FIVE YEARS LATER

On a cold afternoon in the middle of February, Jason Travis, now thirty-one years old, rose his cupped hands to blow on them, his warm breath a plume of white smoke. Bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, he glanced up at a clear, bright blue sky, while under his boots the pavement glistened with recent rain. It was one of those days, where the world felt like it had been washed clean, smelling of rain, damp earth, and greenery. One of those days where it felt like a new beginning.

Standing just outside the double glass doors of a coffee shop, in the vacant outdoor seating area of metal tables and chairs, he reached down into the pockets of his blue knee length coat, which was buttoned all the way up with the collar turned up. His cold fingers found the small hard object in his left pocket, and he toyed with it. If he was honest with himself, he was more than a little nervous about what today would bring.

In his right pocket against his palm, his phone vibrated. Taking it out, he read: Sorry, I'm running late. Releasing the object, he held the phone with both hands to reply: No problemo. The response made him chuckle: Please never ever say that again. And like he had many times before, he began to back scroll through the chat, reading texts going back almost two months—friendly texts, fun texts, sometimes flirty texts, sometimes serious, all of them leaving a fond smile on his increasingly cold lips.

With a satisfied sigh he turned the phone off and slipped it back into his pocket. Around him, people ebbed and flowed in and out of the coffee shop, the big picture windows in front decorated with red hearts and balloons. Further up the sidewalk, other cafes and restaurants were similarly decorated, with signboards advertising prices for couples. It was Valentine's Day, but it was also an important day for other reasons.

Once more turning his gaze to the sky, sounds of conversations and traffic faded into the background as his thoughts turned to the person for whom he was waiting. A chance meeting seven years ago had led to this moment, but Jason had a feeling nothing about today was going to be by chance. Once more his hand closed around the small object in his pocket, pressing it into his palm, this time for reassurance.

It would be ten more minutes before a figure broke away from the crowd streaming up and down the sidewalk, to stand before him out of breath.

"I'm sorry," David said, every labored breath puffy white clouds. "Were you waiting long?"

Five years Jason thought. He smiled. "Nope. I just got here."

"Liar," David breathed, holding his side.

Jason laughed as he held out a hand to the young man. "Do you need a minute?"

David shook his head, even as he braced a hand on the placard showing that day's special coffee blends. He was dressed in a knee length, white leather coat, with silver hardware and an exaggerated collar; underneath was a black high-necked sweater, the sleeves of which came down over his fingers, black pants with pairs of horizontal silver zippers on the thighs, and black, chunky matte boots with a slight heel. His inky black hair hung down to his chest in uneven layers, crimped, deeply parted and pulled over his right shoulder, with silver bobby pins in the left side to hold it in place.

Jason's gaze took it all in, ending on the dark eyes, only the outer edges of which had been lined in black, with flashes of silver metallic powder on the lids when the young man blinked. In David's ears, all his silver piercings remained, but the ring in his lip had been removed. Jason smiled. "You look good."

Dark eyes looked up at him, then passed over him, taking in the tall, sleek figure: the shiny brown hair brushed straight back and glistening with product, the luxurious midnight blue coat with gold buttons, pressed black slacks, and boots shinned to a reflective sheen. "So do you, M—" He stopped on the word that almost escaped, prolonging it into the sound mmm instead, as Jason laughed. "Sorry," David said. "Force of habit."

"Still?" Jason asked, his green eyes filling with amusement at the faint color that creeped into David's pale cheeks. He hid a smile as he turned towards the coffee shop behind them. "Shall we get out of the cold? I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Neither am I."

The tone made him look back, and the look in David's eyes made his pulse quicken. The dark gaze held his for a moment, then looked away as David opened the door and went into the coffee shop. Taking a moment and a deep breath of cold air, Jason caught the open door and followed.

Inside was a clutter of tables and chairs in front of two picture windows, with a coffee bar directly opposite the door. The otherwise beige walls were covered with decals of hearts, clusters of balloons, and racks of cards and chocolate. At the counter, Jason reached for his wallet, but a pale hand with black nails on his arm stopped him with its touch.

