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Eliott watched as Lucas slept peacefully in front of him. The moonlight streamed through the thin curtains, casting a warm glow around him. He’d told Lucas many times that he was beautiful when he slept. To Eliott, he was always beautiful, but when he slept, his beauty was transcendent, something once captured in oil paintings from long ago. That was why Eliott was sitting in the chair across from the bed, sketch pad in hand, eyes trained on the beautiful boy in front of him. He wanted to surprise him with artwork for his next birthday. He planned to paint a piece with Lucas bathed in the glow of the Paris moon and another with Lucas in sunlight, colors on, around, and shining through him, as he remembered him the first time they made love over a year ago. It had been a tough few months. Lucas tried to put on a brave front; he had been very patient and attentive.
They had their blowups, but they always came back to each other, their love stronger each time. Recently, Eliott had been feeling a great deal better. His mom had convinced him to try an experimental drug trial, one that combined technology with medicine. It was light ages away from the biofeedback therapy he had tried as a kid, and at first, his mom had been skeptical right along with him, but she and Lucas had nose-dived into the research and had seen some promising results. Eliott had still held out. His life, while not perfect, was the best it had ever been. He was the happiest he had been in a long time, and the sleeping boy in front of him was a big part of that. He didn’t want to jeopardize what they had. What if the new treatment made his condition worse?
Then there had been a monumentally rough couple of weeks that had ended with Eliott feeling so down that he couldn’t get up to bathe for days. He had finally been able to sit up on the edge of the bed, but could not move any further. Hours passed; it felt like eons. His bones felt ancient, old as time, his mind like a stone, hard and dull. Lucas came home and rushed over to him, dropping his backpack, folders, and bags on the floor in a scattered heap. Eliott had not fought him, had not had the strength to push him away. Lucas had held him, then he’d gone to the bathroom and filled the tub with warm, sudsy water. Lucas undressed him, removing each piece with such care that it caused Eliott to turn to him, trying for a smile that just would not come. Lucas had kissed him softly then, on each eyelid, on his nose, on his mouth. He had kissed him on his chest, right above his heart. Then, although he was much smaller, he half-lifted, half-carried Eliott to the warm bath. Lucas removed his own shirt and pants, but kept his briefs on, and then climbed in the tub to sit behind Eliott.
He had washed Eliott’s body slowly, the warm water and Lucas’s strong hands easing away some of the pain in Eliott’s heart and mind. He placed light, butterfly kisses on his back and neck and massaged the soapy water into Eliott’s warming skin until he was clean. Then, Eliott had felt the pause and heard the sharp intake of breath. He was so in tune with Lucas now that he knew he was fighting to not break down, to not show any sign of pain or worry. Eliott leaned back a little, resting his head on Lucas’s chest. He had taken both of Lucas’s hands into his own, grasping them tightly, each trying to be an anchor in the other’s personal storm. He felt Lucas relax, some of the tension leaving his body, as he tightened his arms around him, struggling a little to completely support Eliott’s larger and longer frame. Eliott had wanted to say so much to him right then, to tell him how he was his light when he was trapped in darkness, his home when he felt he lost his way. He had not been able to say any of that, but they had lain like that until the water chilled.
Afterward, Lucas had dried and dressed them both, and they remained in bed that entire weekend, Lucas answering texts and calls from friends only long enough to let everyone know they were alright and spending quality time together. Lucas cooked for him, and he ate when he could, but for the most part, he had remained wrapped all weekend in Lucas’s arms. When he began to feel a little better, he decided to give the treatment a trial run. He turned out to be a good candidate, and he could feel a difference after only a few weeks. He knew he hadn’t been given the placebo course; it was too marked of a difference. He still had highs and lows, but the swings weren’t as extreme. Lucas noticed the difference as well, and they had been able to connect on an even deeper level with Eliott now able to explain and explore his feelings and thoughts with more clarity and focus.
