Daniel's hair was sandy and storm-tossed, making him appear deceptively careless. His eyes, permanently fixed on some distant point within himself, were rock-crystal green. His motions, calm and fluid, were never hurried. He refused to say more than circumstances forced. His entire being radiated with veracity and sincerity, shimmering summer paint so warm and soft and rare. He sometimes had a bewildered hurt in his eyes that made the dark one want to cry. Daniel was easily disturbed, and wondered why people would hurt him, but he didn't ever cry. He just grimaced and bore it. He was staring earnestly into thin air just then; what he was thinking only God and Darren knew.

Their personalities were stars and planets apart, yet they were inseparable. They would choke faster without each other than without air. They were in love. But Daniel was unaware of this rather obvious fact. He constantly worshipped Darren, showed his adoration with hushed words, selfless actions, but it never occurred to him that he loved Darren. Darren didn't push it because he was afraid of accidentally inviting the bewildered hurt into Daniel's eyes. The unwelcome intruder slipped in often enough without any prompting from Darren.

And so the matter lay between them. Quietly waiting for the right moment to spring up and make itself obvious because it had gotten tired of being ignored. Only, to Daniel, there was no matter all coiled and ready to spring between them. It never occurred to him.

Until it sprang.


~Chapter Two~

The one who thrived on moonlight was driving, slicing through his treasured night air with his equally treasured convertible. The one who thrived on sunlight usually drove, but he had stayed behind tonight, wanting some time of seclusion for himself. Darren was not worried. Rather, he was hopeful. Hopeful that maybe perhaps Daniel would start analyzing his thoughts when he had nothing else to do, and that he would then figure out some of his feelings for Darren. The midnight breeze made him optimistic. It also made his cold bones tremble in his warm flesh. He leaned over to turn on the heat, his eyes instinctively flicking to the rear-view mirror. His heart tried to stop.

Before it could though, the headlights he glimpsed in the mirror had buried themselves into the back of his trunk.

The actual hit didn't hurt him. But his car spun and ricochet'd off a tree. He had a few seconds to watch steel and glass merge, fade, and crumple around him while he wondered why he had not put on his seatbelt. Then he was wrenched into the air. He thought he heard glass shatter, but his head had been twisted around too many times and too fast, much too fast for his thoughts to keep up with. His left side made contact with the ground first, and the rest of him followed, crushing his ribs so that the air rushed from his body. There was a moment of absolute calm, like winter standing still. The pain didn't actually set in until he took a breath.

Darren lay in a white-hot fire, melted to blood and pain. His left pulsed with ecstasies of pain, throbbed and swelled, but it wasn't enough to draw all of his attention from the hot and cold lancing through his back and right side. His head was filled with cold sand, muffling all sounds and sealing his mind, blocking his thoughts. He would have been writhing if he could move. Or maybe he was writhing...he couldn't tell. All he could feel was the fire, then the ice, always accompanied by the total delirium. And while the pain flooded him, he wondered vaguely about his state of consciousness.

Always, in books and movies, people who were hurt fought against an overwhelming blackness that eventually took over them. Darren found that to be untrue. At that moment, he would have given almost anything for darkness to come and dilute his pain. It seemed absurd to him that anyone would fight it. He longed for the sweet numbness that was supposed to come shortly, tried his best to leave the consciousness that meant nothing but pain. His eyes slipped close and he reached for the dark. He begged it to take him, and just when a thought occurred to him, it decided to take him.

But who will tell Daniel, he thought, struggling against the blackness he had fought so hard for only seconds ago. He heard the stifled sound of sirens just before he lost the struggle.


~Chapter Three~

The phone rang, and jagged shards of shattered silence fell noisily, echoing the shrill sound. Long, slim fingers enfolded themselves loosely around cold black plastic. Daniel lifted the phone off the hook and murmured into it.

"Hello?"

"May I speak to Mr. Daniel Jones, please?" A female voice, clipped, indifferent, and practiced, requested in a almost bored fashion.

"You are."

"You were listed as an emergency number in Mr. Darren Hayes's medical file. Mr. Hayes has been involved in a collision."

Daniel only listened long enough to get the address of the hospital the impassive woman called from.

