Cadence, thrusting into him, seeing him at that instant, came undone as well; the peak flared instant and unstoppable, a rising swell of love and want like sunlight building and redoubling and spilling from his bones, from his heart, from everyplace inside.
They lay together in bed, sticky and sated, after.
Eventually, once Cade could think, he propped himself up on one arm, touched Jeremiah’s cheek, traced salt and dampness: the kind that came with overwhelmed emotions, but not the bad kind, only too much to contain. He gathered tears on a fingertip, eased them away.
“Cade,” Jeremiah said, voice tiny, and reached fumblingly for him; Cade said, “I’m here, I’ve got you, shh, just let me take care of you, you were so good, so perfect, just let me—” and tenderly cleaned them both up, gentle as he knew how to be, while his heart splintered apart around the spear of clear crystalline love.
Perfection, he thought. Yes. Yes, this, please just let me—