Murai: Another song fic (in a way). Well, it's based off a song.

Just a note: My definition of 'lovers' are an engaged couple or a married couple. Fyi.

Song: Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy
Rating: T
Warning: AU, Set in America during World War II, near the South coast, mentions of character death, angst, sadness, BoyxBoy. You are warned.
Characters: Ryoma E. and Takeshi M.


"I thought you wanted to see me happy, you bastard!" He yelled at the picture and threw it across the room. He stared at the shattered glass before busting out into tears again and fell to his knees.

"If you wanted me happy, then why did you go and get yourself killed," he whispered before crawling over to the shattered picture frame and slowly picking the picture out of the glass. "Why, I never want to see you unhappy, and I thought you'd want the same for me."

The picture stared back at the young man. On it were two boys, one a tall black haired teen with purple eyes and a big smile and the other a much smaller boy with green-tinted black hair and golden brown eyes.

Ryoma stared at the picture and laid it back down and slowly got up and made his way to the couch. He laid down on it and stared up at the ceiling. His mate had wanted to paint it a dark blue shade to match the rest of the house, but the two never had gotten around to it.

He sighed as he flipped over onto his side and hugged his knees to his chest. His thoughts went back to the first time they kissed. The other's eyes were a purple flame and his fingertips that ghosted his skin were fire. Ryoma remembered the palm trees that swayed in the summer wind. The images flooded his senses fast and smothered him.

He got up and went to his cell phone. He remembered saving a recording of the other's voice singing him a Spanish lullaby one night without the other knowing. Just so he could here his voice when he was away. His boyfriend's voice came from out of the small speakers and flowed like rich caramel. Ryoma loved the sound and he listened more. Another image came to mind of his lover kissing him goodnight for the last time.

Ryoma remembered the taller's eyes held the sweetest sadness, as though he knew something Ryoma didn't, but he kept a smile on and pretended everything was perfectly fine. He went on with his normally cheerful banter and never left a time for Ryoma to quiz him on it. It was a clever trick, but he didn't mind. Ryoma loved how his Takeshi cared enough not to bring anything sad in that night.

The lyrical lullaby went off, and Ryoma repeated it. He remembered the time they were walking down main street the day President Roosevelt declared war on the Axis Powers. It was so crowded with excited people. Someone was playing music on the side of the road. Takeshi had taken Ryoma by the hands and swung him around, doing a small dance as the passed the music players.

He moved from room to room, remembering the images that Ryoma associated with each. The last thing he laid eyes on was a picture on his bedstand, of Takeshi in his Army uniform and a big smile. The day he had to leave to go to fight the Axis powers, he kissed Ryoma on the lips and told his he'd remember all the memories they had made over the years, and he'd replay them in his mind at night. And he was gone.

He laid on the bed and burst into tears all over again. After a few minutes, he sat up and yelled at the picture. "I cannot go to the ocean. I cannot drive the streets at night. I cannot not wake up in the morning with out you on my mind. You're gone and I'm left haunted. And… I bet you're fine up there in heaven…"

Ryoma sighed and brought his knees to his chest. "Did I really make it that easy to walk right in and out of my life?"

He reached out and grabbed the picture. "Goodbye, my almost lover." He laughed and shook his head. "Goodbye my hopeless dream. I'm trying not to think about you… can't you let me be?"

He stood and walked to the bay window in his room, clutching the picture to his chest. "So long, my luckless romance. My back is turned on you. I should've known you'd bring me heart ache…"

He turned and laid the picture down and walked out the room.

"Almost lovers always do…"