Daniel felt the smooth leather cover of the steering wheel slide along his rough palm as he turned, detoured by yellow tape and flashing lights as cold and apathetic as the lady from the hospital. He refused to let himself look at the skid marks and mutilated metal he knew would be there. As he drove, words shot through his brain. Words that the woman spoke easily and detachedly. Words that hardly registered, because Daniel wasn't listening. Words like 'concussion', and 'broken', and 'internal injuries', and 'major blood loss'. Phrases ran through his head too. Phrases the woman had said in an equally off-handed manner, like 'his seatbelt wasn't on' and 'the trucker escaped unharmed'. Daniel ignored the cold voice and concentrated on driving.

The first thing he noticed when he stepped into the room was how incredibly artificial it was. Little red lights blinked on and off, soft beeps emitted from somewhere, the room reeked of chemicals, and everything felt smooth and slippery---even the air. Daniel sat down on a hard, slippery chair and stared at the unconscious form before him. He tried not to think, because it hurt. But contemplative thinking followed him like a swarm of vicious tse-tse flies, hungry for his blood. So, unwillingly, he thought.

He examined with his eyes the soft, black locks that must have whipped around in the air as their owner was thrown. Voluptuous pink lips that must have let screams and groans of agony slip past. Closed eyelids that must have been wide open in fear. Ivory hands that must have gripped the wheel hard, white-knuckled, not that one would have been able to tell since they were already so pale. Daniel couldn't see the rest of Darren's body, as an impossibly uncaring and artificial blanket covered it, but he could imagine its battered condition without too much difficulty. After all, it was all his fault.

If Daniel hadn't insisted on staying behind, he would have been on the side that sustained the most damage. If Daniel had looked out the window, he would have seen and reminded Darren to put on his seatbelt. If Daniel wasn't so damned confused about his feelings, he wouldn't even have felt the need to stay behind. And if Daniel could let loose every single feeling that raced through his veins the way Darren could...well, *something* would have happened, and Darren would---

His thoughts were broken off by a tired nurse ordering Daniel to go stretch his legs and get some rest, for he had sat awake and unmoving for the entire duration of the night. He didn't believe her, but the pain in his legs as he stood up took her side. He took one last long look at Darren, then limped away.


~Chapter Four~

Daniel drifted lethargically through several streets. He had no trouble accepting the reality of what happened. He accepted it so easily it was frightening. He just put the situation through an almost logical analysis. Everything happened for a reason. The accident was trying to tell either him or Darren something, and Daniel had a feeling it was attempting to get a message across to him. It must have been an obscure message, because Daniel could not think of a single thing important enough for the powers that be to hurt their precious Darren just to tell him.

He stopped to lean against an old brick wall, wise with the many things it had witnessed on the streets, hoping its wisdom would soak into him through osmosis. All of a sudden, the tears came. The sorrow blind-sided him as hard as the truck must have done to Darren, and he broke down on the brick wall. The wall held him up caringly, much more caringly than the hospital blanket that cocooned Darren. Why did his thoughts keep on shifting to Darren? Because Darren is bleeding and broken and hooked up to a million machines that could not care less, and it was all his fault, he answered himself harshly. A new surge of tears scalded his eyes at that thought. How could he hurt the one he cared so much about? Darren would never do such a thing to him, so why would he? And why wouldn't the nagging feeling that he was missing the point go away?

His brain demanded him to take a breath, but his lungs refused to let him. His tear ducts supported his lungs, as did his heart. But his legs didn't, and so promptly gave out. He collapsed onto the ground, shaking and sobbing. Not a single person stopped to ask if he was alright. He tried to breathe, but his lungs were still being stubborn and he choked on the air. After several moments of struggling, he finally managed to start breathing again. He looked up hazily, and the first thing to meet his eyes was a couple walking down the sidewalk. The man had his arm around the woman's shoulders, holding her close. Just before they turned a corner, the man whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pulled his face down, kissing him quickly. A new nagging feeling developed in Daniel's stomach. He wanted to know what the man said.

Daniel wasn't sure how he occupied himself for the rest of the day. He couldn't recollect a single specific detail of the day. All he knew was that the nagging feeling would not leave him alone. Every other minute was spent deliberating the words of the man. He had stopped asking himself why he needed to know about two hours after the couple had appeared and disappeared. He would now be satisfied with just finding out what the man had said so the feeling would go away.

