1 Week, 3 Days, 12 Hours, And 27 Minutes.

Gazing beyond the partially frosted-over, one-foot-by-one-foot pane of glass that provided him with a partial view of his departing lover, a young noirette exhaled thickly, leaving the frigid air before him thick with both longing and sorrow as he tentatively pushed his home's front door shut.  The action aided in closing out the rapidly descending snow as it fell in thick sheets, heaving gusts of chilly air up against each and every structure or being unfortunate enough to be positioned within its wrath.

He would have traded every last item, every last detail of his cozy, Colorado home, if the beautiful, deep-eyed man that he had referred to as his husband for what now neared three years would only have thought, just once, to bring his young lover along on the road when he was to depart as did now.

However, in any given case, Brian Elwin Haner Jr. was a travelling soul, and smitten, naïve Zacky Haner—formerly Baker—had known this from the very moment that the two of them had crossed paths.

No matter the stark reality of the situation, though, each and every time that his husband was forced to place a hold on his personal life and leave home for the sake of the job title that he held, Zack hoped that maybe, just maybe, the scenario would play out differently; even if only for a single moment in time.

Despite the young man's wishes over the lethargically progressing months, however, things between himself and Brian never quite failed in remaining just the same.  The youngest of the pair was always and inevitably left to question whether or not the love that he so constantly gave to his mate would eventually come to be something of enough worth to sway Brian—to convince him to give up his job title and stay at home with Zack.

And, in stark contrast to his devoted lover, the elder would always and inevitably pack his necessities, and retreat into the night, leaving the dim glow of his battered old truck's taillights through the tiny house's window pane as the only answer to Zacky's frequently pondered question.

Throughout his husband's repetitive abandonments, though, the noirette's nightly stream of prayers had never once ceased; he had never once given up hope entirely.

Even now, as the thick body of Brian's truck assumed that finalizing position, aligned parallel with the road's edges—as the bronze-skinned beauty turned toward him, flashing what would be the last that Zacky saw of that trademark, heartwarming smile that he adored so much—the porcelain-skinned, kindhearted man hoped.

Perhaps the notion of hope was nothing beyond blind optimism, but as far as Zack was concerned, it was far better than nothing at all.

After all, the young man saw no need within himself to worsen the sinking emotions that he felt toward Brian's leaving, even as the slightly more masculine of the pair had certainly put him through more than a few ringers throughout the duration of their relationship.

Just like that day, so long ago…

- - -


The quieted noise of anxious fingers tapping against the surface of wood ricocheted steadily from wall to wall within the near vacant diner, and with each passing moment, sideways glances given by employees grew more and more sympathetic.

Each of them had asked the absentminded, green-eyed man several times over if he would yet like to order an item from their  menu, even if it be something small, merely to put aside the gurgling noises that his stomach proceeded to utter; however, each of the waiters' and waitresses' suggestions had been denied, as the man claimed that he was awaiting the arrival of a date.

The dark-haired male did appreciate the thoughtfulness of the men and women, as he had even received just a few pats to the shoulder in accompaniment to the sympathetic words and suggestions made by the diner's employees.

However, after a good amount of time, the kind words and gestures ceased entirely, leaving young Zachary Haner to solemnly dip his expressionless face into balmy hands, breathing a heavy sigh as just a few tears spilt onto his flushing cheeks.

It certainly wasn't unlike his new husband to arrive upon the scene of their planned interventions slightly late; in fact, it was quite a common factor, as well as one that Zack had become accustomed to.

But, by this point in time, he had sat upon the red-leather booth at which he was still positioned now since 8:00 p.m.—the time at which he and Brian had planned to meet—and currently, with the hollow ticking of an old, analog clock someplace nearby, the time of night rapidly neared midnight.  This hour was otherwise recognized as the Red Rock Diner's closing hour.

Just a few silent moments later, Zachary sensed the approach of a rather tall presence, and at once sucked a sharp rush of oxygen inward through clenched teeth, hastily straightening himself as his gaze snapped upward and just slightly to the left, fixing upon the silhouette approaching.

Additional moisture swelled and glazed over his stunning jade irises as he gradually came to realize that the leggy figure nearing his table fell far short of the tall, molten-eyed brunette that he had hoped and prayed for.  He sighed sorrowfully once more, diligently scrubbing at his boyish cheeks using balled up hands.

One of the many waitresses, clad in a deep red and tight fitting tee-shirt as well as a black pleated mini skirt half covered by a tiny white apron, gingerly placed a hand upon the distraught male's shoulder, her eyes deeply sympathetic.

The blonde curls framing her heart-shaped face crept languidly from the crevice created by her shoulder blades as she leaned slightly forward, tilting her head.  Her form momentarily shielded Zachary's eyes from the dim light radiating from one of the many oddly-shaped lamps hovering about the diner.

"Closing time, hun…" she drawled, her droningly kind southern twang foreign to Zack's ears. "You sure ya' don't want somethin' for the road?"

As the clearly upset, fairly newly married man once again dragged his solemn gaze upward to meet that of the pretty blonde, he nodded, offering the girl a particularly weak smile.

"Yes, I'm sure." he spoke hoarsely as he rose from his seat, lower extremities quivering just slightly from the lack of movement over the last four hours. "Thank-you for the offer though, once again…"

"Sure, hun.  I'm sorry ol' tall-dark-and-handsome didn't show. He mustn't be the smartest cookie in the box, I reckon; not many would've stuck around so long as you have." the young woman offered, shaking her head just slightly.  Zack found his smile widening ever so slightly as he analyzed her sparkling, though slightly bashful silver eyes.

The midnight-haired man knew well that the employees here had seen he and his husband here together countless before his lover had taken on this job title that he seemed to take so seriously.

Now fixing his gaze upon the woman's ID tag, hanging just off the hem of her small apron, he politely nodded. "Thanks… Gena." he mused, noting the subtle hint of scarlet color that crept along the waitress' prominent cheekbones as he gazed intently at her and uttered her name.

"Anytime, sweetie." she trilled, her smile rapidly taking on the same tinge of bashfulness that her eyes held as the man's startling green eyes pierced her heart.  "Anytime you need someone to talk to, come 'round this dingy ol' place.  I'm cooped up here 'bout six days a week from 5 o' clock to quittin' time."

