Randy has to find a way to deal with Chris' departure.

The coarse, gray gravel crunched beneath his feet as he trudged slowly along the sun dappled path. What had begun as just another early morning run had gradually downgraded into nothing more than a solitary sojourn.

Randy knew that Chris would be wondering where he was. But watching him pack for his trip had proven to be just a little too painful, so using his run as an excuse, he had left the house quickly. But all the running in the world wasn't going to help him escape his feelings.

As he approached the end of the path he could see their house in the distance. It was still early. The grass was covered with dew and the silence was only occasionally broken by the lonely call of a single bird.

Randy could relate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris had two suitcases laid open on the bed. One for his "normal" wardrobe.....jeans, T-shirts and other assorted articles. The other was for his "performing clothes." The clothes set aside to be worn on the Fozzy tour he had dreamed about for three years.

He was silently eyeing both of them trying to determine if anything was missing when he glanced down at his watch. Randy had been gone for over an hour, which was nearly twice as long as his run normally took. Taking a few short steps, he lifted one of the slats on the blinds to peer outside. At just the same moment he heard the front door close and the sound of footsteps slowly making their way up the stairs.

Chris turned in the direction of the bedroom door prepared to smile .

The figure that appeared made the smile dissolve into a concerned frown.

Randy's head was down. His breathing was slow and even. Not the sign of a man who had just finished a long run.

"Hey...you OK?" Chris asked. "You were gone a long time."

Randy continued to stand in the doorway. Almost as if refusing to enter the room would make everything that was happening less real.

"I'm fine," he replied quietly. "I decided to make it a walk instead."

"Oh.......OK."

Chris knew that Randy was unhappy. He had known it for days. And he also knew that he was the source of that unhappiness. Nothing specific had ever been said. But each time Chris even mentioned the fall Fozzy tour Randy seemed to shut down. He would listen politely, nod some faint encouragement but always remain silent.

Like now.

"You do know why I'm doing this....don't you?"

Randy's head snapped up. Chris was staring at him almost defiantly. Apparently he had decided that it was time to stop dancing around the issue.

"Of course I do," he answered shortly.

"Are you sure?" Chris persisted. "Because it sure as hell seems like you're seeing this as a my way of putting as much distance between us as possible."

Randy remained silent his soft gray eyes locked with the cool blue ones of his lover.

Chris could see the muscles of his jaw working as he struggled with his emotions.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, his words slow and carefully chosen.

"Why do you always treat me like a kid? Why do you always think I need things explained to me?"

And for just a moment, Chris was the one who was silent. "What the hell are you talking about?" he finally said. "I never treat you like that."

"Like hell you don't," Randy snapped. His reluctance to face the situation now long gone. If Chris wanted to stop the dance, he was more than ready.

"You knew how much seeing you leave would hurt...but you still avoided talking to me about it. You walk around with this big smile getting all excited about finally living your dream with the band. And believe it or not...I'm happy for you. But what has me so damn confused is why you didn't want to make me a part of it."

"A part of it?" asked in confusion. "I don't think I understand."

"No shit," mumbled Randy as he finally moved all the way into the room.

He stopped no more than a foot from Chris. Close enough to feel his breath. "I thought we were past playing games with each other. I thought I was more than you're little plaything. I do know how much this means to you. But what I don't know is why you can't seem to understand what it means to me." He looked around the room gesturing expansively. "We've traveled a long road to get here. But I thought we finally made it. I thought we were both ready to share everything with each other. We have a life together here. Or at least I thought we did."

"You know damn well we do," Chris cut in. "And if you want to know why I avoided talking to you the answer is simple."

Randy's mouth hardened into a thin line as he waited for Chris to continue.

Taking a long, deep breath Chris went on.

"I'm not blind you know. I could see that this tour was hardly your favorite topic of conversation. I knew the thought of the two of us being on opposite sides of the world was hard to handle. And you want to know how I knew? Because I was feeling exactly the same way."

He reached out a hand and took one of Randy's. And in spite of his roiling emotions, Randy welcomed the familiar touch.

"I have to do this Randy. But wanting this doesn't mean I want you less."

The words seemed to reach out and wrap around Randy's heart. Leaning forward he dropped his head so that their foreheads were touching. "So why couldn't you just have said that weeks ago?" he murmured.

Chris shrugged and smiled. "You know me. For someone with a big mouth I don't talk much."

Then reaching up he caressed the side of Randy's neck. His slender fingers curled gently on the soft skin. "A lot of things could be changing you know. My wrestling career, my music. But one thing will be staying the same. And I think you already knew that."

The kiss was sweet, soft and lingering. The passion would be reserved for later. Right then there was something more important passing between them.

A trust that neither had felt before.

"Do me a favor, will you?" Chris finally asked.

"Anything."

"Would you go downstairs and get my other bag? I left it by the front door. I want to pack my CD's...and maybe a picture or two."

Randy claimed one more quick kiss before backing to the door. "I get to pick the pictures...right?"

Laughing, Chris waved him out the door and then stood listening to the sound of his retreating footsteps.

As silently as possible he slid open a nearby desk drawer and removed a white envelope. Randy's name had been written neatly across the front.

Chris quickly crossed the room to Randy's dresser and opened the top drawer. Working fast, he slid the envelope under several shirts and then eased it closed again.

Randy was notorious for packing for house shows at the last minute. So he'd never find the letter until Chris was well on his way to Australia.

He knew that every word he had written on those pages was straight from his heart. And Randy really deserved to hear them and not just read them.

One day he would.

And oddly enough Chris found himself looking forward to it.