The wind blew above him and around him, not bothering to push at him since it had learned not so long ago that it would just be ignored. Daniel sauntered, letting his feet do the directing so his mind could be left free for pondering. What had the man said?! He growled in frustration. But all his thoughts melted into thin air when he noticed his feet had dragged him to the steps of the hospital. He would see Darren again. Limp, unresponsive, unnaturally silent, yet alive and therefore Darren nonetheless. And all of a sudden, with astounding clarity, he saw the answer he had been looking for all day. The man had whispered to the girl exactly what Daniel would whisper to Darren if he could have him safe and sound again.

The man had said, "I love you."


~Chapter Five~

"Oh, Mr. Jones! Mr. Hayes just woke up several minutes ago. He has gone back to sleep now...you just missed him."

Daniel hoped the 'ha ha too bad for you' tone of voice he heard in the nurse's words was just a product of his imagination, because he would otherwise be deeply hurt. He was bursting with his newfound purpose. It was becoming crucial to Daniel to tell Darren all about the huge mess of feelings he had untangled and the Truth he'd found after the chaos was straightened out. He had just scarcely missed his opportunity, and would now have to wait for the next one. He very carefully sank down onto the same slippery chair he was in before and readied himself for a lengthy wait.

An indifferent digital clock sat on a smooth, cold stand by the bed. The clock gave no indication of caring that the flickering symbols it displayed meant that second after irreplaceable second of life was passing by, and could never be regained. Daniel alternately watched the aloof clock and his pallid companion on the bed. He did not worry about the changing, glowing numbers and what they meant, because time spent with Darren was never time wasted. As clichéd and atrociously sentimental as it sounded, Daniel extracted inspiration from the essence of Darren's beauty. Of course, it was easier to get inspiration from an awake Darren, but he never passed up a single opportunity to just gaze at him, soak in all the little minute things one would miss unless he was staring. Daniel was staring. Therefore, he saw the small curl of hair balanced delicately on the pale curve of Darren's ear. He saw the faint, almost invisible line on Darren's temple, the skin very slightly lighter than the already light skin around it, a tan line from his much-loved sunglasses, a tan line on a person who didn't tan. He saw the slightly jagged edge of the nail on Darren's left pinky, most probably from chewing, and could picture with his mind's eye the way he looked when he chewed it. Thoughtful, with a crease between his brows, frowning in absorption. Daniel's lips quirked into an almost smile. How could Truth have evaded him for so long? Looking back, Daniel saw that he must have looked so obviously smitten. And to have never noticed himself?!

Darren lay behind his eyelids, not quite hiding but at the same time not quite brave enough to open his eyes. He had awoken before, he knew that, but it was for such an infinitesimal amount of time that he couldn't really remember it. All he recalled was a thick veil of blurriness hanging over his brain, and tremendous pain everywhere else. He did not particularly want to experience that again. But the one fear that refrained him from opening his eyes was not pain. It was nothingness. Darren did not want to wake to see nothing but black. He did not want to wake to silence so absolute he could hear his blood crawl along his veins. He did not want to wake to aloneness so complete that he could picture himself deserted in the universe. He really did not want to wake to find he actually was deserted in the universe.

Every one of those fears, and more, were disintegrated when he heard the sound of someone else's shallow breathing.

Darren opened his eyes.


~Chapter Six~

The pillow beneath his head was not soft and did not pillow his head. It simply kept his head from the bed, which was not soft either. Nor was the blanket that covered him. It was heavy and lifeless, a bit of a burden, really. The room was dim and cool and dotted with spatters of green and red lights. The silence was synthetic but deep, yet constantly interrupted by muted beeps. The beeps were often accompanied by the blinking off of tiny red lights. The sharp smell of clean saturated everything. Little spiders of moonlight that managed to evade capture by the blinds crawled across the floor and up the wall, leaving their incandescent threads behind to illuminate the room.

Yet Darren did not notice any of this. The only thing he was aware of was the slender figure draped over a plastic pretense of a chair. The figure glowed with his own bottled sunlight, strangely out of place in the cold, dark room. Darren swallowed a smile. The figure was Daniel.

Daniel subtly gasped. Darren had awakened. Of all the emotions he was expected to feel, from relief to elation to excitement, the one his heart and mind chose for him was fear. Now that Darren was awake, there was no turning back from his previous resolution. He had to tell Darren his feelings. He was under no illusions; he knew Darren knew. He could not pleasantly surprise him even if he tried. And if he lied or made a mistake, Darren would know, and it would be tallied against him. But I'm not ready!!! His brain screamed, panicked. I haven't sorted out all my feelings, and I'll end up sounding stupid beyond belief! He took a full breath, then tried to breathe out all of his dread along with the spent air. He opened his mouth---

And was interrupted.