Even as the doe-eyed waitress knew the rather adorable man before her to be married happily, as well as differently sexually oriented than most men of this town, she was unable to find much wrong in offering him a shoulder to cry on when he was in need of one.

Timidly biting down at his full lower lip, Zack nodded his thanks, smiling once again as he contemplated the girl's intentions.  Despite the hesitance weighing at the back of his mind, though, he nodded slowly, reaching into his back pocket to retrieve a pen before stepping toward the woman and holding the writing utensil out to her, as well as his left hand.

The waitress named Gena beamed as she took the pen from the green-eyed beauty, and grasped his hand gently, scrawling her name as well as a ten-digit phone number onto the back of his palm and then handing him back the ballpoint.

"Definitely will do." Zack murmured, tone soft as he turned on his heel, casting the girl one last sugar-sweet glance—as well as a subtle wink and a wave—over his shoulder. "Have a nice evening, ma'am."

As the worry-ridden, dark-haired man turned away from the young woman's smiling face and began striding toward the diner's exit, however, his smile instantly slivered and faded entirely as a sense of torrid guilt scorched through his veins.  Sighing, he furrowed his brows and continued sluggishly along his path, though once he had finally reached his tiny, aging hatchback, he unlocked the door and slumped into the driver's seat, once again dropping his head into his hands.

He shouldn't be flirting with waitresses; he was married, happily, to the love of his life.

And even though Zachary knew well that he was capable of attracting the attention of every man and woman in this town, he recognized better the fact that what he and Brian had, already, as a couple was like nothing he would ever stumble upon again.

- - -

A few ringers, indeed.

As that night, nearly two years prior to now, so suddenly crossed the noirette's mind, his shoulders slumped just slightly as he watched Brian's taillights fade and slowly vanish into the distance as the truck slowly rounded their street's corner.

He had never seen, nor spoken to the perky, blonde-haired waitress since that night, due to the guilt that he had felt for so carelessly allowing his better judgment to slip for those few brief moments.

That very sense of fault was what had led the lonesome and slightly younger Zachary to solemnly force himself into driving home, instantly detouring into the kitchen upon arrival and giving the best effort that he could to scrub the girl's phone number from the back of his hand.  Despite the fact that he never wanted to look at those ten particular digits again, there had still been some residue of his pen's ink upon the flesh of his hand—residue of his mistake.  

At this, he had stumbled warily back into the living room, curling into a shell of sorts upon the couch as he had arrived there, shedding countless tears both for Brian's absence and for what he saw as his own sheer stupidity, undoubtedly fueled by the ever-increasing sense of emptiness and loneliness that he felt.

Eventually, the sullen young man had fallen victim to exhaustion, several hours later awakening to the sight and sound of a visibly distressed Brian, who'd seemingly been attempting a quiet entrance into the small home that the couple shared.

As he had heaved his sleep-ridden form into a sitting position upon the couch, scrubbing at his bleary, swollen eyes, and as those deep, molten-chocolate eyes had fallen upon him, Zacky had instantaneously erupted into a fit of erratic sniffling, whilst gazing upon his lover.

The eldest of the couple had without a doubt been stunned, temporarily rendered speechless, as he had never seen his lover quite so upset; also, he had expected to return home to a rather furious Zachary Haner, and what awaited him then had undoubtedly seemed the exact opposite.

Upon seeing the smaller man in the distraught state that he had been in, Brian had rushed to his lover's side subsequent to tossing his worn suitcase toward the bottom of their house's only set of stairs, allowing Zacky to collapse weakly against his chest, very nearly sobbing.

After Zack had tearfully confessed to flirting with the woman named Gena at the diner and had hesitantly showed him the ink-stained sequence of numbers upon the back of his hand, the bronzed Adonis embracing him had scooped him up, cradling him securely within the confines of strong, tattooed arms.

All along the path toward their bedroom, where the two of them would settle down for a good night of snuggling and rest, Brian had deeply and repetitively apologized for everything that had gone on prior to his homecoming, reassuring Zack that he hadn't possessed even a speck of blame toward him for what had happened.

Yes, through thick and thin, Zacky hoped.  He had never, not since that estranged night so long ago, found it logical to question the love that he held for Brian, much less the love that Brian held for him.

'Just 2 and a half more weeks…'


- - -


"I know, beautiful.  I miss you, too." Brian gushed into the receiver of his aging mobile phone.  A warm smile graced the tattoo-adorned, bronze-skinned man's velvety thin lips at hearing Zack's voice on the other end of the line.  These small talks of theirs never failed to highlight each and every one of his days away from home.

However, that genuine smile faltered somewhat as his perked ears caught the quieted sound of his mate's exhalation; a lonesome and sorrowful huff of air, which made the state-to-state delivery driver's heart to melt around the edges in a reasonably guilt-ridden fashion.

"I hate when you're gone, Bri… I really do.  I love you so much, and I just wish…" Zacky spoke softly into his own telephone's receiver, eliciting a gentle nod of his lover's head.  Pondering his husband's unfinished sentence, the brunette could clearly see within his mind's eye the tears that had begun welling along the brims of the younger man's lids.  At the heart-wrenching mental image, Brian captured the moistened flesh of his thin lower lip between dual rows of captivating, pearl-white teeth.

He truly hated to leave his beloved so utterly empty, so completely alone within the tiny, heated shack that the both of them cherished as home; he did, after all, obtain a mutual feeling of vacancy whenever he and the porcelain-skinned beauty were forced to part ways.

In any case, thanks to his line of work as well as his own endlessly restless spirit, he had never been left with an extremely appealing variety of options.

Zacky had often told Brian, during the rougher patches of their relationship, that he had been a man born to run, to avoid all commitment, and that he was sure that this feature of his would never change.

Of course, along the first couple of instances, this had significantly hurt the taller man—enough to make him stop and think for a moment, at least.  

Soon enough, however, Brian had come to his senses, and had come to know this comment of his love's to be the true origin of his soul.

The midnight-eyed male loved Zacky with all of his heart and every speck of his being; he knew this as well as he knew the neighborhood in which he had grown up.

However, he had, on countless occasions, found that if he spent too long a time dwelling amongst one particular place, one particular town, that he would become easily restless and irritable — stir crazy, if you will.