"It's my treat," David said. "I was the one who invited you."

Jason rose his brows. "You spoil me," he said.

"Am I the only one?" David asked. Handing over his card to the cashier, he looked up at Jason. "Or has someone else been doing it, too?"

Caught off guard by the question and the gaze, Jason's lips parted, and he cast a quick glance at the cashier, who stood with her lips pursed over a barely contained smile as she swiped David's card. "Not recently," Jason finally said.

"Aw," came the mocking sympathetic sound.

"Shut up," Jason said, with a small, almost embarrassed laugh, looking away from them both.

In the almost full café, they were lucky enough to grab a table near the windows, just as others were leaving it. The small round table was covered with a red tablecloth and a white overlay, with a small heart plush and a single paper rose in a glass vase in the center, amid the cream and packets of sugar. Despite the warmth of the café, neither of them removed their coats. Jason unbuttoned his, patting a hand inconspicuously over the object in his pocket as he sat.

As he sat down, David's phone chimed. "Sorry," he said, glancing down at the screen. "It's Drew. He wants to do something today."

Jason smiled. "I told you the two of you would be best friends one day."

"Shut up."

Jason laughed, then tilted his head as he looked at him. "Are you seeing anyone, David?"

"No," came the too quick response. David ducked his head as Jason hid a smile.

Leaning forward to fold his arms on the table, Jason asked, "Did you ever date that guy? The singer?" When dark eyes looked up at him, he smiled. "We can talk about it, can't we?"

David looked away. "No," he said to the table. "No, we never dated."

"Who did you date?" Jason asked.

David looked up at him. Jason held his gaze. He needed to know, and David understood that.

"There was a guy in my class," David said, his tone light and conversational. "But it was doomed before it began."

"How come?" Jason asked, frowning curiously.

"He only listed to jazz," David said, with a shiver, making Jason laugh. He paused. "There was also a girl."

"A girl?" Jason's brows shot up. "Do tell."

But David shook his head. "Never," he said, putting a black painted fingernail to his lips.

"Tease," Jason said, clicking his tongue and kicking David lightly under the table.

"Ow!" David said, lifting his assaulted left foot away even as he laughed.

"Are you going to ask me about who I dated?"

"No," came the pouting answer.

Jason laughed. "Not completely grown up then, I see." He smiled into dark eyes. Good, he thought, and it showed in his own green eyes, twinkling in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

David lowered his head, but the man saw his smile and the color in his cheeks. A string of chimes sounded from his phone just then, and he pulled it from his pocket. "Drew," he said, with a sharp sigh.

"Must be important," Jason said, as even more texts came through.

"They're really not," David said, turning the phone and handing it to Jason. "He's basically having a conversation with himself."

Jason scanned through the rapid fire messages, one after the other: Let's go out tonight—Want to go to that new place on 7th?—No, let's go to that theater that shows old black and white films and then have dinner—Where do you want to have dinner? Oh, never mind, I know where we're going—It's my treat, too, so don't even think about saying no—What are you going to wear?—What should I wear?—Lets go shopping first, I have no clothes.

"I thought I was the gay friend," David said, as Jason burst out laughing. "I don't know why he's so insistent on today."

"Maybe for the same reason I wanted to see you today." Jason held out the phone and smiled. "You forgot, didn't you?"

"It's hard to forget Valentine's Day," David said, glancing around with mild disdain.

"Not that," Jason said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "When I said I wasn't as young as I used to be, you said, you neither...?"

Dark eyes blinked, flashing silver lids. "Oh..."

"You never were good about remembering your birthday," Jason said with a laugh. Except once, he added silently. And he bowed his head to hide his thoughts of that night, and the smile it brought to his face. "That's so like you," he said quietly. When he looked back up, dark eyes knew anyway. So, he smiled, and held out the phone.

David held his gaze, then reached out and slowly reclaimed his phone.

