Their meetings were always hurried, full of touches that were just a little too hard and kisses that involved too much tooth. Neither complained, there was no time for them to argue now. No time for prolonged, wordless struggles as to who was on top, no time to tease. It just happened.
It was only in the afterglow, the bittersweet sweat and laboured breaths, that they talked. Quiet murmurs accompanied by lips on skin, a squeeze of the hand on a hip.
"I haven't got long." Jaye would say, his once perfectly straightened and styled blond hair now a mess, stuck to the pillow with sweat.
His partner knew, and would only nod, close his one working eye, and press his lips somewhere else on Jaye's chest. "Did you get it on disc?"
The blond always did he knew how it worked and sat up to pull it from his jacket. He could feel the other man tightening the arm around his waist, as if resisting the knowledge that they'd be separating soon. "It's a "
"I know." Another squeeze, and Jaye almost came undone when his lover pressed his face into his hip. "Don't get caught."
This time, Jaye's breath did hitch. He never got caught, but that line was generally followed by them both shrugging their clothes and slinking back to their respective accommodation. Tonight he deviated from the script, threw himself across the other man's chest and clung on for dear life. Tears he hadn't known he was holding back began to escape.
"I don't want to go back." His voice was hitched and croaky, but he didn't care. Hiding was taking its toll, sneaking down corridors and picking locks weren't good for the soul. The worst part was that the other man knew. He didn't judge, either, simply held Jaye to his chest and murmured quiet, soothing words. Stroked his hair. Even missing an eye and covered in tattoos, his lover was perfect. Jaye knew they could be happy.
"We'll get you out soon."
Soon. It was always soon. But Jaye sniffed back a bitter response, nodded and helped the other man straighten out. He was rewarded with one of his lover's long, lingering kisses, the ones that made his toes curl and left him sighing like a love struck teenager afterwards.
"I love you."
And then he was gone, leaving Jaye to pay the tab. He didn't leave immediately, scrubbing at his cheeks and the lingering tears. It was three years to the day.
"Who was it this time, huh?" His driver sent him a leer in the review mirror. Jaye just shrugged, breathing onto the limo window and tracing a finger through the clouds. There was no moon.
"I don't know." And it wasn't a lie. Even after three years, it was still too dangerous to ask his lover's name.