hmpf

There is something deeply odd about his body. Deeply odd, and impossibly attractive. His face, all cheekbones and nose, was made to be outlined by harsh light and stark shadow. His fingers are long, elegant, they steeple in thought, dance in explanation. Long legs, made for strides, not steps. Long arms, for claiming space. He moves like a dancer, like an athlete, like a cat - like a man who has been at home in his body for millennia. At times he seems boneless; then, he's all bones and joints and angles. Smiles with his entire face; laughs with his entire body. He can do cute. He commands attention by being perfectly unassuming. His frame is made for hanging shapeless clothes from, clothes that are wide, worn, lived in, spacious and comfortable. He inhabits them like his body, with ease and grace.

(This may be fan fiction, or not.)

He says, "... and that's when I felt he was, almost, a separate entity, that he was real." He says, "That sounds like I'm completely out of my mind!" Laughs, face crinkling, hands flying up, fluttering, he's agitated, and there's a bit of denial there. The laugther's a disclaimer. He would be spooked, perhaps, to know just how much they love him in precisely that moment. They will replay it in their minds for months to come.