He'd have thought all the visual reminders of Dom would be painful. But they weren't. Perhaps it was because they'd never been a couple here...Sean's memories weren't tainted with anything more than friendship. Or maybe he was finally moving on. Scary thought. He didn't know if he was ready. He wondered if Karl had any problems looking around and seeing what was lost, what would never be again. It had to be harder for him, even though he and Dom never made any lasting commitment. They were still practically best friends during the shoot, still lovers for more than a year. And Karl was still living the same house he'd shared with Dom. Was it killing Karl to be there? Cause staying in the house he'd shared with Dom was killing Sean. He couldn't bring himself to move out, though. Couldn't bear to make that final break. Even over a year later, it still wasn't right. Dom should be here. They'd talked often enough of coming back, of surfing at the beach, visiting their old pub, going back to the old filming sites. Just to see it again, just to breathe the pure air, take in the majestic, serene beauty of the place. It had been an experience unlike anything any of them had ever had before or since. It felt weird, wrong, to be here alone. Billy and Viggo had both offered, more than once, to fly out with him. And Sean could have taken them up on it, possibly should have. But he really felt this was something he needed to do alone. There was something he needed to do. And someone he needed to see. Karl. Karl, who was probably suffering more than anyone else, except for Dom's family and Sean. Karl, who had to deal with the loss every day by himself, thousands of miles away from the very people Dom had loved best. Karl, who'd stayed with Sean for the first few horrible weeks, helped him pack up Dom's things, held him while he cried, made him get out of bed when he felt like sleeping forever. Sean didn't know how he could have ever made it through that first month without Karl and Viggo prodding him into action. Remembering stilled his feet, chilled his heart. He didn't want to go back, didn't want to remember. There were some memories he would give almost anything not to have. But, then, he'd give anything at all to have Dom still here with him, holding his hand and dragging him along to place after place, low voice vibrating with excitement as he reminisced about this place or that day of shooting. Sean had learned one year, four months, two weeks and three days ago that wishing meant nothing. He stopped, inhaled, breathed in the clear air, calmed his thoughts, twisted the simple gold band around his finger. He couldn't see Karl while he was still in this emotionally raw place. He needed to be strong to do this. He could cry later. He was so tired of crying. * * * Karl's house was still the same, still had the chipped, light green paint on the exterior, the same thatches of roses growing carelessly in climbing vines along the porch, the same little plot of earth that held Karl's herb garden. Sean remembered so many nights at this place, so many dinners with him and Dom and Billy and Viggo and the others. Remembered how happy Dom had been in this house. Remembered how free and open and easy everything had been. They'd all lived in a bubble for almost 15 months. And Sean knew, if he had the chance, he would go right back to this place, to that time when they had all been together. Before he and Dom had even thought about getting together. Sean would willingly give up everything that came later, all of the joy, all of the laughter...he'd give up every day, every night, every moment, all of it, if it would bring Dom back. But he knew nothing would. And he also knew that it was time to move on. Whether he was ready or not. His knock on Karl's door was hesitant, small. Karl had left England over a year ago and Sean hadn't seen him since. Talked to him on the phone, emailed, yes. But he knew he hadn't been ready to face Karl and was pretty sure Karl felt the same way. It was time to change that. Hazel eyes framed by wire-rimmed glasses widened in surprise and welcome as Karl opened the door. Sean just stood there, jolted by the tangle of emotions ripping through him -- sorrow, love, yearning, grief. Only with Karl did he feel all of these. "Sean." Karl continued to look at him, knuckle-white hand gripping the doorknob, whipcord lean body coiled like a spring. Sean should have called first. He knew that, even as he knew he would have never had the courage to do this if he'd called. "Are you going to let me in?" Sean's soft question seemed to awaken something in the other man. He jerked a bit, shook his head and pulled Sean to him, embracing him. And it was so good, so nice to feel those arms around him again, so nice to smell Karl's almost cinnamon scent. So close to Dom's embrace, yet different enough to be uniquely Karl. Karl drew back, smiling. "It's good to see you," he said, simply. "Come in." Still the same messy, lived-in place, Sean observed. The same worn sofa, the same battered table in the dining room, the same grey carpet on the floors. Sean could practically see Dom