by Tirinar
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Disclaimer -Paramount owns 'em all, except the story which is mine.

Notes - This is the sequel to the short I posted a while back, 'Not That Guy'. Dedicated to Temaris, for nagging me, and in the hopes that I get the rest of my Bribe.

Feedback - PLEASE!! No Flames please, I already have a toaster.

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3 weeks.

3 weeks since he told me.

3 weeks of looking into those blue eyes and seeing the love for me he can't disguise, pooled in their icy depths. He doesn't even try to hide his feelings. Why should he? Because its tearing me apart? Or because there's something about him that makes me. . . makes me want to return it? That I'm afraid of?

I can't help feeling this way over him. I know he loves me, but isn't it wrong? Wrong to feel that way for another guy? I ask myself every night if I truly believe that. Truth be told. I don't. I can't ever believe Tom would set out to hurt me. He's good, and pure. He'd never hurt me. I know that every time I look into his eyes. And some part of me revels in that. That part is growing every day, and nothing I can do will stop it.

Last night I was dreaming. I dreamt he held me in his arms, and kissed me. I dreamt of bringing him to me, holding him next to me. I dreamt of everything I think is wrong. And it all felt so right.

What is happening to me? My Universe just got turned upside down by my best friend. Now I can't think straight. And every time I think that a smile comes across my face. That's just Tom Paris.

Everything I do now revolves around him. Everything I plan has him in mind. Every minute of the day I know where he is. It worries me and doesn't, at the same time. Everything is happening to me at the same time.

My words come back to haunt me, after the dreams. I told him I wasn't who he thought I was, that I wasn't interested in guys or him.

But am I?

Am I the guy who wants to hold his best friend in his arms, and never ever let him go?

Am I the guy who wants to kiss his best friend into oblivion, until neither of us know who we are, what we are, only that we have each other, always? That we are one?

Do I want forever with Thomas Eugene Paris?

Do I want to spend forever looking into those eyes, so blue you could lose yourself forever, drown in their depths, fall once and keep falling in love over and over with this man?

I. . . I don't know. Or do I.

So many questions, the answers so clear, that the only thing that seems to be lacking is my courage to admit them.

I know I want to be with him. I know I want to admit that to him. But do I have the strength for that? Am I brave enough to handle it?

One way to find out.

I lied, Tom, and I'm sorry.

I am too that guy.

I love you.

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End