The younger of the pair had once suggested that Brian bring him along on the road, but near instantly, the bulkier man had declined the offer; this had mostly been due to preferences the of Zacky's that Brian had been aware of at that time—a scarce few of those being the way that his petite counterpart adored their small, comfortable home in Colorado, as well as the way that he tended to become homesick so easily.

Nothing of Brian's continuous departures had had the slightest to do with the place in which he and his husband lived, however.  He cherished his home just as his lover did, albeit not for the same reasons.

"I love you too, baby boy…" the dark-eyed 28-year-old spoke, leaving Zack's unspoken wish unacknowledged, just as always.

Once again, an audible sigh could vaguely be heard through the phone's speaker, and Brian frowned deeply, allowing his eyes to drift upward as he lie on his back, head supported by a wadded-up hoodie, within the bed of his old truck.

Eyes scanning each and every shimmering star that lit the sky hovering about one of many Nevada truck stops, the delivery driver sighed.  The lights of Sin City shone brightly of the side of his vision as well, bleeding neon light into the blackened, distant expanse of kohl and navy blue, and easily reminding Brian of the night that he had come across his beloved—or rather, the night that his beloved had come across him.

Those eyes shone out so brightly, just like the stars…

- - -

        Worn black and white Nike tennis shoes treaded the worn, stone-and-sage-brush ridden terrain of the Nevada desert, leaving in their wake a trail a uprooted debris and miniature bursts of dry, kicked up soil.

The terribly bright neon lights of the notorious Vegas strip shone out luminously, some two, three miles back; the night was humid, and the lost soul being lead about an unknown path had begun to question why it was that he had left that good-time-and-gambling city so far behind him upon an estranged whim.

With an unopened Heineken in one hand and a near-empty bottle of tequila in the other, a young man known to friends as Brian Haner wandered along the edge of a vacant road, humming to himself merrily as he swung the tequila at his side forward and back continuously.

It wasn't as though he had meant himself to be lost among a world of cacti and sagebrush, even as he did have an odd habit of travelling wherever a new wind may have taken him; he had been in the city, taking shots and rambling about with dearest family one moment, and here the next.  He had no care for the more-than-likely possibility that his brother and father were out looking for him—after all, he was twenty-five.  He could fend for himself if it became absolute necessity to do so.

The torrid breeze washed over the skin of his neck, ruffling the strands of dark chocolate hair that had slipped from within the confines of a lazy ponytail.

Along with that breeze, though, came something that Brian hadn't particularly expected:  A dim glow illuminating that ancient, virtually massacred stretch of asphalt beside him, accompanied by the rumbling of an old-sounding engine.

Glancing briefly to his right as he again uncapped his encasing of tequila, the dark-eyed man smiled slightly, perhaps expecting his father's old, dead-beat truck; however, as the rim of the glass bottle he held was touched to his lips, his smile instantly vanished and was immediately replaced by a curious glimmer developing deep within the murky brown color of his irises.

The approaching vehicle wasn't quite the truck that he had expected, but still, it had begun to slow, as it gradually approached a baffled Brian.

At once, images of the low-class safety films involving a too-sinister-looking man and a beat-up old van, which stereotypically would have the phrase "free candy" painted onto its side, entered the bronze-skinned man's mind, and he snorted, instantly erupting into a fit of drunken giggles.  Surely, he'd like to see one of these men attempt to approach him from behind; he was no unsuspecting child.

As the 1974 Ford Pinto Hatchback came to a stop beside him, Brian downed the remainder of his tequila before flinging the intricately designed bottle aside and popping the cap off of his Heineken.

Afterwards, he turned on his heel, peering into the window of the vehicle beside him as its owner began rolling down the small pane of glass.  Soon afterward, his gaze locked onto the driver's.

For the duration of a second or two, in any case, the chocolate-eyed brunette was entirely convinced that his pulse had halted to a screeching stop within his veins; he wasn't entirely sure, though, if this was due to the way that the bright jade within this new man's irises flashed, or if he had indeed experienced a moment of true fear.

Straightening his posture after a moment or two, Brian blinked, mouth falling slightly ajar as the man in the car shot him a distinguishably shy sort of smile.

"Hey there, dude.  You… need any help?  Like—a ride somewhere, or something?" he asked in a quieted tone of voice, as that deep emerald color—a color nearly identical to that of the Heineken bottle he held in hand—flashed once again under the dim light of the stars above them.

Biting down tentatively at his lower lip before speaking, Brian shifted his beer bottle from one hand to the other.  After a moment, he shrugged, not sure of the answer that he was to give.

"I don't know—I mean, I've just been wandering, and drinking… a lot." he mused, then after tacking on a slightly goofy chuckle as a friendly smile graced his thin lips. "I was just down by the strip…"

As Brian spoke, the other man grinned and offered a slight of a nod before sighing lightly.  "Actually, that's where I came from just now…  Drowning my sorrows and all that wonderful jazz.  Gott'a twenty-four-pack in the back seat."

As this new, seemingly porcelain-made acquaintance of his spoke, Brian found himself smiling, and, again, in a very drunken fashion, laughing as well.  The stranger casted him yet another bashful sort of smile.

Drawing his slightly bleary, molten-chocolate gaze to meet that of the male seated in the car, the brunette tilted his head just slightly and smiled a crooked, toothy smile.

"So… since you're here… would you mind to much if I joined you?" he spoke suddenly, once again going off on a whim as the guise of his beautiful midnight eyes softened ever so slightly as he spoke.

The man gazing intently at him grinned, giving off a barely audible chuckle as he nodded, gesturing for Brian to come around and climb into the passenger's seat of the ancient car.  "I'm sure that can be arranged… you seem nice enough." he mused as he leaned over the passenger's seat to open up the door for his new friend.

Beaming as he tossed the Heineken bottle that he had barely made a dent in off into the distance behind him, the slightly larger man strode around the front of the Pinto, and soon enough seated himself comfortably within the car, pulling the door shut beside him as he settled in.  Turning toward the man to his left, he offered an ink-masked hand. "Thanks, dude." he spoke, the scent of expensive tequila and beer tainting his warmed breath as it swarmed the other man's nostrils. "I'm Brian Haner."

Shifting slightly within his seat, the green-eyed male nodded, smile brightening as he extended a hand as well, clasping Brian's within his own. "Zacky Baker, at your service."

