The first time Angel felt Dallieh rest near enough to touch, sitting on the floor beside him, a slight smile curved his lips.  Just the tiniest quirk to the corner of his mouth, and the contented green of his eyes brightened for the flicker of an instant.  His eyes moved away from the page in front of him, to the top of Dallieh’s head.  Studied the fall of his hair, the stillness that was not disrupted by something so trivial as breathing.  He hesitated.  Then, his hand reached out to rest lightly against his head, combing so gently through his hair, it could have been a breeze stirring the strands, and not a touch at all.  Then, as though afraid of being struck for it, he drew his hand back, and focused intently on his book, though he didn’t move his leg where Dallieh’s shoulder rested against it.

The words blurred on the page, and Angel glanced at Dallieh again.  How would he react... Angel pursed his lips, and closed his book.  He swung both legs up onto the daybed, and leaned over to lay down, flopping with deliberate gracelessness.  His eyes were now level with Dallieh’s, and he gave him a slight smirk, propping himself on one elbow.

“Whatcha readin’?”  he lilted.  He drawled out the vowels in his words until they became sing-song and teasing.  The hand not supporting his own head shoved his lengthy black tresses back from his forehead.  Another moment of hesitation, before he traced a fingertip lightly over a pale shoulder, and the curve of his neck.  A touch that could have been as accidental as any.  He wasn’t prepared for the look in Dallieh’s eyes when he turned his head to glance at him.  As though... as though he craved the gentle contact.  Like he’d known as little of it as Angel had.  His hand moved again of its own accord, the caress a bit more deliberate, fingers curving to fit against the back of Dallieh’s neck and burying in his hair.  

The smirk changed to a smile as Dallieh arched back when Angel’s hand moved away again, almost as if seeking the contact out.  A soft sound that could pass for a laugh escaped Angel’s lips and he obediently returned to raking his fingers through dark chestnut locks.  He tilted his head, watching Dallieh’s expression, even as he looked back to his book.  Automatically, Angel glanced down as well, wrinkling his nose when nothing on the page made sense to him.  The paper looked so thin.  Like rice paper.  Breathe on it wrong and it would crumble.  Then, Dallieh spoke.  Low, soft enough that Angel turned his head to get closer to the sound.

“Be a rider of love, and fear not the way, for love's steed is swift of pace; with a single bound it brings you to the abode, even though the road be not even.”

He wasn’t prepared for the smile on those features when he looked up from the book in his lap.  Angel thought his heart stopped beating for a moment.  It was...beautiful.  It took his breath away in an instant.  When Dallieh leaned closer to speak, Angel was drawn in, eyes unblinking and shifting with their play of color.  For a moment, he thought Dallieh would bridge the gap between them and kiss him.

“Do you like it?”

Angel had to blink, surprised at his own sense of disappointment that he hadn’t.  He could feel his cheeks heat, faint scarlet tinting the skin.  Averting his eyes and clearing his throat, Angel nodded.

“Ah... yeah.  It’s pretty.”

He let the silence draw out a little longer, laying his head down on the pillow.  His eyes were drawn back to the page, and he shifted so that he was very nearly falling off the daybed, near enough that his breath ruffled the short hairs at the base of Dallieh’s neck.  When he spoke, his voice was barely more than a whisper, as though afraid.  Afraid to break the silence.  Afraid that Dallieh didn’t want to be interrupted again.

“Hey D?”

He received a low hum of acknowledgement and inquiry, and it drew another smirk to Angel’s lips.  He lifted his head, moving forward just a bit more, resting his chin on Dallieh’s shoulder.

“What language is that?  I’ve never seen it before.”

So close. The breath on Dallieh's neck sent a shiver down his spine and he closed his eyes for a moment hoping, at first, that Angel hadn’t felt it and then hoping that he had. A deep sigh. The warmth of that minimal touch and the taste of breath on his tongue. Dallieh's lips curved back into that little smile, the one he’d been suppressing. He turned as he wrapped his mouth around the word and looked at him from under his eyelashes.

“Persian. I copied it from the original with the permission of the man who wrote it.”

So close and he couldn’t help but turn his head, just slightly, just enough to feel a little more of the warmth of that breath upon the side of his face. His smile slowly vanished as he studied the man who leaned against him. Big luminous eyes swirled in different shades of green as they traced words that they couldn’t decipher upon the page. The playful look that danced upon that ageless face, the twisted little smirk that hitched up higher on one side than the other. Did he realize how close he was?

“What’s that sound like?”

Dallieh reread the passage he had translated. He had always thought his accent wasn’t favorable for Persian, but Angel didn’t seem to mind. He seemed to get this lost expression in his eyes before he closed them. When Dallieh stopped, he opened them and wriggled closer. He was going to fall off the daybed, if he kept it up... but he didn’t seem to care.

“Where’s that?”