Sitting back, Jason cleared his throat and raised a hand to brush through his brown hair, causing the cuff of his coat sleeve to pull up, and a flash of silver caught both their eyes. It was a silver and braided leather bracelet with a heart charm.

"You're still wearing the bracelet I gave you." A statement that invited more.

Jason turned his wrist slightly, letting the silver catch the light. "Yeah," he said, with a smile. "Appropriate, no? Especially for today." He didn't mention that he'd never taken it off.

"Right," David said, a frown creasing his pale forehead. "Just for today."

Jason licked his lips, unexpectedly nervous once more. "It doesn't have to be."

David looked up at him, the hopeful question in his face before he spoke it. "Really?"

Jason could not help his smile. "Really." But then the look changed on David's face, darkening into a frown again. "What?"

"If I mess up again," David began, "will you disappear again?"

Leaning forward, Jason reached across the table for David's hand, but hesitated at the last minute, and instead curled his fingers into his palm and rested his arm on the table with a sigh. "You knew you could have reached out to me at any time."

"You know why I didn't."

"And you know what you did," Jason said quietly, with a meaningful look. They sat in silence, but David met his gaze, and in the dark eyes and pale face, Jason didn't see timidity or avoidance. He saw a quiet acceptance.

"I know what I did," David said quietly. "But did you have to cut me out?"

"You needed time—we both did."

"You disappearing out of my life didn't help me find myself—it just made me feel lost."

"I never meant to do that, David. But I just couldn't be around you. Not for a while."

David nodded, lowering his eyes to his hands in his lap, a frown creasing his pale forehead. "I know. You needed distance. And I gave you that. But when you left, I lost a friend. And now, it doesn't matter as what, I just..." he looked up, "...I want you back in my life."

Jason looked at him, seeing hope and feeling in his eyes, more emotion than the young man usually showed. No longer were the dark eyes mirrors, reflecting back without giving anything away, now they were deep, swirling pools, filled with warmth, playfulness, friendship, confidence. In the pale face and in the actions of the person opposite him, Jason saw growth.

He saw a man.

He opened his mouth, but before David's name could pass his lips, they passed another's—they were calling his name at the counter for their order.

"I'll get it," David said quietly. Briefly resting his hands on the table, his black nails contrasting sharply with the white cloth, he slid out of his chair and left.

In his absence Jason let out a long breath and slumped forward onto the table, forehead on a bended forearm, the other arm folded over his head. The last time they walked such an emotional minefield had been seven years ago, when their relationship began. It had been easier then, in some ways. Now, with years of history between them, everything, every word and every look, was just a little bit heavier. He was taking a deep breath to prepare himself for more, when he heard two voices speak in not-quite-hushed tones behind him.

"Look at him! He's so cute!"

"Who?"

"That guy at the counter in the white coat!"

"Oh, yeah, he's hot."

"Do you think he's here with someone?"

"He's getting two coffees."

"Nooo! Do you think it's a date?"

"Who cares? Wave at him when he turns around."

"You wave at him!"

"Here he comes, be cool."

Lifting his head, Jason glanced behind him and saw two girls sitting in a window seat. They were both dressed in oversized red and white checkered coats, matching miniskirts, and matching sneakers, one with short, white-blond hair in two ponytails, and the other with long black hair down to her waist. They were facing his direction, but their gazes were directed past him, fully focused on David, who was making his way back towards the table, two coffee cups and a white paper bag on a cardboard tray in his hands. They burst into giggles when David glanced at them and waved at him coyly with their fingers. David smiled and rose a pale hand, which made them giggle even more and duck their heads together.

"You're quite the ladies' man," Jason said in a strained voice, with barely contained laughter.

"Shut up," David said, retaking his seat.

"My boy is all grown up."

"Shut up."

Jason laughed into the rim of his cup, flinching as David flicked a foot at him under the table.

Jason sipped his bitter coffee. He could still hear the giggling girls behind him, and saw David's eyes flick to them, both men very aware that they were within hearing range. Jason opened his mouth, to ask about Simon, or school, or work, to make some idle chit chat, but he didn't really want to. So instead, he asked: "You want to get out of here?"