The newly acquainted friends exchanged their brief handshake, and moments later Zack shifted the car back into the correct gear and began chugging on down the vacated road.

Brian bit his lip, however, laying the hand that Zack had shaken palm up over his right thigh and examining the skin.

The flesh now possessed an odd tingling sensation, as the brunette opened and closed his palm continuously. After a moment of further contemplation the tattooed and as he released a sigh thick with bewilderment, well-built older man gazed toward his green eyed friend.

It was then, however, that something deep inside of Brian popped before clenching up tight, temporarily blocking his airway and causing a lump to develop in his throat.  As the eccentrically clothed and slightly baffled man managed, finally, to exhale, it hit him.

Whether it be the alcohol, or a true sense of fondness, it was clear to him what it was that caused this sensation; it was Zack.

There was definitely something about this wondrous, mysterious stranger—and it was something that Brian liked.

- - -

It was at times, when memories such as these ensued, that that older of the two inevitably began to wish that he were able to change the man that he was—the man that he had become; at these times, he longed to be able to travel back in time, and place himself within the era in which he and Zacky had been something that very easily could've been considered the happiest married couple walking the face of the Earth.

It didn't seem so long ago, now, that Brian had spoken those four words to his lover, nor did it seem terribly distant that he had lovingly embraced Zacky upon receiving an answer, acting in the most cliché of fashions as he had held the clinging, green-eyed boy, swinging him up off of the ground and around in continuous circles.

He remembered the way that the moonlight had reflected off of the smaller man's porcelain-sculpted features; that, as well as the way that his heart had hammered, steadfast within the confines of his rib cage as he had dipped a gloved hand into his thick coat's pocket.

It was simply impossible to wait for, spending a lifetime together…

- - -

Leaning just slightly to the left so that his lips brushed that smooth, tender skin of Zack's earlobe, Brian smiled bashfully.  The dim glow of the Christmas lights hung around them, within the cold, winter air as though it were a thick fog, casting a yellowish glow about the atmosphere.  

"Zack…" the taller man murmured, clasping his petite mate's hand within his own delicately as he held him close.  

Settling into his boyfriend's warm embrace, Zack allowed his eyes to slide lazily shut, a contented smile taking his plush lips into their own comforting, secure embrace.  "Mm, yeah?" the younger man murmured, closing the fingers of his tattooed left hand around Brian's slender digits. At this particular moment in time, there was nowhere that the noirette would rather have been than in the place that he was now; reminiscing over his and Brian's first real, romantic night together, as the area in which it had taken place was where the older man had brought him tonight.

However, as the noirette performed the small gesture, grasping the other man's gloved hand tightly within his own, Brian shook his head, sprawling his palm over Zack's so that their hands rested flat against one another.

Zacky took nothing about this small feat seriously to mind; at least, not until an already-open, velvet-embellished box replaced the plane of the molten-eyed man's palm.  Zack's eyes fluttered, widening slightly as his gaze snapped toward his palm, which had now curled just slightly over the miniature box.

"I know that this is going to sound sudden… and it isn't as though I put an extreme lot of thought behind this, but I love you so, so much, Zack." Brian spoke, soon after pressing his thin, chapped lips to the area just behind the cartilage of his beloved's left ear. "And I want to spend a lifetime with you.  Will you marry me?"

Trembling whilst an unfathomable amount of moisture swelled along his lower lashes, Zack struggled to draw in shaky breaths of oxygen as he turned just slightly, meeting Brian's compassionate gaze.  Slowly, he nodded, allowing a torridly luminous smile to alight his expression.

"Yes… oh God, yes, Bri!" he murmured breathlessly, throwing his arms around his lover's neck immediately and locking them there securely.

Brian's returning smile mirrored the enthusiasm that his boyfriend—now fiancé—emitted from within every speck of his being, and he stood from the bench upon which the two of them sat, tugging Zack upward with him before falling to his knees before the green-eyed man.

With this, he reached toward the small box that Zacky still clutched, extracting
it from its new home in order to remove the simply beautiful ring from its confines.

On instinct, the more petite, raven-haired man outstretched his left hand, allowing his dark-eyed fiancé to slide the white-golden band onto his ring finger.  Seconds later, it seemed, Brian had risen from his kneeling position, scooping his stunned and pleasantly speechless lover off of the ground and into his strong, coat-shrouded arms as the beginnings of a light December snow began fluttering, swirling downward and about their bodies with a simple, lithe sort of grace.

"I love you so fucking much, Zachary James Baker." the slightly larger of the pair murmured breathlessly moments prior to capturing his fiancé's chilled, slightly weather-dried lips within a greatly passionate lock.

Giggling into the deepening kiss as he lost all care of who witnessed the moment that the two of them were sharing, Zack nodded, breaking the kiss slightly sooner than his lover may have preferred.

"I love you too, Bri… and the name's Haner, now."


- - -


Allowing a gentle sigh of his own to pass through the barrier that his thin lips created, Brian forced himself to smile gently, as though he were truly gazing into his husband's eyes instead of at the stars above.

"Don't worry, sugar… remember, I'll be home in just a few days.  Or did you forget..?" he smirked as he teased his beloved lightly, heart immediately uplifted ever so slightly as the unmistakable sound of his lover's laughter rang out from the other end of the wire.

"Of course I didn't forget… It's our anniversary, Bri." the younger man spoke softly, the smile apparent in his voice. "I'd never forget our anniversary."

Midnight irises sparkling as his toothy grin became realer and realer, Brian nodded.  "Of course not, baby.  And I'll be back before you've had the time to realize that I ever went anywhere." he reassured his green-eyed lover, and at hearing the sound of a defeated bout of exhalation from his cell-phone's speaker, smiled.

"Alright, alright…" Zacky muttered, tone playful as he rested his clean-shaven chin upon an open palm.  "You better not be late."

Grinning, Brian chuckled. "It's a promise, Zacky-beautiful." he cooed once more as he allowed his tired eyes to close lithely, simply enjoying that fact that he had been able to make the man dearest to him smile, even the slightest bit.

As his chocolate-haired husband spoke the first words of his sentence, though, the smaller male couldn't help but emit a silent breath of air; although his lover claimed the uplifting words to be a promise, it wasn't necessarily to say that they were.

