The mid-morning sun was hot on his back, the air unbelievably still. Blackwater stretched lazily against his lover's back, wondering how they could have forgotten to tie down the mouth of the tent last night. After all, they hadn't been in -that- much of a hurry to wrap up in one another and drift into sleep... In fact, he thought, they'd simply fallen headlong into the light blankets and rugs nad held tight as Morpheus descended on them. Oh well, it wasn't that important. After all, it -was- nice to have light spilling over his shoulder, illuminating that lovely face.

A subtle -wrongness- flavored the air, each inhalation slightly oily and powdered with the dust of it. What could be -wrong-? Blackwater was here, his lover was here, and... The haircolor was right, the length of it was a little strange. Beej squinted at the fineboned face, which was pale as could be and... Was it shifting? Was it his imagination, or had the nose been a little different just a moment ago? And that- Surely the cheekbones had been slightly lower before he blinked.

He loved them, whoever they were. Of -that- he was absolutely certain. So, nothing could be wrong. He wanted to see him awake, see him smile, know that it was another day just for them, that nothing was going to keep them from -being- a 'them'. Nothing. So, with this desire blossoming in his heart, Beej set about figuring out how best to go about awakening the younger, slighter man.

There had to be some sort of template that his love had to fit... Conflicting images swooped through the trader's subconsciousness, builds and statures and faces being compared in the blink of an eye. Out of five, only four had heard him say The words that rose unbidden to his lips now.

"I love you..."

Out of four, only two had been astonished by the wonder of it. Out of four, only two had been so deserving, and out of four, only two had not expected, hoped, or dared dream of it. Out of two, only one had endured. Out of five, only two had not broken his heart. Out of two, only one had been stolen from him.

In the waking world, Blackwater held fast to the skinny young man beside him, feverish from dream and the sunlight that flooded the room, memories from long ago sparking against the screen that held them back. And, like sparks from a fire landing on vulnerable mesh, the screen began to melt.

The younger man hadn't stirred. Well, perhaps he was more deeply asleep than Beej had first thought. No matter, they had plenty of time to awaken, discover secrets all over again... The smooth column of the back of his beloved's neck was a tempting (not to mention handy) place to start, so he did. He licked a wide, lazy swath along the back of that neck, relishing the faint prickling of the short hairs at the nape against his tongue and lips, sliding his free hand along the back of one pale thigh to the bend of knee, then drawing it back again.