And then, a few weeks later, still feeling better, Eliott had started waking up at 3 a.m. Every morning, it was the same time, day after day. At first, he would just snuggle closer to Lucas, his lover’s warm body calming his mind, if not enough to lull him back to sleep, at least enough to slow his breathing, make him feel less alone in the world. And while he often felt alone at times, even in a room full of people, 3 a.m. had to be the loneliest time of the day. The Paris streets were quiet. Most revelers and late partygoers had retired home for the night; everyone seemed to be sleeping. He would sometimes hear an errant shout in the night or a lone car driving by in the streets below, but usually it was so quiet he felt he could hear the breath of the world itself. He would push his body even closer to Lucas, who slept like a bear, breathing in his scent, comforted by the smaller boy’s warmth. The first few nights, waking up at the same time had been an annoyance, but then by the fourth night, there began to be an ominous feel about that wretched hour and his awakening at the exact same time. It was if he were in some Edgar Allan Poe poem, and the time was some dark warning of impending doom. The fourth night he resisted waking Lucas up, but by the fifth night, with his phone blazing 3:00 a.m., he tapped Lucas lightly and then a little harder until two beautiful, blue eyes, still cloudy with sleep, stared at him in confusion.
“What’s the matter, you ok?” Lucas asked as he rubbed sleep from his eyes, then sat up to lean on one elbow to face Eliott.
Eliott hated to be so selfish and disturb Lucas’s sleep, but now he felt less lonely if slightly embarrassed. “I’m having trouble sleeping,” he admitted. He noticed the slight alarm in Lucas’s eyes and quickly wanted to extinguish it. “I feel fine, I just keep waking up too early.”
Lucas sat up straighter and grabbed Eliott’s hand. “How long has this been going on? Do you think it’s a side effect of the new treatment? Something on your mind?” The questions tumbled out, Lucas’s voice full of worry and concern.
Eliott loved the way Lucas looked at him as if he really saw him as no one had ever seen him before. He knew Lucas cared deeply about him, cared about what he thought, what he wanted. Lucas saw all of him and never wanted to turn away. Lucas was beautiful in the moonlight coming through the bedroom window. The light fell on his face, casting shadows that highlighted his cheekbones and olive-toned skin. In the moonlight, his blue eyes were the color of the deepest part of the ocean, and for one quick moment, Eliott forgot why he had been so disturbed. It was also the moment the idea for the birthday present began to form; he would capture his beautiful, concerned boyfriend awash in moonglow. “You’re so beautiful,” Eliott whispered.
Lucas smiled. “Thank you, but I know you didn’t wake me up at –,” he looked over at his phone, “3:10 in the morning to tell me that.”
“I’ve been having trouble sleeping for the past week,” Eliott paused, looking into Lucas’s concerned eyes. “I wake up every night at the same time…3 a.m. It’s freaking me out a little,” he admitted sheepishly.
Lucas poked his bottom lip out and stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought. “You know what, a few weeks ago, you talked about us being engaged and one day getting married. I think you keep waking up at that time because that’s the time we’re going to have the ceremony.”
“A 3 a.m. wedding, huh?” Eliott said, laughing softly, and yet, intrigued.
“I mean, it won’t be as interesting as a ham and chips wedding,” Lucas teased, slightly nudging Eliott, who playfully punched his arm. “Too soon?” Lucas smiled as he wiggled his brows.
Eliott smiled, they could joke together now about some of the things that happened during Eliott's manic episodes, although they only did it privately. Eliott didn't mind; the shared humor lifted some of the heaviness of his illness without making light of it.
“I think it would work,” Lucas continued. “It would be the talk of the town… Can't you hear Daphy exclaiming about how fabulous it is to be a guest at such a posh wedding...and a gay one at that!” Lucas exclaimed. Eliott could definitely hear her saying something like that after getting to know her over the past year, although to her credit, she was much better lately when it came to stuff like that. It seemed dating Basile was having a real, positive effect on her and vice versa. “I mean, we’d be innovators…no one has a wedding at 3 a.m.”
“There are probably many reasons for that,” Eliott teased, but internally he was giddy with the idea, not just of a 3 a.m. wedding, but he could envision the joy and laughter of friends and family overpowering the deep, weird silence that existed at that lonely hour. It could be kind of beautiful, he thought to himself.
“It could be beautiful,” Lucas said aloud, and Eliott jolted and smiled softly as Lucas seemingly read his mind. “Anyway, that is why you keep waking up at that time,” Lucas explained. “See, I think time is an illusion, so you’ve already experienced this beautiful, wonderful wedding with yours truly, and now you wake up at that time because it moved you so much." Lucas paused looking briefly out of the moonlit window. "The feeling is rippling strongly across the universe, and unfortunately, waking you up every day at the same time.” Lucas leaned over and kissed him softly, once, then once more. “Now that you know the reason, it should be better. No more waking up at 3 a.m.”
Lucas said it with such conviction that Eliott almost forgot that Lucas’s reasoning was so wildly absurd, it was laughable, even if it was a wondrously, beautiful idea.
