Malta

[peace_inthe_violence]

This is a fairy tale of blood and bullets
It is the story of three men and three women and a small island between Italy and Africa.
This is a story about tragedy and pain, about healing and hope, but mostly it is about
love.

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[transfuge]

These two men with their hearts overflowing with love were still willing to accept him. Booker was very lucky and he felt like an idiot for forgetting that.

He quietly slipped into the room. Not silently because he wanted to make sure Andy knew it was him by the sound of his footsteps. No need to worry her.

Booker shrugged out of his light button up shirt and then pulled off his t-shirt. It would get very warm wedged between Joe and Nicky. Then he got into bed and patted the spot next to him.

"Come on, Nicky. We're tired." And there was a lack of cuddling right now.

[peace_inthe_violence]

The last thing he wanted was to wake up Andy. She got so little rest, just like the rest of them. Just like he had, earlier that same night. Earlier, when he'd dreamed of...

He dug his nails into the meat of his palm, ignoring the crescents of blood that welled to the surface. He didn't want to go down that road. Not now. Not when he was about to be able to lay in bed with almost every people he loved with him.

The smell of smoke lingered in the air, but he did his best to ignore it as he peeled off his shirt. He waited for Joe to get comfortable between Andy and Booker, then waited for Booker to get comfortable against his husband, and then he finally joined them.

He sighed as he wrapped his arms around the man he'd missed so much, one hand still going to rest on Joe's side even as he pressed small kisses to Booker's collarbone. Sometime between one kiss and when another should have fallen, he was asleep.