Work Text:
One Last time
by Spikesgirl58
He stood at the window and gazed out at the skyline. Christ, he loved this place. It was in his blood, in his heart. And now he was being ripped from here to a land he had no desire to see again.
Worse, he was being taken from his love. He’d been searching his whole life for something like this, something this pure and this unique. When they made love, it was if the entirety of the world was made just for them. And now this… it just wasn’t fair.
He laughed, sharp and brittle, thinking back to something his father used to tell him every time he fell and didn’t have the energy to climb back to his feet.
“Life isn’t fair, boy; get used to it. Take it and make it yours; that’s how you make it pay. Now get to your feet!” And Papa would knock him down again. Until the day that he got good and fed up and refused to go down. He’d never seen Papa look prouder.
And he’d never been prouder than the night he took his lover for the first time, claiming his prize and seeing the love reflecting back at him in hazel eyes. He heard his name being called with such reverence, such passion that it made the simple act of having sex become so much more.
He sighed and watched the glass grow foggy from his breath. It was cold outside, but not as cold as it was inside his heart.
A few more minutes, a heartbeat, a lifetime.
They’d said their goodbyes last night, knowing neither of them would be strong enough to face them now. One last night together, one last time to try and express everything in their hearts and heads.
He drew their initials in the condensation and wondered if someone else would be standing here one day, breathe against the glass and see them. See them and wonder who had left this mark.
“Life isn’t fair, boy!” His father’s voice rang in his head as did the cries of his lover. Where would he ever find anyone like… anyone as kind… anyone as giving… He turned, ready to flee. Abruptly, a loudspeaker cracked to life and he caught his breath, a shaft of fear lancing through him.
“Полет 32 в Ð�ью-Йорке в наÑ�тоÑ�щее времÑ� интернат!” Flight 32 for New York now boarding.
No last time…
end