"Breathe." He reminded himself quietly, staring at the beautiful figure across the room. Golden-blond locks tumbled over troubled turquoise eyes as the figure hunched over the desk, scribbling away with a black quill.

He wanted so much to walk to that figure, embrace it, smooth away the marks of pain that were so painfully obvious to himself yet seemed oblivious to others. He wanted to press those lips against his in an endless kiss, one filled with passion and desire and, above all else, an undying, unquenchable love. He wanted to disrobe that figure, run his hands over the taunt chest muscles. But most of all, he wanted those long arms wrapped around him like a blanket to ward off the chill of loneliness and despair.

It would never happen. It could never happen. How does one tell another boy that you love him? That your nights are filled with ceaseless dreaming? That your love knows no bounds, and you want to just be with him, even if you can't have him?

He bit his lip, and sighed, and turned away. Turned back towards his long nights of restless longing and hopeless despair.


"Breathe." A voice whispered into his ear, at the same time a finger poked gently into his side. He started in surprise and came out from his reverie, smiling into those turquoise eyes, no longer troubled.

"I'm just awestruck that you'd chose me." He whispered, shivering at the feel of the cool air on his bare flesh. The finger was withdrawn but the hand remained, resting on his hip, the other snaking up to brush his long, loose locks from his face. Without a thought, he leaned closer and claimed those soft lips as his own. Both enjoyed the soft tenderness, underlied with a passion so fiery that it seemed it would melt them both.

When they broke off, there was a slight chuckle.
"I never dreamed you could return what I felt, you know." The voice is warm and lighthearted.
"I'll always love you." He replies without hesitation. "Beyond death, even."
"Now's not the time to talk of death." He is reminded sharply. "We're too young, we'll never die." A roguish smile, then he's drawn in closer, pressed against a warm chest for another kiss.


"Breathe..." he whispers, staring down. Down at the pale, composed face, the face that haunts his dreams and his waking hours. "You've got to breathe..." he murmurs.

When had it been said? "We're too young, we'll never die"? How long ago? Only a month? The best month of both their lives. The only month of love and warmth and sharing that they'd both had. A month of pure, unadulterated happiness. Happiness that they'd been denied for years, happiness that filled them both to the brim and had brought them to the edge of bliss.

And now it was gone, obliviated by darkness. Despair washed over him. Alone again; alone as always. Was their no pity in the gods? What had he done to deserve this? Deserve the loneliness and the loss?

Was it something he'd done? Was he the reason that his golden love lay now, so quiet and still? What cursed luck followed him, destroying his happiness, killing those he loved? The gods' own curses seemed to follow him, and now, for his love, he'd let the man who owned his heart die. 'Twould have been better to have loved him from afar, to have his love unreturned, than to have had that brief hope that love could survive.

He leaned over those still lips, murmuring, "Breathe, you've got to breathe, you can't leave me alone. Breathe..."

A/N: Um... I don't know. It just sort of wrote itself. I guess this could be any two guys from any fanfiction universe. Fill in whoever you want.