"Hello, Daniel," a melodious and slightly hoarse voice greeted softly. Daniel could hear the smile in his voice.

"H-h-hi. Darren. Um, how are you feeling?" Daniel dampened his lips with the tip of his tongue, a bit relieved and a bit frustrated that his admission would have to be delayed.

"I'm not really sure. If I say I hurt heaps and all over, will you freak out and start apologizing?" That was his cheeky and oh so Darrenistic reply.

Daniel gave a small smile. "Maybe..."

Darren smiled back. "I actually feel very stupid and incredibly lucky. I cannot believe I forgot to put on my seatbelt, and I am so glad I survived to learn the lesson."

"Not as glad as I am," Daniel said softly. He sighed mentally and thought, oh boy, the confession has begun.

Darren just grinned. He shifted, trying to get into a more comfortable position, and gave up when he realized he was sore all over. He had an idea of what was coming, but there was no way he could be sure. He waited impatiently, fidgeting with enthusiasm to the best of his abilities.

"I'm, well, when you were, y'know, out, unconscious, whatever, I got to thinking, and, um," Daniel said haltingly, stumbling over his unsure words, only half-coherent but plenty cute.

"Go on," Darren prompted, sensibly filtering the laughter from his voice. Daniel looked so sweet like that, looking intently at his feet, lengthy fingers fiddling with a frayed corner of the blanket, almost completely at a loss for words.

"Well, I was thinking, something sorta came to me. Um...oh, jeez, uh, okay. I was thinking back, and we've known each other for a long time, right? And we've worked together a lot, and hung out together, so I think I know you pretty well. We---You've always made me feel, I dunno, special, and we enjoy being together, but I never really thought about that, y'know. And I thought about it today, and I thought and I thought, because I thought there might be chance we'd never get to hang out again." Daniel heaved a sigh, wishing he could just spit it out. "What I'm trying to say, I guess, is that it never occurred to me how good of a friend you really are, and that was *not* what I was trying to say!" He groaned in frustration. Why the hell was this so hard?! He took a moment to make several weak attempts at calming and collecting himself. "What Im really trying to say is that, um, that---"

"It's okay, Daniel. I know," Darren murmured tranquilly. "I know what you're trying to say." He took pity on Daniel. The poor man had been groping for words for almost an hour, letting long pauses interrupt his speech. The sun had begun to rise, just barely peeking over the horizon, and the sky was awash with a faint glimmer. Darren decided he would make do with a near-confession and put him out of his misery.

"No," Daniel said firmly. "No. I have to say this. I have to." He stopped yet again to use his well-exercised lungs. "Darren, I know you know this, and you have probably, well, you've probably wanted to whack me for not seeing it, but thank you for waiting for me to realize it for myself. Look, um, I should've seen it a long time ago, but I'm inattentive like that. I'm sorry I didn't grasp this sooner, and I'm really, really sorry for still dancing around the point." Daniel halted to increase his oxygen intake once more. This was getting ridiculous. "Darren, IthinkIloveyou," he blurted hurriedly.

Darren laughed, unable to force his mirth to stay inside any longer. "Oh, Daniel. I guess I'll settle for that."

Daniel bit his lip and sighed just one more time. "Darren," he said slowly. "I. Love. You."

Darren spread his arms invitingly, and Daniel edged into them, gasping when they pulled his to Darren's face. "You are so...unique and cute. I'm proud of you," Darren told Daniel before pulling him down farther to kiss him. He could feel Daniel smile against his lips.

Natural light streamed into the artificial room, chasing out the shadows so that it was now Darren's turn to seem out of place, not Daniel's. Darren glanced down at the warm but definitely not soft bundle cradled, asleep, in his arms. Bony and athletic, and golden and sweet, and all his. He shivered with happiness, briefly enlarging the smile that had graced his face since Daniel started speaking. The sun had fully risen, enfolding the entire city within a curtain of gold. Darren closed his eyes and felt the warmth all around him. The sun's brightness was no match for what Darren was feeling inside. He squeezed Daniel softly before sliding into sleep.