'3 days, now…'


- - -


The raven-haired man lay restlessly in bed with his knees curled into his chest and his luminous jade eyes pinched shut tightly.  To any average-minded person, young Zacky may have appeared to be asleep.  However, in reality, this was far from the truth.

He'll be home soon… he promised.  

This thought trudged the course of the 27-year-old's mind over and over again, unchanged, as though it were a bad pop song stuck on repeat.  No matter how Zack attempted to calm his restless mind, to will his body into the peaceful oblivion known as sleep, that recurring thought simply would not budge.

Just go to sleep… he'll be home in two days.  He promised, he promised…

A heavy sighed brushed past the flesh barrier created by the pale-skinned man's lips, as he adjusted his position within the bed that he and Brian normally shared for the umpteenth time that night.

These sorts of things—the virtual anxiety attacks—occurred inevitably, every so often whilst Brian was away… most normally, only when Zack and Brian had something important planned for a date that was near to the event of Brian's homecoming; when there was a chance that Brian would arrive home later than anticipated, and miss out on that important event entirely.

Sometimes, though, the apprehensive spells would begin taking charge of the young noirette's mind at spontaneous points in time, without any said reason, and end with poor Zack lying in bed weeping, wondering if his lover might simply leave and never return, upon one of his "work-related outings".

Albeit those sorts of attacks were quite rare for the youngest of the couple, they never failed to take quite the impact on his mind.  Nearly every time that such a bout of apprehension had occurred, Zack had found himself feeling the need to make a phone call his lover, to hear Brian's gentle voice assuring him the he would be home in no time, and that their love was still untouchable.  

And now, as he sighed heavily once again and scrubbed at his heavy, slightly dampened eyes, Zack sat up in bed, pondering this factor.  Perhaps, now, even as this wasn't one his worst anxiety attacks, something of the sort could help him.  If he could just to hear his husband's voice over the line, hear that reassurance…

Tossing his feet over the edge of the bed, the green-eyed male shook his head slowly, righting himself so that he could make his way into the kitchen and to the house phone that resided there.  The entire house was silent, as well as dark, as Zack strode out of the bedroom and down the hallway, working to keep his breathing at an even level as he wandered the vacant house.

The thought of being alone, even in his own home, at night, still frightened the dark-haired man, even as he had been forced to endure the situation on several occasions… he had always been a particularly paranoid person, especially when it came to not knowing what there was lurking in the dark, lingering about the atmosphere around him.

Feeling his way along the wall attentively as he went, Zacky sighed as an act of relief as his calloused fingertips brushed over what could only be recognized as a light switch.  Warily preparing himself for the shock of light that was to come, he flicked the switch, nibbling thoughtfully at his lower lip as he took a moment to gaze about the hallway, simply making certain that no one else occupied his tiny Colorado home.

Once he was comfortable with the thought that he truly was alone in the house, he proceeded on to the kitchen, blinking as he eyed the phone upon one of the kitchen's two counters.  Zack leaned up against the kitchen counter's marble ledge as his slightly stubby digits reached out and wound hesitantly around the small, plastic device, then after plucking it from its cradle.

Now that he was in position, prepared to do so, Zacky swiftly dialed the digits belonging to Brian's cell phone number, huffing as he raised the phone's speaker to his ear. The monotone ring that indicated a pending call echoed about the noirette's ears for a mere moment before a familiar, tired-sounding voice replaced the sound, uttering just a few words and instantly bringing a gentle smile to the green-eyed man's lips.

"Zacky, babe, are you okay..?" Brian half-yawned, rubbing at his eyes as he leaned up against the door of his old truck.  He had taken up a half-sitting, half laying position upon answering the call.

Releasing a noise that registered as something between a whimper and a sigh as he again pondered just how much he missed his lover, Zacky shook his head, leaning up against the counter as he took in his husband's words.  Now, as that wondrously smooth baritone seeped into the crevices of his mind, all of Zack's worries seemed to come off as utterly foolish.

"Sorry, love… I just… couldn't sleep." he murmured into the phone, taking the tender and slightly swollen flesh of his lower lip in between his teeth as he spoke.  The younger man's cheeks became slightly warm as he gave Brian his explanation… he had begun to feel that his thoughts, moments ago, had been irrational.  However, as he heard a harmonious chuckle ring over the ling, his heart fluttered, beating as though it were the wings of one-hundred butterflies.

"Well… I know you know that I'll be home in about two days, but… do you want me to talk to you until you do fall asleep..?" Brian murmured, smiling as he spoke.  In actuality, he found it rather adorable that Zack had called him simply to pass the time as he hadn't been able to fall asleep, and he didn't mind, even in the slightest.  It was nice to have the bashful voice of his partner to soothe his own restless mind on nights like this; nights when he had trouble being away from home.

Grinning like an utter fool, Zacky nodded to himself as though Brian truly were there in person, and immediately began making his way back into the bedroom.  
"That would be amazing, babe…" he murmured, shaking his head slowly as he extended his free hand to turn out the lights in the hallway once again.  Nearly as an afterthought, he laughed softly into the phone, uttering one last request. "Do you think you could… sing to me, too?  You know, it's always helped me to sleep…"

Chuckling heartily once more as he, too, nodded to himself, Brian allowed his eyes to close as he gradually slid back into his laying position upon the seat of his truck.  "Of course, baby boy… you'd better lay down, then.  I don't want you to fall asleep standing and wake up with a headache."

Yet another tender loving smile kissed Zacky's lips as he listened to the wonderful playfulness that caressed every aspect of Brian's voice.  He could very basically see that smile upon his husband's face, that little sparkle in his brown eyes…

"I'm working on that…" the younger man muttered playfully as he climbed into his bed once again and immediately snuggled in warmly, closing his eyes as he still held the phone close to his ear.  

"Okay… I'm lying down, now…" he assured the man on the other line, allowing his heart to begin fluttering once again at the mere thought of what was to come. Nodding, Brian simply took in a deep, preparatory breath and delved into the song that he had promised Zacky. He made absolutely sure that his voice remained soft, so that the song may have succeeded in lulling his husband into deep slumber, as he meant it to.

