"I missed you, Lucien," Julian breathed out into the cloak, and Alaric stiffened.
He could say the word's back. Write a poem if he had to, about how much he missed Julian, how many times he stared at the empty space in his bed, and how many times he visited the library to touch the books Julian always read.
He could sing a song about it if he had to, but no words came out.
Nothing could express how much he had longed for his scholar but the actions that came next.
Alaric pulled back just enough to look at him, his thumb tracing the line under the corroding violet of Julian's eye.
His jaw was set so tight it looked like it might snap. Then, without a word, he leaned down and claimed Julian's mouth.
It wasn't a gentle reunion that spoke of his affection and how much he missed him. It was a hard, possessive kiss that tasted of the road and raw hunger. He told him how much he desired to hold him, keep him close, and never let anyone else have him from just this kiss alone.
