Lahore Pigeons Are Some Of The Most Visually Appealing Birds Out There. Like In Terms Of Visual Design.

lahore pigeons are some of the most visually appealing birds out there. like in terms of visual design. very minimalist, good contrast.

<3

“Mine?” Isak says it instinctively. Every questionable look and smile and dick joke and daydream kicking down the barrier in his head labeled Even with a big fat question mark. The night is not over and they both know it. Isak bites his own lip with a smile when he asks it, still high from the kiss and the cold and holy shit is this real life.

He jogs a meter or so while Even gets the bike going, swinging his leg over the rear rack and resting his feet on the pegs. His scarf and Even’s wig lie forgotten on the grass of the front yard. His agileness surprises even himself—wet clothes and all—and Isak thinks it’s just the adrenaline.

Which is throbbing through his body in amounts so vast he thinks it’s replaced every red blood cell.

“Which way?”

Isak signals for Even to hang a left.

They pick up speed. About thirty seconds of silence and then Even squeezes the handle bar breaks just a bit when they start to cruise down hill.

And then they start laughing, two voices in the wind in a language everyone can understand.

Isak can’t help it. He squeezes his arms around Even’s middle and presses his nose into his back. Closes his eyes while his cheeks strain and his stomach hollows itself out with sound. Tears start to form at the corners of his eyes, and the bike wobbles a bit as Even loses balance with his own giggles.

At the bottom of the hill, Even stops. Turns around. Eyes red and crinkly as he wipes at them and looks at Isak, who’s holding his sides as they start to hurt.

“Sorry,” Even manages through a laugh. “My aunt doesn’t live there.”

“No shit,” Isak says, punching him lightly in the arm.

“But how else was I supposed to get you in the pool?”

“Why did we need to go in the pool?”

Even smiles—somehow softer yet bigger—and doesn’t answer him. Unless a quick peck on the corner of his lips is an answer. It’s so fast Isak doesn’t have time to react—normally his brain would be screaming at how fast this is all going, but the endorphins outweigh rational thought.

A few shaky pumps of the pedals, and they’re off again.

“Another left,” Isak points. He hugs Even around the waist. Rests his cheek on Even’s back. Closes his eyes as the cold night air whips at his face.

•

They run up the corridor stairs on their way to Kollektivet giggling. Water dripping from soaking clothes in their wake. At the landing between floors, Even grabs Isak by the wrist and turns him around, silently asking him for something.

He’s beaming. Blue eyes and wet hair and patchy cheeks from the cold wind. He’s not the made-up boy Isak’s used to. Suave. The clothes and the style and the attitude. Aloof and cool.

But it doesn’t matter. This is almost better. This is the real Even.

And this is the real Isak.

So he lets himself be real. Isak kisses Even on the landing, water drips and sliding lips and shuffling feet echoing off of the industrial walls. The same level of passion and hunger as when they surfaced from the water.

“I should probably see if anybody’s awake,” Isak mumbles as he breaks away, digging for his phone. Not too far gone to give himself away completely.

He purses his lips and ignores the messages from Emma—at least three of them now.

ISAK: Are you home?

ESKILD: No, I’m out with Noora. Why? Did you forget your keys?

ISAK: Nope. Have fun.

He pockets his phone, grabs Even by the hand, and they race up the stairs.

•

“Um,” Isak fumbles, looking around his messy room in a panic as Even follows him through the door. He grabs Eskild’s Jesus t-shirt draped over the back of his desk chair and tosses it to him.

“Thanks,” Even smiles, peeling off his wet one first and holding it awkwardly like he’s not quite sure what to do with it.

Fuck. The smooth plane of his stomach. The dip of his waist. His nipples his collar bones his shoulders. Isak has to hold his breath, and it takes him a moment of blatant starring to realize it’s his apartment and he should probably take care of it.

‘Right, err,” Isak spins around, not quite sure what to do. He takes the wet shirt from Even.

“Do you have pants I can borrow, too?”

“Yes. Uhh. Right. Pants.” Isak pulls open the middle drawer of his dresser and quietly thanks God he did laundry the other day. He hands Even a pair of dark grey sweatpants. “I’ll go hang these up.” He darts out of the door before Even gets totally undressed.

A deep breath in. It’s all starting to catch up with Isak. The pre-party and the pool and the kiss—all nose diving into a half-naked Even standing in the middle of his bedroom. Everything moving at lightning speed. And now it’s the loud thunder after the flash. The expectations. The intentions. Pedestals Isak doesn’t know if he can stand on yet. A deep breath out.