“You’re full of shit,” Eliott laughed. “But for some reason, I love your kooky theory.”
“As much as my multiverse Lucas and Eliott theory?” Lucas asked.
“I think you’ve been watching too many sci-fi films, but I love them both equally,” Eliott admitted. “The way you think turns me on,” he teased, his voice soft with desire.
“Oh, yeah?” Lucas asked. The question was also an answer and filled with awakened desire.
Eliott saw Lucas’s eyes go soft and liquid. He kissed him then, hungrily and deeply. Lucas’s mouth still tasted lightly of the fruity wine they had drunk before bed, and the sweet taste of his tongue made Eliott grow hard with desire. Eliott wanted to show him how happy he was to have him, how protected he made him feel.
“Are you tired?” he asked.
“Not at all.” Lucas answered.
Eliott stared deeply into Lucas’s eyes, searching and then finding the deepest part of his lover’s soul. He let a soft smile curl one side of his mouth. Lucas smiled wider; that full, wide smile was Eliott’s kryptonite, and he kissed him again and again, his mouth devouring Lucas’s mouth, his tongue teasing and tasting his lover’s lips and tongue. He pulled back, slowing down, wanting to savor every minute. He kissed Lucas softly on each eyelid, then his nose, he hovered over his mouth again tasting once more the sweet remnants of the wine.
He slightly nicked Lucas’s lips with his teeth, biting down just enough to taste salt and blood and elicit a deep moan from Lucas's throat. He licked and then kissed his lover's welcoming mouth until another moan escaped. Eliott moved lower, kissing the small mole on Lucas's neck. He then kissed his chest, right above his heart, remembering the time Lucas had done the same just a few weeks earlier. He paused there and laid his head on Lucas’s chest. He listened to his heartbeat; the steady rhythm comforted him and stilled his racing mind. After several minutes, he continued his leisurely southern journey, loving how Lucas squirmed and moaned louder as he moved lower still. Lucas had not worn anything to bed, so he didn’t have to remove clothing as he finally used his mouth, lips, and tongue to taste, pull and tease his lover's full and throbbing erection, slowly and deeply and then faster and deeper. He used mouth, tongue, and hands until Lucas finally cried out and shook in release.
Eliott smiled and pulled himself back up to Lucas’s chest, lying there to hear the quickened but slowly steadying beat of his lover’s heart. He traced light and lazy circles and hearts on Lucas’s chest with his long fingers. Lucas teased his fingers through Eliott’s hair, ruffling it gently.
“Do you want me to take care of you?” Lucas asked.
There was a bigger question there, and the answer to that was a resounding, yes! Lucas instinctively knew how to take care of him, but Eliott knew what he meant in the immediate moment, and he didn't need that then.
“Nope, everything is perfect," he answered. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”
“You always make me feel good,” Lucas sighed. “It doesn’t take that…although I’m not complaining," he said, laughing.
Eliott smiled. “You make me feel good, too.” And for the first time in a long time, Eliott quickly fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. He didn't wake up until morning sunlight streamed brightly through the windows. The following night, Eliott went to sleep early and did not wake up until seven o'clock the following morning. He had slept the whole night and had not woken once. The following week, he deliberately woke up a little earlier to begin "Project Birthday Present". Now as he sketched Lucas, moonlight gave way to dawning day. The burgeoning sunlight kissed Lucas's face, his long lashes against his cheeks, his slightly parted lips, his hair, mussed against his pillow. He was so beautiful in the moonlight, but in sunlight, he was glorious. Eliott wrote notes in the margins of his sketch pad, the colors and techniques he wanted to try, while also keeping a mental snapshot of the moment. He refrained from using his phone’s camera, wanting to remember Lucas as his mind’s eye remembered him. Eliott stared at him for a few moments before Lucas opened one blue eye and squinted in the sunlight.
“Did you sleep?” Lucas asked.
“Best sleep ever,” Eliott admitted.
Lucas reached over, hands grasping, an invitation for Eliott to come and join him in their bed. Eliott walked over, the notepad already safely tucked away in the bedside drawer. Eliott let himself be pulled down onto the bed. He wrapped his long limbs around Lucas in a warm, human cocoon. Moments later, after they were both sated from long kisses and lovemaking, the two boys lay in the morning sunlight, both in the deepest, calmest sleep they had ever experienced, both dreaming of a Paris garden filled with friends and family dancing in moonglow and a little 3 a.m. magic.