His thumb gently trailed over the wet fabric. His hand moved again, fingers sliding across Ron's chest, then up, past and long his collarbone, to his throat and then finally, his chin, cheek, and along his hair until he reached his forehead. He pressed the back of his hand to it.

Ah, they were gods... did hey even get sick? He kept his hand there for a moment as he looked down at Ron. How did he wind up in his bed...? Did he... they must have walked here, but he barely remembered...

"..." His eyes lowered a bit. Te last time Ron was over, he had told him about his... boyfriend... returning and...

Then suddenly he came out of nowhere and saved him... like some strange prince from a storybook...