He wrings Even’s clothes out in the tub and hooks them over the shower curtain. Strips, and does the same to his own.

“Fuck,” Isak mumbles to himself, palm smacking his forehead and dragging down his face. He forgot to bring clothes of his own to change into. And all he’s got left on is his underwear. Tight underwear, because he just had to wear tight pants tonight. Still soaking wet and clinging to, well, everything. At least they’re black.

Sighing, Isak takes a moment to collect himself before going back to the room, where Even is sitting on the edge of his bed. He traces his eyes up Isak’s body before making deliberate eye contact, not glancing away as if that’s hard to do.

“Sorry.” Isak isn’t quite sure what he’s apologizing for, but he quickly grabs some clean clothes and makes his way back out of the room because there’s no way he’s taking his wet underwear off in front of Even.

“I won’t look.”

Isak turns around.

Even grabs Isak’s blue pillow, smashes it to his face, and flops his upper half down dramatically on the bed. He hums something Isak can’t distinguish.

“Am I that ugly?” Isak jokes, and he hears Even laugh through the pillow. He strips. Puts new clothes on—grey hoodie black sweatpants. Stands next to the bed and tugs the pillow away from Even’s face.

Smiling, Even leans up and grabs him by the back of the neck down into a kiss. “Quite the opposite,” he hums over Isak’s lips.

Isak melts into it, surprised at how comfortable he becomes. Their lips slide open and Isak finds peace in the safety of his room—a settling in this kiss he didn’t quite find in the pool or on the bike or on the stairs.

One knee on the bed. Then two. Then he lies down next to Even, who’s been leaning back with him. They break apart, and Isak closes his eyes and takes a sharp inhale when Even trails a thumb down his cheek. It’s all so soft and so fast. Innocence and experience. Polar opposites and a turning point Isak thinks he’s ready for—that he’s pictured; dreamed of—but it’s still so different when it’s actually right in front of him.

How did you know that I’m—” He still can’t say it.

“I didn’t,” Even reassures. “I just wanted to.”

Isak softens into him, tippin his chin up. “I wanted you to, too.”

Even closes the distance to kiss him, and it starts sweet. Hands on faces. Fingers through wet hair.

And then Even props himself up above Isak and licks into his mouth. Instinctively, Isak’s hands finds their way to his sides. Warning signs flare like pinpricks through his whole body but when he reminds himself this is what he wants it starts to feel like something else entirely.

Now, it’s the longest they’ve kissed.

He starts to feel all the blood in his body rush south and Isak pulls his hips back so Even doesn’t know, because even now, with a boy laying on top of him and kissing him in his bed, Isak doesn’t feel allowed to be turned on by this.

Isak breaks away and exhales a shaky breath into Even’s collar bone. He feels his whole body tremble with it.

“Are you okay?” Even’s hair is drying into soft waves over his forehead. They graze Isak’s cheek, blue eyes peeking through.

“Yeah,” Isak breathes in, nodding. “Yeah.” He pulls Even back down into another kiss, hot lips a little swollen. (The first time he’s ever kissed someone so hard.)

Even relaxes his body against him, and Isak can’t scoot his hips back any farther. There’s some mixed emotions when they flush together, loose sweatpants unable to hide much, and Isak feels Even. And feels Even feel him. And then hears Even—just the littlest, highest sound somewhere tight in his throat that pauses the kiss for a moment.

The pressure is celestial—little white dots paint the back of Isak’s eyelids like stars and the ringing in his ears only accentuates the imbalance of his body.

Isak let’s out a sound in this moment, realizing he’s held his breath, and god it’s a little mortifying. “Sorry,” he breathes through the kiss, which now is more just their open mouths against each other, and maybe apologizing is even more mortifying.

Even’s lips thin into a smile—Isak can feel it. “Don’t be.” He rests his full weight on top of Isak, as if to elicit another.

“Can we—” Isak stops him. Aware of every nerve on fire and every cell swollen at every point of contact. He wants to savor the night just like this. This is enough. This is perfect. “Just lie here?”

Pulling back, Even tips his nose along Isak’s cheek. Rests his chin in the dip of Isak’s neck. Combs his fingers through Isak’s drying curls and cuddles into his side.

“We can lie here forever.”

@profanacreatur

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how i actually treat my doggo

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Oh god!!! I needed that laugh XD

WOW