Drabble 7

The first time Revelin and Bacchus kiss is less than a day after they find each other again. Revelin doesn’t expect it, though upon closer reflection in the quiet evening hours, he would realize all the evidence was there had he only been clever enough to simply look. It happens at the local pub over a couple of pints. Scorpio is away arranging passage on the departing caravan—a decision reached once it becomes apparent that Bacchus and Revelin know each other, and Bacchus is also working on the caravan. “Safety in numbers,” Scorpio tells Revelin after the hunter assesses Bacchus the way a gambler assesses a horse. Revelin is free to join Bacchus for a few drinks. Once the ale has pleasantly begun to dull his senses, Bacchus takes Revelin by the side of the face and closes the scarce distance between them with a kiss that is both imploring and possessive, notes of longing and apprehension in the pause of breath just before and just after. Revelin isn’t sure how he surmises so much from the briefest press of lips, the faintest taste of something beneath the bitterness of their drinks, but he knows. He knows the way he knows it will rain even on a day that appeared clear. He knows the way he knew Lydia was pregnant long before her physician confirmed it. He licks his lips as if to recapture the sensation, and his cheeks warm in a way he hopes is more from alcohol than embarrassment. If Bacchus notices it’s from the latter, he makes no mention of it. Revelin never would have considered such a thing—kissing a man, kissing Bacchus—but now that the option presents itself, he finds it isn’t an altogether repulsive thought. A curious one, but not repulsive. Revelin drops his gaze, chewing his bottom lip to hide the smile that’s creeping across his face. Bacchus’ hand doesn’t leave its place on his cheek, and the air seems to crackle between them the longer they stay so close. “It’s good to see you again, Revelin,” Bacchus says, and his low voice sounds almost like a purr, a sound so soft and so deep that Revelin shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the clamor of the pub. But he does. He places his hand over Bacchus’ on his face and answers, “It’s good to see you, too.”