on the sofa, beer in hand, cheering madly at the telly with Billy as his beloved ManU Devils scored a goal. "What's wrong?" Sean looked up -- Karl was standing in front of him, a frown creasing that perfect face. "Just remembering happier times." Karl nodded. "He always loved being here, for some odd reason. Probably because I had the bigger telly." "How do you do it?" Suddenly, the answer seemed so important. Maybe, perhaps, if he could just figure out how Karl grieved, then maybe his own grief would start to make more sense. "I just do." Karl looked out over the living room, lost in thought. "I cope by living my life, by working, by remembering happier times. He still lives for me." Tears pooled in Sean's eyes, but he blinked a few times, willed them not to fall. Not yet, not now. He still had something to do. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm here." "Maybe a bit. You're alone?" Sean nodded. "Billy and Vig offered, but..." "Well, if you needed to be on your own, I'm sure they understood." "How've you been? You look good." Small talk, but it was true. Karl's natural elegance seemed more refined, his focus a little more relaxed. He looked at peace. Sean still wondered what peace was. Hoped he could find it soon. "I've been good. Working -- Harry's new movie, a couple of TV shows, got offered a part in the new Spiderman movie, debating it." Karl shrugged off the idea of Hollywood -- it had been yet another thing he and Dom had in common -- the utter dismissal of fame. "Well, if the script is good and the money is right..." Sean's voice tapered off. He wasn't here to talk about the job. He knew it. Karl knew it. It was time. "I...uh..." Deep breath, Sean, you can do this, just reach in your pocket and take it out. "I need to give this to you." Karl looked at the ring in Sean's hand for an eternity -- beautiful features flickering with too many emotions for Sean to count. Hesitantly, Karl reached out, traced the Elvish lettering around the simple white gold band. "What does it say?" Sean asked. Hazel eyes blinked at him, startled. "You don't know?" "I never asked. It was between you and Dom." "Oh." Karl seemed to consider that for a moment. "Well, that's the Horn of Rohan," he finally said, tracing the small engraving on one side. "Here it says `Squires of the Mark.' And here on the inside are our names in Elvish. I gave it to him on our last night together. How..." he cleared his throat as he picked up the ring, rolling it between his fingers. "How did you come by this?" "Dom always wore it on a chain around his neck." "He did?" "Yeah. He wore the ring I gave him on his finger and that one on a chain. Never took either off." "I..." Karl sank onto the sofa, still staring at the ring in his hand. "Christ." "I thought you should have it back." Words suddenly seemed so horribly inadequate to the raw grief on Karl's face. Sean wondered if this was what everyone saw when they looked at him. No wonder people were so uncomfortable in his presence these days. Damp lashes lifted to reveal eyes filled with tears. "Thank you." "I -- well, I was going to...um..." Sean swallowed, but the words came easier than he thought "...bury him with them, but I couldn't do it. I meant to give yours back to you at the funeral." Sean sat beside Karl, watched him. Still so beautiful, so bright. So like Dom in so many ways -- in his honesty, his loyalty, his open and freely given love -- yet different, as well. And the differences were just as beautiful, just as precious. Sean could admit that now. Time to say the rest of what he'd flown here to say. "I miss him. Every day, every minute. Sometimes so much I can't breathe 'cause I'm choking in pain. I had so little time with him and I wanted a whole lifetime. I didn't want this." "I know you didn't. None of us did." "But I think about you occasionally, and I think about that night." Sean stopped. Say it. Just say it, take the next step. "And I wonder." "Wonder what?" Karl asked. He wiped tears away with the tips of his fingers, smudging his glasses a little. Sean found the sight endearing in a way he wouldn't have expected. It made his next words easier. "If this was what Dom wanted." "What are you talking about?" "Karl, I felt him that night. Saw him. He was in the room." "Oh, Sean..." Karl reached out a hand, but Sean shook his head. He wasn't ready yet. He'd shatter. "And I think that maybe Dom was trying to tell me something." "Tell you what?" Courage, Sean. This was right. Dom would have wanted this. "That we were supposed to find each other." Karl shook his head. "I don't think..." "No, just listen. Nothing is going to bring him back. I know this. I accept it, even though I hate it. But I thought it then..." Sean stopped, collected his thoughts. Looked into lovely hazel eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses in that beautiful face. And found the strength he thought he'd buried with Dom on that summer's day. "I thought it then...and I think it now, that if you were with me, then living might not be so bad." "Christ, Sean." Sean saw a glimpse of tears shimmering behind those glasses before Karl's