"It's been a while since I've seen you smile… in my eyes, the feeling's oh so cold… and your fingertips, the taste of your lips, I need you now… Cause you've turned the world that I know completely upside down…"

Zack sighed exhaustedly as he listened carefully to Brian's voice, almost immediately feeling his mind fall into that strange half-conscious state that it so often.  The older man knew that this was one of Zack's favorite songs… it was so soothing and just so… wonderfully descriptive in relation to their relationship...  
The way that Brian seemed to know this subconsciously made Zack think that maybe, just maybe, the bronze-skinned-brown-eyed man that he loved so much felt the exact same way that he did about their separation.

"Help me, dear, help me hear your voice… it helps me through the night when I'm alone… And I will try to be the man who understands… I just don't want to tell you all of this over the phone…  You're waiting for me to get back home, I'm leaving San Francisco and I don't think I could miss you more than I do, right now baby, oh I don't have all the answers, but this time is of the essence…  And it's a damn good thing you know the way that I feel for you…"

As Zack registered the words of this second verse in his mind, he smiled, allowing that recurring thought from earlier tonight to ring through his mind one last time… this time, with a more positive tone.

He  promised.

'Just 48 hours more...'


- - -


"More coffee, dear?" a slender, brunette waitress clad in a peach-colored uniform spoke placidly as she approached the table at which a tall, bronzed man sat with a mug in hand, analyzing something upon the screen of his cell phone intently.  The young lady
offered a friendly smile as he turned to face her.

Brian nodded his head. "Yes, please.  And thank you." he mused, returning her tired-looking smile with twice the enthusiasm, as well as a sly wink.

The worn-out, dark-eyed man was mere hours away, now, from home, from his Zacky, which was undoubtedly more than enough to brighten every small aspect of his mood.  Even the exhaustion that had begun to ensue, what with the near 7-hour homebound drive, could not have kept the well-built man's exhilaration at bay.

No matter how many times the wonderful event of his homecoming to Zack's warm embrace and loving smile occurred, Brian could never seem to keep in check the beating of butterflies' wings, the flurry of fireworks that occurred within his stomach brought on by the short bit of time in between.

The waitress before him raised an eyebrow, smile broadening at the man's harmless flirting as she tipped the coffee thermos that she carried over the brim of Brian's mug.  Once the bluish-colored glass cup was filled to lip with piping hot coffee, she brought a pair of glimmering cocoa-colored eyes upward to meet the ragged-looking man's gaze.

After a moment, she reached a slender palm forward to tap her index and middle fingertips upon the diamond-encrusted silver band gracing Brian's left ring finger.  With the articulate gesture, the innocently beautiful woman shot the truck driver before her a playful sort of smile as her russet eyes sparkled, now, mirroring Brian's own.

"Do you really think you should be coming onto waitresses about now, honey?" she mused, drawing back her hand swiftly and glancing, it seemed, over Brian's head to cast a genuine, more loving smile in someone else's direction.  

The sparkle in her deep mocha eyes reminded the brunette delivery-driver of the sparkle that he so often witnessed, whilst gazing deeply into Zacky's beautiful emerald orbs—this particular glimmer seemed to make its appearance, most often, when the two of them made love.  The slightly erotic thought brought a warm flush of crimson color into Brian's cheeks, which immediately overtook the natural sun-kissed color of his cheekbones and swirled felinely about as it whipped at the bridge of his nose.

He chuckled sheepishly as he averted his gaze, a particular loving gleam present in his eyes as he stared intently into the steaming, dark-colored surface of the coffee within his mug.  Moments later, he picked the glass cup up off of the table's surface and moved it gently within his hands, using a careful, clockwise motion.  This went on to create a miniature whirlpool within the mass of liquid.

"I wouldn't have considered that to be flirting, miss.  I am, after all, on my way home to my beautiful husband." he smiled warmly just moments before bringing the rim of the mug he held to his lips, drawing a careful sip of coffee onto his tongue and allowing the sweltering liquid to warm him to the core as he swallowed it down quickly, gazing toward the stockily-built woman once more.

As Brian's words processed in her mind, the playful waitress' smile widened and she laughed sheepishly, a prominent shade of rose-bitten color whipping and biting at the pallid canvas of her flesh. "Well, my mistake, sir… wouldn't have taken you for the type." she grinned bashfully, shaking her head as that luscious shade of scarlet peeked from behind her brunette locks and settled upon her cheekbones fully.  After a moment, though, her humorous guise softened, transitioning into something that seemed to be more along the lines of empathy.  "In any case, I'm sorry about that, honey.  It's no fun being cooped up in places like this waiting for that magical moment with your man at home."

Shaking his head just slightly as he again brought a reassuringly warmed gulp of coffee to his lips, Brian smiled as he swallowed down a fuller mass of the caffeinated liquid, allowing it to take its effect on him.

"Yes, I suppose it's quite tedious… good thing I'll be on my way soon.  And no hard feelings.  I guess not many would figure me for that type anyhow." he mused, shaking his head as he again settled his midnight irises upon the already half-drained cup that he held, that gentle smile remaining set in place.  It was true, after all—he'd never come off to others as being interested in men.

However, as he sat back a moment within his booth, the waitress shook her head, brow furrowing just slightly.  "That's not what I meant, sweetheart…" the young woman spoke in an odd tone, tilting her head just slightly as she turned slightly on her heel to stride away from the chipper-looking man. "I meant the fact that you more than likely won't make it out of this diner tonight… the door's already stuck shut, and it's still coming down out there."

At the waitress' words, however, Brian sprang upward and out of his seat, nearly spewing his latest mouthful of coffee all over the person in the booth opposite him. "What?!" he yelped once he had swallowed the last bit of the steaming beverage that lingered on his tongue, staring open-mouthed after the woman's retreating silhouette.  The last half of her sentence had barely registered in the truck-driver's consciousness, as all that he had had the mind to comprehend was that he may not be making it home tonight.

"Well, just take a look outside!  It's hardly driving weather out there!" she called in turn, nanoseconds before disappearing around a corner at the far end of the café, most presumably to attend to and take the orders of other customers.

Instantaneously, Brian did as he had been told and made a sharp one-eighty, gazing toward the glass doors at the entrance of the cafe.  Immediately, he gaped as he became aware of the two-and-a-half foot stack of solidly packed snow that had piled up against the double-doors.  The glass surfaces already appeared to be frosted over.

