This story was inspired by the poem 'The Last Time' by W. D. Snodgrass, which was posted to the bottom of the story.
It was not the first time, nor would it be the last time Speed watched this display. He would not lie, he missed it.
He could remember the last time he had been close to Eric. Back when Eric loved him.
He could recall the last time Eric had touched him. In every way it had said goodbye. The soft caresses of his cheek, gentle kisses along his jaw ending on the tip of his nose, the need to hold him so tightly before he finally let go.
Speed would not blame either. Things like this happened. When Ryan came around, everyone loved him. They were delighted to just talk with him.
They had never forgotten him of course; it was just that Ryan was new. Even he liked the young man.
But Eric, Eric hadn't just liked him. He had fallen in love with him.
And so Speed stood, watching, waiting patiently as Eric boldly pulled Ryan to him and kissed him fiercly. They had long since stopped caring who saw them. Passion was common between them as they stood in the middle of the hall.
And then Eric released his younger lover and turned to his friend, smiling.
"Let's go," he said, indicating the elevators. Speed nodded and followed him out.
Fin.
"The Last Time"
W. D. Snodgrass
Three years ago, one last time, you forgot
Yourself and let your hand, all gentleness,
Reach to my hair, slipping down to caress
My cheek, my neck. My breath failed me; I thought
It might all come back yet, believed you might
Turn back. You turned, then, once more to your own
Talk with that young man for whom you'd shown,
In front of all our friends, such clear delight
All afternoon. And you recalled the long
Love you had held for me was changed. You threw
Both arms around him, kissed him, and then you
Said you were ready and we went along.