Work Text:
Pran held his breath. Their faces were inches apart. He feared that a single puff of air would dispel the tension between them. He didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want time to start moving forwards again.
Trapped between two walls – one made of brick, the other hard muscle – Pran could do nothing but swallow. His eyes stung from the prolonged stare – and maybe something else – but he couldn’t look away.
He heard the sound of shouting, whether in the distance or fading away like the rest of the world he wasn’t sure.
It hurt too.
It twisted his insides, making him feel sick. He thought he might cry. He hadn’t been this close to Pat in so long and now here he was, inches from his face. Pran had so much he wanted to say and yet none of it came to mind in that moment.
Pat’s arm, resting above the other’s head, faltered, slipping further down the smooth bricks and forcing his face ever closer.
Perhaps he felt it too. The other boys had long since passed their little corner of the world in their search. They were in the clear. So why wasn’t Pat moving away? Why wasn’t he daring to utter a word? Why wasn’t Pran?
His gaze flitted, just for a second, down to Pat’s lips. He saw. He gulped, looking straight into his eyes and wondered what he was thinking. He couldn’t read him like he once could. It had been too long. Was that longing in his eyes or was it just a reflection of his own emotions? Could it be sadness? It looked more like desperation. But why?
He felt the press of something soft on his lips before his brain short-circuited. His eyes slipped closed, unshed tears breaching past his eyelashes to drip down his reddened cheeks. Lights exploded behind his eyes. He moved to return the kiss.
But he was met with only air.
Pran’s eyes flickered open. The other boy had disappeared. The only proof of his existence was the tingling feeling of a gentle hand that had once caressed his cheek.