Author's webpage: http://members.aa.net/~bluecham/

Author's disclaimer: I don't own Jim, Blair, or anybody else in this story. Paramount and Petfly do.

A Lovers' Farewell

It was still that night on the roof as they gazed over the water, no breeze, no sound of waves. They'd sat up here, done this same thing, hundreds of times over the years; it was commonplace, even banal--except tonight.

"You'll be gone by the time I get home," the younger man said.

"You know that's the plan. There's no other way--I wish there was. I wish..."

"Not much point in wishing, is there," the younger man said, his blue eyes dry, but his voice choked. "Not much point now. You've made sure of that."

"There was no other way," the taller man repeated, anguish, longing, the desperate need for understanding from his idealistic young companion thick in his hushed tones. "No other way to be sure. I have to know you'll be safe."

"I am safe with you--I'm only safe with you!" The younger man whirled away, rising to pace carefully away a few steps, then let his shoulders slump and murmured "You've always protected me, always. No one knows yet. No one's known for the last year. Why should that change?"

"Because we're changing. We're getting careless. I'm getting careless! And it's my responsibility--I'm the one who's supposed to know better! If I can't trust myself, then you can't trust me--to keep us secret, or to keep you safe. I have some measure of power, because of who I am now. But do you have any idea what could happen to you? I don't have to explain that to you! If we were caught it would be the end of everything you value in life, until--"

"That won't happen! Why do you have to...have to go away for so long? Why did you have to make it so we...so I couldn't see you for--God, Jim, why this way? Don't you love me the way I do you any more?" His voice broke.

Jim couldn't stand it; he approached the smaller man and took his shoulders, turning him, folding him close. "You know I do. I hope you'll always love me, and you know I'll always love you. But this can't happen. The world just won't accept it."

"I don't give a damn about the world!"

"I know. But the world gives a damn about you--about us. You're too recognizable. So am I. Do you want everything you've always dreamed of for your life taken away because of this one...this one--"

"This one love of a lifetime? Jim, please--don't do this. Don't report in tomorrow. Don't let them take you away from me for years. We can both leave, we've both got resources no one can touch. We can go where no one we know--no one--will ever find us..." he broke down, clutching at the older man; Jim's expression was a study in sorrow, giving the lie to his thoughts. He buried his face in Jim's shoulder; he knew what he asked was impossible, and he knew why. "Jim, please," he whispered brokenly, one last time. "I don't want to live without you. I love you."

"I love you too, more than anything--" he pulled the smaller man's chin up for a fierce, passionate kiss, mouths opening, lips pressing, stroking, tongues thrusting desperately together, for long moments; then Jim slowly, gently disengaged them. "And that's why this is the only way. I...can't stop needing you--you know how much. So like I said before...I can't trust myself. And really--this is no good for you, I'm no good for you, you deserve to be with someone who--"

"Will you stop worrying about what I deserve and start thinking about what I want? Please, Jim!"

"Shhh..." Jim pulled the head of waving brown hair back to his shoulder, stroking soothingly. "Shhh, now...you know it's too late to change our minds. It's all been set up. If anyone questions it--we had a fight, you betrayed my trust, and I took off in a huff, sure there was nothing left for me here after what you'd done. But I've made sure it's safe for you to stay--you know you'll want for nothing--"

"Except you," the young man whispered.

"Oh, God..." Jim was silent for a long moment as they embraced tightly, trying to bury themselves in each other, lose themselves in each other. They both knew that whatever came later, however they managed to come together afterward--years afterward--it could never be the same. They would have to keep up the pretense. No one could know, not even their most trusted friends. No one.

It would be better just to make sure they never came together again, Jim thought. But he didn't voice the conviction. The first year or two, before the hurt began to be less raw, might be easier for his love if he believed in the possibility of their reuniting. "I love you," Jim whispered. "Always. My first real love. I hope you always love me, but...this is the only way to be sure you have the chance to love someone else. You know we can't be. You know it."

The softly shaggy head nodded slowly against his muscled shoulder.

They were still another few moments.

Then Jim whispered "It's getting light. You'd better go in; he'll be coming for you soon."

Another nod; the young man was motionless otherwise.

"When you get back, it won't be so hard. You'll see."

One more nod, even more dispirited than the last. "I'll...I'll think of you, every night. I'll think of...of touching you, loving you...sharing things with you I'll never be able to share with anyone else. Think of me, sometimes?"

"Every day," Jim whispered, and bent his head for a final, gentle, clinging kiss. "Go on. Remember I love you."

"I will." They separated slowly, blue eyes trained hopelessly to blue. Finally the young man turned and hurried away.

Jim stood still, staring into the empty space where the best friend--the most loyal companion of his young and pain-filled life--had vanished.

"Goodbye, Stephen," he whispered.