Yes! Yes they can! Sasha isn't even the slightest bit unhappy with this, he's still way too sore for anything other than cuddling and conversation. 

Lev is cuddling naked with a hot guy who is explaining something to him, and is therefore the happiest person in the world.

He's so cute. 

At some point, though, Sasha is going to fall asleep, and right before he does he tucks his face into Lev's shoulder and murmurs "I love you." 

The problem is that it's so close to the thing he wants. 

Lev spent the day at the Met with a smart, funny, kind, extremely sexy guy who taught him how to look at art and see beauty, and they couldn't have sex because yesterday Lev had fucked him sore, and they were going to fall asleep naked in each other's arms, and he just told Lev he loved him--

Except that all of it is as real as the Santas and elves in a mall Christmas decoration. 

It's late. It was a long day. He doesn't have the energy to go to the bathroom or to shove down his feelings. He cries, quietly, into Sasha's shoulder.  

— He's awake. 

"Are you okay," he says, very soft, puts a hand on Lev's back. 

"Please. Please don't say that."

"Okay," he says, "okay — can I ask why not, or — do you want me to stay here or should I sleep on the couch —" 

"No! --I mean. If you want to sleep on the couch you should but I like having you here."

"Because I love you," he doesn't add.

"Okay. Okay, I'm staying. I l—like being near you, just wanted to make sure you'd be okay." He's cradling Lev now, one hand on his back and the other on the back of his head. 

"I'm sorry, I don't want to-- to upset you or to make you think I don't like you a lot or you don't make me happy or anything, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

(Sasha doesn't know he's set for life. Sasha thinks if he upsets Lev he might be homeless.)

"I'm not upset. I'm a little bit worried about you but I'm not upset. I'm staying, I've got you." 

"It's-- fine. Honestly. Just... don't say that and I'll be okay? And it doesn't-- mean anything about my feelings for you, it's just a weird personal issue."

"Okay. I won't." He pets Lev's hair. 

He wants to say "I love you too."

He feels a pain in his chest because of how much he wants to say it. It feels like the words might escape his lips if he opens his mouth too wide.

He bites his tongue hard and tastes blood.

He doesn't know what Lev is trying to hold back but he can feel the way Lev tenses up. He's so so gentle with him. 

I love you, he doesn't say. "I've got you, I'm here," he says. 

"I." He pauses. "Nobody has ever said that to me before. I mean that's not strictly true but it's basically true?"

There. That's plausible and it's not a lie and Sasha will think he knows why it bothers Lev and won't say it and won't think it's his fault.

He keeps petting Lev's hair. "I'm so sorry." 

"We should go to sleep." Before he's tempted to say it.

"Okay." He relaxes, keeps a hand on Lev's hair. Closes his eyes; doesn't manage to fall asleep just yet. 

He doesn't go to sleep for a very long time.

Yeah. That makes sense. 

They go to the MoMA, to the Guggenheim, to the Natural History Museum. They go home; Sasha vetoes a repeat of the flight there, on the basis that being able to walk is nice and he'd like to continue it. They settle back into their routine. 

They spend lots of time on the library; they watch more movies than Sasha's ever had time for. He bakes. He cooks things that are not baked, occasionally. (Hot buttered was one of Malcolm's recipes and it doesn't matter, Sasha likes them, he can't fucking take that — he drinks them with Lev and makes new, better memories.) 

Winter becomes spring and wet-and-grey becomes wet-and-green and Sasha tries out half-remembered hamentaschen recipes. He has enough time to go outside, now; he gets to climb trees again. 

They take more trips, to Paris and London and Washington DC and Amsterdam and Berlin. He was going to minor in art history before he dropped out, but he doesn't have to worry about being able to find a job in his field anymore; if he ever goes back he's going to major in it.

They have kind of a lot of sex. Lev takes his clothes off sometimes, or at least his shirt, but he still doesn't want Sasha to touch him. Sasha doesn't, doesn't pry; if Lev wants him to know then he'll say and if he doesn't then he won't. 

Lev keeps thinking that this is it, there is no way he could possibly fall more in love with Sasha, and then he does.

He learns about why you shouldn't say abstract art could be done by a two-year-old (although he is still privately suspicious that many of the pieces could be done by a competent interior designer). They go for long walks through Central Park and snuggle and have a picnic. He does not succeed in his argument that they should go to the store full of M&Ms. He's fine about not doing that again on a plane but he definitely gives Sasha as many orgasms as possible some other times. (It usually doesn't make Lev come.)

He has someone to talk to about books and movies. He eats the things Sasha bakes. He climbs trees with Sasha. They go on walks. They travel. 

It makes him feel so so happy whenever Sasha smiles. 

Lev tells Sasha that he should definitely go back to school and major in art history. He is happy that in a few months Sasha is going to be able to do whatever he wants. 

He never liked art much before. He won't lose that much once Sasha leaves. 

They have kind of a lot of sex. Lev tries to remember Sasha's face, his hands, his genitals, to fix them in his mind for once Sasha is gone. He feels guilty about making Sasha look at him but it's so nice to rest his chest against Sasha's back that he does it anyway sometimes. 

Sometimes Lev goes hours, or even a day, thinking that he has a boyfriend whom he's in love with, and they can make plans for the future and have stupid injokes and they don't have to rush to fit anything in because they are going to be together forever-- if they don't see the movie this week, no big deal, they have years-- and he'll never have to fall asleep without Sasha in his arms ever again.

The days get longer; the nights get warmer; Sasha drags Lev outside to watch the stars. They go to planetariums, to Armstrong Redwoods; they stay in and watch all of Lev's favorite movies and all of Sasha's favorites too. 

He turns twenty-four in April and starts thinking about the wedding in May — maybe he should wait for his eggs to hatch before he counts those chickens, but they've been together this long. Neither of them has friends or family they want to invite and it's been a long time since Sasha thought getting married was in the cards for him at all but it would be nice to do something, even if it's just for the two of them. 

Lev learns to identify constellations. He is aggressively opposed to appreciating nature but he enjoys going on long walks and talking to Sasha in a more pleasant-looking environment. His favorite movies are Wrath of Khan and Galaxy Quest, Up and Toy Story,  Mad Max: Fury Road and Plan Nine from Outer Space.

He doesn't mention much about his family, but Sasha can put together that he bounced between a bunch of different families, that the family he was with as a teenager was homophobic and anti-Semitic and Christian fundamentalist, and that he does not like thinking about his birth family at all. 

Lev tries to bake Sasha a cake for his birthday and almost sets fire to the house.

Edith successfully makes him a cake the day after his birthday. It has six layers and is rainbow and most of it goes home with Edith to her family. 

Lev has no idea Sasha is thinking about the wedding.

He doesn't ask about any of Lev's families. He doesn't especially want to talk about his family either and they'd been — not fine but certainly not foster-care bad. 

But as May ends and June begins and the six-month mark comes ever closer he does mention to Lev, when they're in bed but not asleep yet, "It's been more than five months."