Flight
-- Snowgrouse
"Always trusted you."
Avon took a step forward, to follow Blake, then braced himself against the corridor wall as the ship lurched.
"Trusted you."
He felt dizzy, lightheaded, but that was just the ship moving, just the ship, just the ship...
He shook his head.
Blake turned to face him. Avon had never seen him this weary, the sadness and the determination on Blake's face leaving him where he stood. Blake's voice, too, was tired.
"I'm leaving."
And then Blake kissed him.
Blake pushed him, cold Avon, against cold herculaneum, gave him no room to struggle between wall and man. He held Avon still, with sadness and anger, daring him to move.
And kissed him again.
Rough, then gentle, and Avon felt a warmth in his gut, a warmth in his chest, expanding, his breath hitching in his throat, something cracking, something breaking, something shattering. He raised his hand to hold Blake to him, to laugh, to smile, to kiss him back, but Blake was already gone.
Leaving. And this is why.
Avon's hands balled into fists. A punch at the wall, two, three, several. Some bruised knuckles later he made his way back to the flight deck. He didn't feel his hands as they manipulated the controls. The sight on the viewscreen was detached and unreal, like everything except the burning on his face. Blake's lips, Blake's stubble, Blake's bloody idiocy...
Well now, perhaps in a while he wouldn't need to worry about that.
As the Andromedan fleet came into range, he smiled his most inviting smile.