arms crushed him in a desperate embrace. And now it was okay, now he could have those arms around him. Sean could feel Karl trembling under his hands, could feel Karl's tears, hot on his neck. He closed his arms around Karl, squeezed, let his own tears fall. "I'm still not whole," he said, voice low against the other man's ear. "I don't think I'll ever be whole. But, with you, the pain is less. With you, I'm mended." Karl's only answer was to shake harder, pull Sean in closer to him. Sean could feel the tears trailing on his skin, faster now. Sean held him for awhile, comforted him, let their tears dry. And pulled back, willed Karl to understand his next words. "I need you to kiss me. Like you did that night." And, without hesitation, Karl pressed his lips to Sean's and it was Dominic's kiss, full of laughter and light, full of joy and wonder. Soft, yielding, hesitant, playful. Sean could almost feel Dom's slender arms around him, feel that hot breath tickling his neck, smell the clean, pure scent of him, of home. Here was love and laughter and memories. And this kiss was like saying goodbye. Tears shimmered in his eyes when he lifted his head, tracing the sculpted cheekbones, the strong jaw of Karl's face. "Now kiss me again." It was a request, a gentle command. "But this time, I want just you. Just Karl." Night and Day. The contrast was unbelievable. Now the kiss was firm, now the lips were a little more aggressive, a little more assured. The tongue sliding against his was hot, so hot...Sean was melting under Karl's mouth, melting in Karl's arms. Here was passion, when Sean had never thought to feel it again. Here was hunger he'd thought died with Dom. Bright and glorious and cleansing and so hot it burned -- it was a kiss that touched some unknown part of Sean's soul he didn't even know was missing. Neither spoke when the kiss ended -- just continued to sit, chests heaving, foreheads touching, lips raw from each other. Sean tried to collect his thoughts, to remember the rest of what he was going to say, but thinking was a difficulty. He just wanted to slide into Karl's kiss again and forget the world. Karl pulled his head back, loosened the fingers in Sean's hair. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." "Don't." Sean stopped him with a sharp shake of his head. "No more regrets. I am never feeling regret again. If his death taught me anything, it's taught me that." "Alright." Karl was silent for another minute, but his fingers moved back to play with blond strands of hair curling around Sean's ears. "So, now what?" "I don't know." Sean honestly had no ideas past this moment, but it was enough for him that Karl was sitting right there, so close, so real. "I was hoping I could stay here for awhile and we could see." "Sounds like a lovely plan." Karl was smiling when he kissed Sean this time and Karl's almost cinnamon taste coursed through him like the finest wine. "I did love him, Sean," Karl continued, when he drew back. "I love him still. And I love you, both for the joy you brought him and for who you are. But this," and here Karl took Sean's left hand, laced their fingers together, rubbed the tip of one over the gold band on Sean's third finger, "this needs to be about us. I can't bring Dom back for you. Or for me." Sean squeezed Karl's hand. "I know. And it's not about that. Really, it's not. I know who you are, Karl." It seemed to be enough because Karl just nodded. "We'll go as slow as you want with this." Sean had a feeling Karl was going to say that. And he was actually prepared for it. "That's fine too," he said, his gaze direct. "I'd like time to explore you." Karl's eyes darkened a bit. "Careful. I'm only a man here." "As am I. But you were right the day you told me I needed to start living for myself and Dom. And I'm ready to do it." He stood, helped Karl stand. And hugged fingers still twined in his, smiling at the look in Karl's eyes. The next part was also easier than he thought it would be. It helped that he didn't take his eyes off of Karl as he brought their hands up, worked the gold band off of his ring finger, placed it on his right hand. The widow's hand. Karl watched him with a mixture of joy and grief on his face. "Sean, you don't..." Sean squeezed Karl's hand. "Hush. I do. We do. Your bedroom is still that way, yes?" he asked, tilting his head in the direction of the hallway. "Sean..." "I said hush." He willed Karl to understand, was sure he would. Karl was like that, Karl knew him, knew all the things he couldn't say, in the things he did. "I'm sure. Just you. Just me. No ghost. I'm positive he would want this." And was rewarded with acceptance in hazel eyes. "You're right. He would," Karl said. Sean smiled. "Bedroom?" Karl pointed. "That way." He paused, throat working. "Just...one more thing." "Make it quick. I want you naked and under me as soon as possible." The hot light in Karl's eyes was a reward in itself. "I promise you now that I will do my best to make you happy." Sean stroked his hand along Karl's cheek, smiled back. "I promise the same." It was enough.
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