Nathaniel's hands move to Anders' waist, and he smiles. Anders had looked radiant under the stars, but this light suits him better. Anders is not cold and white like starlight. In here, the fire casts seams of copper in golden hair, and shines in the depths of amber eyes. Skin that is pale under daylight is faintly bronze now, and Nathaniel will take the greatest of pleasure in unwrapping each inch of it until this golden god of a man is bare and glimmering in the firelight.

"My husband," he names him, and leans in to take a kiss from his lips.