"Yes," came the immediate, grateful reply.

Collecting their coffees, they got up to go. "Don't forget to wave goodbye," Jason teased in a low voice.

"You're just jealous," David said, pushing the white paper bag into the laughing man's hands.

"Maybe I am."

David paused, and Jason cast him a smirk as he walked past. After a few seconds David followed, passing through the door held open for him and into the brisk afternoon air.

Coffees in hand, they walked down the busy plaza, despite the cold, eating the raspberry Danishes David had bought. And over sweet jam, flaky, buttery pastry, and strong, hot coffee, Jason did ask about Simon, and school, and work, the two sharing stories, laughs, and sugary treats.

"Let's go in here," Jason said, coming to a stop outside a small boutique.

"Do you need something?" David asked, throwing both their cups and the empty paper bag in a nearby trash can under a thin, bare branched tree.

"I do," Jason said, opening the glass door. "And so do you." In response to David's questioning sound, however, he simply pushed the young man through the door and into the shop.

Inside was thankfully warm, smelling of new clothes and leather, the low sound of electronic music coming from some hidden corner. It was one of those boutiques that mixed art installation with high end fashion, an all-white space with splashes of colorful clothes and shiny jewelry.

David walked around with his hands in the pockets of his coat, while Jason examined every jacket, shirt, hat, shoe, and bag. David followed him for a while, then drifted off towards the accessory section, stopping at a large white tree whose branches flowered with gloves. He had plucked a pair—black, cashmere, and fingerless, interwoven with gold thread—when Jason snuck up behind him.

The man stood quietly for a moment, his hands behind his back, watching with amusement. Then, leaning closer to the exposed ear twinkling with piercings, he whispered, "Do you like them?"

David jumped, dropping the gloves, and Jason, laughing, bent to pick them up. The cashmere was soft in his hand, and he caressed it between his fingers. When he looked up, dark eyes looked away quickly as pale cheeks flushed. Jason smiled. "I'll get them for you," he said.

"You don't have to."

"I want to. Consider it a birthday present."

David looked up at him. "What about as a Valentine's?"

Jason's lips parted, his pulse quickening at the gaze. But he took a breath, and said: "No."

David's gaze dropped to hide his emotions, but in the fleeting moment before his eyes were averted, Jason saw it all, and the range and rage of feelings he saw made Jason take an unconscious step forward. "It's because—"

"It's fine," came the quiet voice, barely audible and broken, from behind a curtain of black hair. "I understand." The hair swayed as he turned toward the door. "I'll meet you outside."

Out on the sidewalk, the cold hit like a slap in the face after the heat. Jason caught up to David just as he crossed the street and stepped onto a slight grassy incline leading to a small park. Under the slim shade of a naked tree, Jason grasped him by the elbow, stopping and turning him. "Wait," he called. "You didn't let me—"

"I get it," David said, still not looking directly at him. "It's fine. I said I wanted you back in my life no matter in what way, and I meant it. I just thought—"

"David..."

"Stop saying my name like that," David said, lips barely moving, and teeth lightly clenched, from the cold and his own internal state. "Not if you're going to tell me you no longer have feelings for me again."

"It was never about my feelings for you," Jason said, voice low but intense. "It was about no longer trusting you. And giving you time to figure out who you were and what you wanted."

"I'm still doing that," David said, finally looking up, dark eyes gleaming with pure emotion. "And I'm going to be doing that my whole life. What do you want, Major?"

The old familiar term, spoken now, with that resolute look on David's face, the dark eyes glittering in the afternoon sunlight, was more than Jason was prepared for. It invoked a wave of memories and passions, and once more Jason found himself hesitating, not because he didn't know what he wanted, but because what he wanted was so very close to coming true it was frightening.

"You once told me you know the look of someone who's about to run," David said, his voice soft and low but firm. "Well, I'm no longer running, Major," David said quietly, looking up at him with clear eyes. "I'm right here." He glanced away, then back. "What about you?"