Keep doing it without me


He held his hand, trying not to crush it. Never before had the other man felt so brittle. Never before had he felt so strong. He hated it. It was all in comparison.


He tried to at least smile, because that was what the man beneath him was doing. As he looked down, he realized how ageless his friend looked. They were the same age, yet for some reason the other didn’t look young, didn’t look old. He just looked.


He would have kissed him, but then he wouldn’t be able to talk. More than anything, he needed to hear his friend talk.

A rasping breath. A smile. “Just… keeping doing it. Without me. Okay?”

He agreed, because he’d never been able to deny his love anything.

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