"I like your hands," Type smiles shyly, while Tharn flips through his new sketchbook, a dozen sheets of which are drawn with his hands in various positions.
Do whatever you want, baby. Just always smile at me like that.
"Actually, there's nothing remarkable about them," Tharn protests out of old habit, twisting their fingers, "and sometimes I... hate them."
"What are you talking about! What are you!" Type instantly perks up and brings their entwined hands to his lips, leaving traces of kisses on Tharn's palm along the wrist and on each knuckle.
This Type's tenderness blows Tharn's mind.
"Yes. Sometimes I hate them," he whispers after kissing the calluses on his baby's fingers, left by a pencil for several hours.
"But why, Tharn?"
"Because they hurt you once."
Tharn alludes to the incident on the beach when he pushed the boy away so rudely because he just wanted to reconcile the tips of his shoelaces. And Type understands everything too. Grabs his cheeks, squeezing them almost painfully with his palms:
"That's not true! That's not true, Tharn! Or, no, not like that..." Type blushes with small ears, the tip of his chin twitches funny - obvious signs of strong excitement. "They also healed me, healed me, do you hear? You know that, right? Right, Tharn?"
Tharn knows only one thing: the moment he first saw him, like... like a broken puppet... at that moment, all the crooked mirrors of the false kingdom of his thoughts shattered against the truth of reality. Even if he did not immediately admit it to himself, but he was Tharn before Type. And now there is Tharn after. Or rather, Tharn along with Type.
And baby Type, seeing Tharn's stupor, finds how to change the topic:
"And I also love your eyes, Tharn," he runs his thumbs over the Tharn's eyelids, "I like how they rejoice with you when I kiss them. And I always see so much promise in them... that everything-everything will be fine with us."
Tharn grins, wrinkles pile up in the outer corners of his really beautiful eyes, but Type does not give in:
"And your hair! So Soft, so soft," Type ruffles them with both hands, "and your lips."
Tharn puts down the sketchbook, hugs Type, pulling him closely to himself:
"Baby," he kisses his charming boy on the tip of his nose, "and if I start listing all your virtues and complimenting them, we won't do for a week. You're incredible, Type. You know," Tharn presses his forehead to the boy's forehead, "I'm not religious at all... But at some point I realized that meeting you is like an answer to a prayer if I said it out loud and asked God to guide me on the path of truth."
Type opens his lips, and Tharn kisses them. Fervently and sincerely. And restless hurry-up Type suddenly pulls away and starts chattering:
"I forgot to tell you, Tharn! I went to the park after the college today and saw a Shiba Inu puppy for the first time in my life! And in the morning a butterfly flew into our apartment, and I ran for ten minutes to release it... while you were sleeping! I wanted to wake you up so you could look at it too, but I didn't. You're too handsome when you are sleeping!"
Tharn laughs, hugging his precious boy, with perfect childlike spontaneity admiring such simple things. And silently thanks Someone wise and distant (or maybe very close) for being able to see and feel this smile every day.
Like a blessing.
YOU ARE READING
Smile (Complete)
Fanfiction"This Type is kind of a weirdo. He looks about twenty years old, but behaves like a twelve-year-old." "He's not a weirdo. He's not okay..."
