The thing is, if the pool were dotted with other bathers, and if it were anyone else beside him, he would be quicker with the business of shucking off his clothes to hide his nakedness in the magma. But it's just them, and that demands a sort of eggshell reverence. Like the vault of the cavern is a sort of cathedral, and they're shedding something other than their clothes.
Down to his drawers, Wilhelm pauses. In his peripherals, he catches the warm tan stretch of Iris' body, just as bare. He begins to think that it was a mistake bringing him down here, playing with fire, flying too close to the sun. What did he think was going to happen?
"We brought our coats," he jokes, chuckling as he imagines them climbing back to the surface wrapped in jackets and scarves but nothing else.
It diffuses some of the tension in him, so many fragile strings pulled taut in anticipation. A slow breath to steel himself, expelled through his nose. His thumbs hook into the top of his shorts, and he slides them down his legs. He adds them to the pile of things draped over the rocky promontory. Then he's only in his necklace, the white crystal pendant that has always reminded him of a full moon. It has lain against his chest for almost a full year now. For the first time since Kelson gave it to him, he unclasps it and tucks it into his pants pocket.
Finally, his eyes flick to Iris. Careful to contain them to the boy's face, he fights against the rising desire to drink in all of him. He tilts his head in invitation toward the deeper vein of the pool before wading in. The shallow shelf gently slopes downward, then drops off into waist-deep magma. Neither clear like water nor opaque like the surrounding rock, it covers without fully concealing.
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Down to his drawers, Wilhelm pauses. In his peripherals, he catches the warm tan stretch of Iris' body, just as bare. He begins to think that it was a mistake bringing him down here, playing with fire, flying too close to the sun. What did he think was going to happen?
"We brought our coats," he jokes, chuckling as he imagines them climbing back to the surface wrapped in jackets and scarves but nothing else.
It diffuses some of the tension in him, so many fragile strings pulled taut in anticipation. A slow breath to steel himself, expelled through his nose. His thumbs hook into the top of his shorts, and he slides them down his legs. He adds them to the pile of things draped over the rocky promontory. Then he's only in his necklace, the white crystal pendant that has always reminded him of a full moon. It has lain against his chest for almost a full year now. For the first time since Kelson gave it to him, he unclasps it and tucks it into his pants pocket.
Finally, his eyes flick to Iris. Careful to contain them to the boy's face, he fights against the rising desire to drink in all of him. He tilts his head in invitation toward the deeper vein of the pool before wading in. The shallow shelf gently slopes downward, then drops off into waist-deep magma. Neither clear like water nor opaque like the surrounding rock, it covers without fully concealing.