The boy watched his friend as he slept beside him.
Moments ago, his friend had woken and asked for a few more precious minutes of slumber, and the boy, comfortable in the safe circle of his arms, agreed.
But before the strings of a dream could pull taught and lift him away, his friend sighed into his disorderly hair and whispered,
I hope you know you're the most fascinating thing in the world to me.
And as the boy watched his friend finally slip into the vivid world of false realities and forgotten truths, he wanted nothing more than to be explored. His thoughts, his feelings, laid out bare to the boy before him.
He wanted him to know how safe he felt in the warmth of his arms,.
He wanted him to know how he craved his affection, the touch of his golden skin.
He wanted to walk hand-in-hand with him out into the snow, let the sharp breeze and biting ice make them fresh and pure.
He let his imagination run miles and miles as he too drifted away into the embrace of sleep, resting for a while in his mind away from the overflowing chest of his heart.
And with each pulse that ran through his body, making him blood and flesh and bone, the chest was piled with more and more jewels of happiness, of love, of desire, spilling and leaking through his entire being.
He was radiant.
He was shining.
He was whole.