Bittersweet
by R'rain

Blair sat alone in his room, wondering which word exactly had driven Jim 
from the loft.  Was it 'partner'?  'Feelings'?  Or was it the biggie--
'Love'?  He'd never had cause to feel ashamed of any love he felt 
before.  No matter what happened, it had always been something positive.  
Something joyous.  Now that Jim was gone, he had to wonder if it wasn't 
the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

He supposed maybe it was just a timing thing--telling him on Valentine's 
Day had seemed like the most romantic notion in the world when he'd 
thought it up.  Two years of touch, of emotion, of innuendo--it had just 
seemed natural.  What would it have felt like to someone who hadn't been 
expecting it, though?  If he hadn't been *wanting* it?

It hadn't been something he'd really considered happening.  Oh, sure, he 
knew that Jim might not be interested, that he might not want to pursue 
that kind of relationship with him, but the actual idea of *not wanting 
him* hit kinda hard when he let himself consider what it meant.  He got 
up from his cross-legged position on the bed and paced his room, making 
very little effort to avoid the little piles of books and papers 
scattered here and there.  His thoughts were elsewhere, wherever it was 
Jim had gone when he'd left the loft without a word.

The word 'love' had been the only way he could think to describe them--
not even counting the physical connotations he'd been hoping they might 
add.  He loved Jim, had for a very long time, and thought that Jim loved 
him too.  It certainly wouldn't be the first Valentine's Day that he'd 
spent alone--by choice or by unfortunate circumstance.  He should 
certainly be able to find a way to pass the time, but all he seemed to 
be doing was wondering just where, exactly, his night had gone wrong.  
Jim had certainly still been with him at 'partner'.  And at 
'relationship' he even seemed to be mildly interested.  It was at 
'feelings' that he seemed to start to twig to where Blair was going.  
Began to shift a little uncomfortably.

"I love him,"  said Blair softly to himself, shaking his head a little 
at his folly.  He'd get over it, eventually, get used to being just 
Jim's good buddy again.  But right then, at that moment, he still felt 
that tingly rush of love at picturing Jim, and thinking back on 
everything they'd done together and everything they'd meant to one 
another.  

Opening his bedroom door, he padded into the deserted kitchen and peered 
into the fridge.  He'd stashed a box of chocolates in there earlier, the 
romantic notion in his head that he and Jim might find some time to feed 
them to one another.  Despite the fact that he was alone, they'd 
probably still taste pretty good right about now.  It was just his luck 
that the one he picked up was a juicy, cherry-filled one, the too-sweet 
juice  dripping over his lip.  He lapped it up with his own tongue and 
tried not to wonder how that little scenario would have played out if he 
hadn't been alone.

Leaning back against the island, he finally admitted to himself that he 
was hurting.  It should have been obvious--probably was--but it was hard 
to admit something like that, that someone had the power over him to 
make him feel that way.  If only they could have talked, could have 
discussed it like adults.  But no, Jim had left without a word, looking 
for all the world like a scared rabbit fleeing the wolf.

Blair didn't feel much like the wolf.

More like a wounded bird, if that wasn't too melodramatic.  Even though 
he was alone, he blushed at the self-indulgent thought.  This wasn't any 
kind of wound, just a bit of a setback.  Reaching into the tacky heart-
shaped box he popped another chocolate into his mouth  and chewed it 
indelicately.  It didn't take long to finish half the box--it was mostly 
foil and ribbon and lace when it really came down to it.  The sticky 
sweetness of them was beginning to lie heavily inside him.  Or maybe 
that was just his heart, not that that wasn't an unforgivably 
melodramatic notion too.

He shoved the box away, the lid slipping over the side of the counter 
and drifting lifelessly down to the floor.  A noise at the door startled 
him, and he pushed himself out into the open, knowing enough to be ready 
for anything.  

Except Jim.

"Hey, Chief," he said, his eyes downcast, the guilt clear in his voice.  
Blair found that his words were stuck in his throat.  He'd intended to 
be glib, to set Jim at ease again, but the weight of his feelings came 
crashing down on him and not a single sound came out.  "Um...how are you 
doing?"

He didn't feel bad for not being able to answer that...it didn't deserve 
an answer.

"I..." Jim lost his words at this point, raising his eyes and looking at 
his partner tentatively.  "I'm sorry?"

Blair nodded.  "It's fine," he managed to get out.  "It's not your 
fault..."

"Yeah, well...wait 'til you hear what I'm apologizing for."  Blair 
didn't think he could wait, but he did.  Didn't think he was ready to 
hear whatever kind of excuses or reasons Jim had managed to come up with 
while he was gone.

"I'm sorry I left."  Blair nodded.

"And...I'm sorry I couldn't deal with it."  Blair nodded.

"And...and...I'm sorry that it's taken me this long to figure out what 
the hell I've been feeling for you."  Blair's head shot up and caught 
Jim's eyes.

Words became impossible; before he knew it Jim was leaning towards 
Blair's parted lips, capturing them and tasting them thoroughly.  When 
he pulled away his eyes were bright, but he never would have admitted to 
tears.  Spying the box of chocolates on the counter, he laughed in spite 
of himself, then sobered quickly as he saw the hurt creeping back onto 
Blair's face, replacing the astonishment.

From behind his back, he pulled out a box of chocolates.  "It was all I 
could get my hands on this late," he said sheepishly, lifting the lid 
like a peace offering.  Blair shook his head, his lips turning up in a 
bit of a grin.  Jim looked confused and a bit afraid, then seemed to 
catch on.  He lifted a chocolate out of the box and held it up, letting 
Blair's lips wrap around his fingers as he devoured it.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Chief," he whispered.  "I love you."

--end--