He hadn't arrived here all too long ago, had he?  No, only about an hour and a half or so… he pondered, though he quickly came to his senses as he approached the front doors.  The all-out, whirlwind of a blizzard that the clouds lingering about the deep, dark night sky had erupted into set into his heart a sense of strange awe, as well as a deep sensation of heartache.

"Oh god, no… this can't happen, not now, he's never going to forgive me…" the frantic, cocoa-eyed man muttered, shaking his head as he brought a sweat-kissed palm to cover his harshly stinging eyes.  His deep brown irises glimmered with fright, as he gazed disbelievingly into the sheets of thick snow coming over the café that he stood just inside the doors of.  

Lowering his inked over hand from his face after a moment, Brian released an exasperated groan, fighting back the fearful tears that welled along his lashes as he cast his gaze about the parking lot that he had exhaustedly pulled into some time ago, merely in need of a bit of warmth and rest.  His old truck was now virtually buried beneath the dense snow, and it looked as though there wasn't a car on the road for miles, as the thick, heavy snow created a palpable film all throughout the night air.

Brian's fears had been confirmed—his and Zacky's anniversary began in less than 2 hours, and he more than likely wasn't about to find his way out of these café' doors and home to his husband for a good 24-48.

Momentarily stepping forward and resting his forehead against the thick pane of glass before him, Brian squeezed his eyes shut and sluggishly shook his head, banging a fist harshly against the glass.  
The action drew some attention and odd stares, but this was the last thing on the California-native's mind, for the call that he was about to make was certainly going to be the most difficult yet far.


- - -


'Tonight's the night.'

Flitting about the kitchen with a lighthearted and carefree smile embellishing his boyish face, Zack had begun setting upon the dining table small, red candles that smelled of apples and cinnamon, then after lighting each wick with a special kind of care as he hummed absently to himself.

The jade-eyed man hadn't a concern in the world for the fact that it was now 10:00 p.m., nor that, in technicality, it was still the night before his and Brian's anniversary, and he was absolutely positive that Brian would not have paid any mind to these minor details either—especially not once he arrived, and saw what Zacky had set out in accomplishing for the sake of their special night.

All in the last few hours, he had whipped up his husband's very favorite dessert—no-bake cheesecake, a recipe that Zack had picked up from his mother—and now was simply adding all of the wondrous, romantic touches that he felt necessary to their tiny kitchen, hoping that perhaps, the atmosphere would help him to sway Brian, suggestively, in one way or another.

Although he had had his doubts about Brian's promises in the beginning, today had certainly changed his opinions for the better—each of the times that he had talked to the taller, bronze-skinned man on the phone, he had sounded so utterly euphoric, giddy almost, as he spoke to his emerald-eyed companion about their upcoming plans.  Zacky could say, pure and true, that he trusted in the fact that his husband would arrive home in a timely manner, this time around.

Giggling to himself as he thought through his and Brian's earlier conversations, the ecstatic, raven-haired man opened up the loosely hanging door of the freezer, and placed the singular bottle of red wine that he had purchased for this occasion upon one of the shelves. After a second or two, though, he was startled from his blissful daze by the sound of the house phone's ringing.

After coming down from the initial shock given by the abrupt sound, and considering the irony of the fact that he had just been pondering his phone conversations, Zack smiled vibrantly and stepped back from the refrigerator, sensing, already, who it was that would be on the other line.

The porcelain-skinned male virtually skipped across the slight distance separating him from the telephone, then taking the receiver into his hand and pressing the small, green "send" button.

"Just couldn't bear not being able to hear my voice for another hour and a half, handsome?" Zacky trilled into the phone's receiver, carrying the aged device with him as he strode back toward the fridge in order to close the freezer's door, which remained open.

"Zacky, baby…" the soothing baritone that the smaller man so adored hummed over the line, bringing an endless smile to Zack's face.

"Yes, my wonderful husband of three years?" the noirette mused giddily, unable to cease the joyous laughter bubbling from within him.

Zack could truly care less that he sounded as though he were some sort of overly excited, ten-year-old school girl, as he heard his lover's response of gentle laughter over the line.

"Well, first of all… I just want you to remember that your wonderful, loyal husband of three years loves you with all of his heart, and that he misses you even more so…"

Furrowing his brow slightly as his laughter finally died down, Zack shook his head slowly.  The words that Brian spoke were sweet, but there was something about his tone of voice that came across to the smaller male as particularly weak; nerve-wracked.  Biting down at his full lower lip tentatively, the shorter of the two men nodded to himself before speaking again.

"Oh… is that all..?" he mused in a charmingly bashful tone of voice, now striding toward the table so that he could sit as he spoke to Brian.  He had been up and about on his feet for several hours, now, preparing all of the things that he had for his husband's homecoming.

"Well, no.  That's not quite all." the older man spoke particularly quietly, emitting an anxious huff of air as he held the phone within his tremulous right hand.  

Zack sensed the wariness in his voice instantly, and, now, gulped, raising the hand that wasn't busied with gripping the telephone's receiver to rest before his lips, squeezing his eyes shut a moment before responding.

"Well, what else could there to—" he began rambling warily, only to be cut short immediately, mid-speak, by his lover's own anxiously slurred sentence.

"He wants you to know how badly he wants—and needs—to see you again, to see your wonderful smile…" the russet eyed Californian spoke slowly, at the first leading Zack to smile a smile that clearly showed off the fact that he was smitten, and to breathe a gentle sigh of what seemed to be relief.

"Well, someone should let him know that I feel the same…" the youngest of the pair mused, gazing downward and into the surface of the wooden table top that he sat before as his short and slightly chubby digits tap-tap-tapped against it.  Perhaps his husband was simply worn out, due to his long drive… this was all that Zacky could hope for, as he raised his eyes slightly to gaze into the flickering flame of one of the candles that he had set out.

"Good… and also… because of all of the things that he feels for you…" the brunette continued, once again drawing his mate's attention. "He wants you to know how sorry he is that he won't make it home before the end of tomorrow… that he's ashamed that he allowed something as trivial as colder weather to keep him from your special celebration…"

At these words, Zack's diligently tapping fingers began to numb, ceasing all movement as his pulsating heart seemed to cease its steady rhythm within his ribcage all together.