Dallieh smiled at the indirect question as he traced over the line he’d read with one of his fingers. He would never get tired of Angel’s curiosity. He wouldn’t be sitting in the dimly lit room with him now if it weren’t for those questions, all those thoughts caged behind those crazy swirling eyes. Once more he chanced a glance at him, just one and noticed that his attention was no longer on the book... but on him. Dallieh had to momentarily fight for some composure and was grateful that he couldn’t blush. It looked like Angel was completely lost in a daydream and had somehow fixated on him whilst trapped in its dark depths. What was he seeing where he was? It must be beautiful to invoke such an expression. He let his head fall back against the warm flesh that had wriggled its way around him and closed his eyes, content to allow Angel his moment.

Soft fingers grazed his neck. He turned just slightly and dared one last look. Angel’s expression hadn’t changed, only the focus of his gaze, not the lazy stare of someone lost in thought, but the attentive stare of someone who was watching... him. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. Dallieh so desperately wanted that expression to be meant for him.  A deep sigh and warm breath surrounded him causing a shiver that was too much for him to hide. He couldn’t help himself. He shifted his shoulder just a little under Angel’s weight and brought his face down gently, rubbing his face along Angel's until they fit together and he stopped. Dallieh's eyes were closed and his brow furrowed. The feel of soft skin and warm breath against his face was more than he could take. If he was ended right then he could have said some part of his life was ecstasy. He couldn’t bring himself to move. He became so lost in the feeling of warmth and the touch he craved so much, the breath, the soft fingers that could have been an accident but now traced a lazy circle between his neck and his collarbone. He drew in a breath, but only enough to speak.

“I should go.”

He hadn’t realized he was so close and said it into Angel’s parted lips. It was almost a kiss, so close, and he fought the urge to take his face in his hands and see what it would be like to really kiss him. Instead, Dallieh rose fluidly from his spot on the floor but a set of fingers gently followed the line of his back and hooked into the waist of his pants. He turned just enough to look down.

“You can’t go.” The smile alone was enough to make him ache.

“I can’t?”

“MmmmMmmm... you’ll pull me off the bed.” If the devil was a man it was Angel. How could he not be afraid! Dallieh was afraid to so much as move a muscle. He felt the fingers tighten in his waist, flex first and then pull him backwards. He was afraid that he would snap, but Angel... somehow Angel was only afraid of being pulled onto the floor. His legs buckled as his knees hit the side of the bed and he sat hard. Before he even had time to react, Angel had already curled back up around him, no longer on the edge of the bed.

“Would you... read that to me some more?” A wicked smile crossed his lips but then sweetened and he looked up with something that may have passed for innocence if it had been directed at anyone else… or been anyone else making the expression. Dallieh couldn’t help but acquiesce.

“What language?” The question was rhetorical because he assumed Angel would choose the language he would understand.

“The one it’s written in.”

Dallieh smiled as Angel closed his eyes. Then, he began to read.

Angel grinned and settled himself more comfortably.  He kept his hand hooked into the waist of Dallieh’s pants, as though to be sure he wouldn’t try to flee, and bunched up his pillow under his chin, curling around Dallieh like a large, lazy feline.  Occasionally, he opened his eyes to watch Dallieh’s lips as they formed the unfamiliar words, giving a view of the play of emerald green that shifted and swirled like water in a tide pool.  The soft voice, low and almost purring, soothed the sometimes jagged edges of Angel’s consciousness.  A faint smile curved his lips as well, while he listened.  He couldn’t understand the words, but he didn’t need to.  Long moments passed comfortably, drifting along in peacefulness.  Soon, Angel’s breathing evened out.  His eyes remained closed for longer intervals, and when they opened, it was almost more of a slow blink, than watchfulness.  

The eastern sky was beginning to lighten.  With a long sigh, Dallieh closed the book, his hand resting on the cover as he gazed down at Angel’s sleeping form.  He had to leave soon.  When he got to his feet, Angel stirred.  A yawning sigh escaped him as he stretched languidly and opened one eye, the green of it dim with sleep.

“You leavin’ now?”  he murmured.

“Mmm.  I’m sorry.”

Angel closed his eyes again and curled into the spot that had been vacated, groping blindly until he could find the edge of the blanket and pull it over himself.  Dallieh had almost thought the youth had gone back to sleep, when he spoke again.

“You gonna be back tonight?”  The question was tentatively hopeful.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yeah...”  

“Then I will... Sleep.”

He brushed his fingers through Angel’s silken hair once more, noting the slight smile on his lips. Asleep, he really did look like an angel. Completely at peace. What did Angels dream about? Dallieh couldn’t help but trace the line of his own mouth, remembering a touch that had been forced and then softened, became more, so much more that he had to turn away. It had ached in a way he had never felt. Being so close to him was the sweetest pain he had ever known. He smiled. Dallieh wished he had more time. For the first time in his long life he glared out the window, cursing the sun as it threatened to break the line of the buildings before him. Then he changed, and was gone.