absorbed with the peace Oswald has only known when he's asleep. From somewhere far away he can hear Ed calling, whispering his name like an incantation, a secret, the sound of it rolling through him, down, down, humming in his balls. He murmurs in answer, breaking a kiss to get a breath in. The fingers of his unpinned hand trail Ed's spine to the small of his back and up again, gentlest over the places where old hurts lie. There's enough he doesn't know about Ed's past. But what he does know has its teeth in him and won't let him go until he has done the only thing he can do: hunt for the man responsible and hope he's still alive to brought to justice, however Ed saw fit.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-01-09 08:44 pm (UTC)And what is that, if not an act of love?]