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Crimson nectar swirl around the glass, staining it a light shade of pink. Heavy brought the wine glass up to his nose, taking in the rich, deep notes of it. Something sweet, with a hint of decadence. His partner’s favourite taste, an impossible to acquire vintage.
He poured two glasses, tall flutes with golden embossed lettering that they kept for special occasions. The scent of the beverage wafted through their vacation home, filling the space with memories and nostalgia. Heavy delicately placed the glasses on a tray, fiddling with them until they sat perfectly centred. Only once satisfied with the composition did he nod to himself, then head outside.
Outside, Medic sat in his preferred rocking chair, a small shape resting upon his chest. He was gently petting through Archimedes Jr’s grey feathers, staring silently at the old dove. There was a small smile gracing his face, and Heavy paused to stare at the handsome laugh lines upon Medic's round cheeks.
The sky was overcast, faint hints of moonlight filtering through the dark clouds. Heavy thought it was beautiful, the sight of the gently storming sea stretching as far as his eyes could see. They had gone on vacation in winter, when no one else could interrupt their time. Just the two of them. Medic had turned his chair towards the heaving waters, bundling himself up in a thick, bear-skin blanket.
The tray with their glasses sat snuggly upon a wicker table, nestled between their two chairs. Heavy sank his weary body into the bigger of the two seats, folding his arms across his big belly. He hadn’t lost his strength in retirement, but he had certainly gained some weight that he was loath to part with. Especially now, as it kept him warm where he sat, dressed in little more than slippers and pajamas. The wind slowly began to pick up as the storm reached their porch, whipping up his beard and Medic's hair into a frenzy.
Medic looked up once Heavy had sat down, eyeing him with a small smile. “Hello, Shatz. You took your time.”
Heavy chuckled. “I was looking for… something special, luchik. It’s our anniversary, after all.” Medic’s smile was enough to brighten the skies by itself. Despite the rising winds, his forelock curled handsomely upon his forehead, falling just short of his glacier blue eyes. Heavy could not help the smile that split his own lips, his eyes growing soft as he continued to observe his partner.
“You are wunderbar, Schatz.” Saying so, Medic reached for the glass closest to him. The golden letters on the body of the flute read his name, the one he had chosen on the day of their wedding. Pressing the thin lip of the glass to his mouth, he took a slow sip, closing his eyes to savour the taste.
“O negative, sweet, with a hint of chocolate,” Medic sighed. “Oh, love. I thought we were all out of your blood.”
Heavy picked up his own glass, the word ‘Mikhail’ staring back at him in perfect, shimmering lettering. “I saved a bag for just this occasion.” He took a long, slow gulp of his blood, warm and thick liquid sliding down his throat in rivulets. It was a more savoury flavour, a recent favourite of his he had discovered on vacation.
“You’re amazing,” Medic whispered, reaching across the gap between their chairs, and grasping Heavy’s hand in his.
“To 100 years, my husband,” Heavy purred, squeezing his hand.
“And to an eternity more.”