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"You're awake," Bright says quietly. It had been over a week since he had spoken to the prince. Their last conversation hadn't been kind to either of them. The tension is thick on the incubus' end as he watches Win with a careful gaze He sees everything; from the way the latter rubs his eyes, to the way his skin has returned to its usual honey-coloured glow. Win hasn't noticed his presence and there's a part of him that feels relieved while another, anxious as he has to make himself known. He steps closer to the bed, his hands reaching out and gently grasping the Prince's face. "Win?"
Win leans into the palm of Bright's hand almost unconsciously as the golden hue of his eyes try to adjust to the glow in the room, which comes from the hanging lights that decorate the walls. Bright can feel his chest tighten once the Fae meets his face. "Earlier," Win's voice is softer than he recalls. "Earlier, were you playing?"
Bright nods. He isn't sure if he should pull away, not when the Prince is refusing to let him go. He feels Win's hand fist into the red sweater he'd given him loosely tugging him closer. "It was for you," he manages to say. "I was playing for you." Bright wants to bite his tongue for allowing himself to say such a thing. He changes the subject. "Win, let me check your bandages..."
The Prince doesn't seem to hear him because he's pulled down so Win's face is buried into his shoulder and mumbles, "Hold me...." Bright gathers he may be half asleep, perhaps still in a dream. "Hold me," Win says again. He pulls Bright closer, his lips almost brushing against his neck. "Please..."
Bright gives in rather quickly and hates himself for it, but who could blame him? He moves forward onto the bed, his arms now wrapping around the Fae's waist. He's almost certain Win can hear his heart beating. The room is quiet, the door is shut, and Bright wonders how long he can last.
He can feel Win press closer and sees the sheets fall off of his bare shoulders. Bright swears the Prince is taking advantage of him but when Win looks at him, his expression still in a daze, his thoughts of suspicion fly out the window. He leans in close to the Fae's face and lets his parted mouth hover over his.
Win smiles even wider. "You look as if you want to kiss me." He says it as an observation and Bright keeps still. Win tilts his head, his bedridden hair falling into his eyes and asks, "Do you want to kiss me?"
The siren pulls the sailor into the sea.
Bright drowns. He presses his mouth to Win's like he'd done in the tavern so many months ago, the way he had when he believed nothing worthwhile would come out of this arrangement.
He was wrong.
Because the way Win's arms reach around his neck, his lips meeting his shyly made it worth much more than he anticipated. Bright had pushed him away before, but now he wants nothing more than to bring him closer. Gently, yet still with force, he pulls away as the Fae tries to chase his mouth with his once he comes to his senses. "Win, let me change your wrappings..." he tries again, attempting to keep his voice steady but the colour in his gaze speaks something else entirely. "Then, we can...."
"Then?...." The prince repeats sleepily.
"Talk, Bright blurs out. "Then we can talk." After much restraint on his part, Bright manages to turn Win around and slowly begins to change his bandages. The room falls silent again. He does what he remembers. The demon removes them slowly and feels guilt everytime he feels Win wince under his touch. "Sorry," he moves to open the jar he likes to call 'whatever Felicity told me to use' and dabs it on his wounds with a damp cloth, which he grabs from the bedside table.
Win stiffens again and looks over his shoulder. His wings want to fully emerge but he feels Bright put his other hand against his back to keep them still as he finishes. "Don't," Bright says sternly "You'll make them worse."
And the Prince listens.
Once he's done, Win turns to face him again now more alert, more coherent. His eyes trail to Bright's collarbone, then down to his neck noticing the bite marks and scratches. "I did that....?"
Bright immediately fixes his sweater once he realises what Win is referring to. "It's nothing..." He watches the Prince look down towards his hands. "Win, look at me."
"I shouldn't." He hardly want to, not when he thinks about what he was doing moments prior.
The Incubus moves closer; into the Fae's space. He grips his shoulders. "Look at me..."
Bright sounds so gentle and the Prince cannot seem to bear it.
Win flushes as he meets Bright's burgundy hue once more. "You're mocking me, aren't you? You know how I feel about you and you're just--"
"--Just? Just what?" Bright snaps. "Have you ever considered what I've had to go through, what I went through to bring you back? Felicity was--I was worried.
Win scoffs, "Don't give me your fucking pity. I don't need it."
Bright looks deep into the Fae prince’s honey colored eyes, those same eyes he continuously finds himself lost in. “It was hard, because the more I pushed you away, the more I realized she was right," he admits. He pauses and gently places a hand on Win's cheek, “It was never a matter of if but a matter of when. “
Win is fighting with himself. "What are you trying to tell me? Because last time we spoke, you made it perfectly clear you're--"
"I'm in love with you."
"What?"
"I've been in love with you for a while now. You being in danger simply made me accept it." Bright studies the prince, and searches his eyes for the questions he desperately wants answered. "And no," he continues. "It wasn't our first meeting, nor was it our second or third."
"When was it, then?"
"You don't need to know." Bright smiles then and Win ponders on the thought that perhaps he doesn't need to know.