Before the younger man knew what to do with himself, there were oceanic-sized tears rocketing over his rapidly flushing cheeks.  His abruptly tremulous right hand balled into a tight fist as he squeezed his rhinestone-hue eyes shut.  Zack's throat seemed to have closed off, and at this, he shuddered, stifling a wavering, broken sob.

At hearing the apparent shakiness that his husband's shallow breathing had taken on, Brian raised a quavering palm to cover his deep and murky brown eyes, hiding from the other occupants of the diner the tears that had begun stinging and burning at those eyes.

"Zacky… I am so sorry…" he near whispered, blinking rapidly as to suppress the hot tears that had surfaced despite his earlier attempts to keep them at bay.

Releasing a strangled cough meant to loosen the taut muscles within his throat, Zacky sniffled. "No, no… d – don't worry, babe.  I mean, I… I half expected this anyhow…" the shaken-up noirette breathed, simply allowing the hot tears overwhelming him to spill fluidly over his cheeks as he leaned slightly forward, giving a gentle huff of air to extinguish the flame that he had been gazing upon moments prior.

There was something quite symbolic about this process, he realized, and so went on to huff out the remaining four candles positioned off the sides of the first.

Inhaling sharply at the abrupt pang of guilt and hurt that jolted his heart, Brian allowed his slender hand to fall from before his eyes, instead resting palm up upon his thigh.  "Zee… what does that mean?" the brunette murmured near inaudibly, not so much angered by his lover's words as he was hit with stark reality.

On every occasion, whether it had been one that he and Zacky had planned together, or an important get together with friends, he had either been late, or completely absent.  These occasions, specifically, included several dates with the smaller man, several birthday parties—both Zacky's, his friends', and relatives'—weddings and wedding receptions of his closest friends… the list , now, seemed endless.

As one of the breaths that had been meant to extinguish the last candle faltered, catching in his throat, Zacky whimpered quietly, again squeezing his eyes shut.

"God, you know what it means, Bri." the younger man spoke harshly, although his frigid tone of voice had been significantly softened by the slight sobs that had begun peeking in between every other word. "I don't know how much longer I can do this, I—I just…"

At Zack's words, Brian's breath as well caught within his throat, and the ever-remorseful heart within his chest began thudding desperately, anxiously.  "Zacks, no, God, no... please, please, don't say that, I'm so sorry!" he sputtered, very obviously panicked as he clutched the receiver tightly as he held it to his ear.

"Brian, I've asked you—begged you—so many times, to just bring me with you, to consider how alone I felt being left here by myself.  But there was never even one occasion on which you took it into consideration.  Never once.  You always just… leave me here, and then expect me to act as if nothing's amiss when you come home, when you're either late or never arrive to the things that we plan together… all of the things that might mean anything.  I love you, Brian.  God knows, I love you.  But I'm tired of hurting." the green-eyed male mumbled, finally leaning forward to extinguish the final candle upon the table.

Shaking his head slightly as he rose from his seat and turned all of about ninety degrees as he took a few steps forward, Zack yanked the fridge door open and extracted that specially made desert from upon its designated shelf.  Sniffling audibly, he turned, taking another few steps in the opposite direction before tossing it into the trash, pan and all.

Releasing a subtle sniffle of his own at hearing all of the background noise, Brian screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head.  It was becoming rather obvious that Zack had planned something back home for him, something extremely special.
Despite knowing that he was attracting the attention of his fellow (theoretical) cell mates, he couldn't help the way that the possibility of Zack leaving him without a second thought, of having to return home to a vacant home, affected him.

"Please, Zacky… please, let me get home, give me the chance to talk to you and see you before you make any rash decisions…" he mused, scratching feverishly at his clothed thigh as his widened, tearful eyes darted constantly from side to side, from the diner's entrance to his booth at the center of the café. "I'm sorry, really I am, I know I don't show you enough, but I do need you, Zee… I need you in my life."

Stepping to lean weakly against the kitchen counter, just before the receiver's cradle, Zack whimpered just slightly, lower lip quivering.

"Brian… I'll try.  But please, don't make me wait a full week… because I'm pretty sure you would be late for my funeral if you weren't there when I died."

Upon speaking the last words, Zack removed the phone from before his ear before harshly clacking the large, oblong device back into its resting place and abruptly ending the call.

The raven-haired man knew that his words had been harsh, but at the moment, the fact seemed to be beside the point.

There had been so much anger, so much hurt pent up within Zack's heart, and just now, he figured, he had allowed himself, finally, to take all of that hurt and anger out on his lover—the very man who had caused each and every bit of the emotion.

Sniffling audibly once again, the porcelain-skinned man stumbled slightly as he pushed himself back from the kitchen counter that he leaned up against, gripping, now, the pair of wine glasses that he had been set upon that counter merely a foot away.

Uncaringly and from a few feet away, Zack tossed those glasses into the kitchen sink, shattering one of the pair to mere bits upon the kitchen appliance's metal surface.

Jumping slightly at the sound, even as he had expected it, the flustered noirette sighed shakily, then after striding toward the fridge for the umpteenth time that night to collect the large bottle of wine from the freezer-shelf which he had placed it upon just moments prior.

At this, he strode back toward the sink in which the shattered wine glasses lay, forcing the concealing cork from within the bottle neck's confines and swiftly tipping the container forward, over the sink.  Pouring every last drop of the sultry liquid down the drain, over the shattered shards of glass before he was able to think to use the wine for other purposes, Zack released a wavering sob.

At this, masses of tears swelled within poor Zachary Haner's eyes; I'm sure that our relationship is as broken as these stupid cups, now, he thought, allowing yet another placid sniff to escape him and echo over top of the sound of liquid being poured down a drain pipe.

However, as the last drops of wine were emptied from the bottle, and as Zack tossed the emptied bottle into the sink to join the broken glasses, the small house's phone's shrill ring, seemingly such an ominous sound, now, echoed throughout the tiny kitchen once more.

He really thinks I'm that weak. Zack thought, sneering as he whirled toward the aging phone a final time and yanked the cord connecting it to its jack from the wall as additional hot tears cascaded over his reddened cheeks.

Well, I'm not that weak.

With this final thought, Zacky Haner—though it could very possibly have been Baker once again, now—scrubbed at his cheeks until all traces of moisture had been wiped clean, and turned away from the deactivated phone hastily.  With a heavy sigh, he began marching toward the bedroom in which, tonight, he would be slumbering alone.