.:.:.:.:.

Progress

Charlie leaned on the windowsill with a textbook forgotten in his lap. It had been a year since Amita left for a professorship of her own in Boston, yet he couldn't remember ever being happier. He pressed his forehead to the cool glass and smiled as he felt familiar, muscled arms slide around his waist.

Leaning into the firm chest at his back, Charlie sighed a little in content.

They stayed like that for nearly half an hour, just watching the November snow fall before he twisted in those arms to press a kiss to a tanned shoulder, "Love you, Colby," murmured into the warm skin. A deep chuckle reverberated through him and a kiss was pressed into his hair, "Love you, too, Charlie."