A/N:

First fanfiction ever uploaded to the site! Normally, I'm not all that into writing fanfics, but of course the wonderful book A Separate Peace was just so awesome I couldn't resist! It's just a little drabble, not much, but I put quite a bit of passion into it. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Obviously, the characters do not belong to me; they belong to the magnificent master author known as John Knowles (may he rest in peace!)

I hope my style does him justice!

-Reddie

Something happened that night we slept on the beach, something we vowed never to speak about with anyone else for as long as we both lived. With one half of that deal now deceased, I suppose there's no harm in divulging it anymore… not that anyone had ever wanted to hear about it. The memory to this day still evokes strange ethereal emotions in me, emotions I could decode and completely understand if I desired to, yet I leave them untouched for reasons I don't wish to identify to even myself.

In the middle of that night, I awoke without rhyme or reason, most likely from a trifling bodily discomfort. Smooth fine-grained sand, though romantic in quality under the silky pastel light of the moon, was most certainly not the ideal place for one to find his repose. I turned in adjustment to lie on my back, and blearily let my eyes flutter open.

My vision was hazy, but my skin could most definitely feel. As my sight refocused, I saw no moon but instead my friend looming overhead, with his hair hanging like gossamer curtains over his face. The glint of blue-green fire flickered before my eyes in his, before he descended and allowed our lips to meet.

By instinct, my hands flew upwards, not to push him away, but rather to pull him closer. Our mouths meshed together, as smoothly as the waves of the sea lapped against the sands of the shore, and even to this day, I still believe in our lives that there was no other instance ever known for two people to fit together so well. My lips were no longer mine but his. My tongue was no longer mine but his. And Finny himself seemed to melt into me, from his face to his arms, as if by the heat of a kiss we'd been fused together pivotally at the lips. His breath was not his but mine. His heartbeat was not his but mine. In that moment, I lost truly myself. I could not tell where Finny ended and Gene began. We were simply one.

And I suddenly found myself awake the next moment, Finny stock still in the dawn light before he came to back life.

"I… I had a very strange dream." I muttered to myself, mind barely working. He glanced at me off-handedly once I'd said this, before placing a hand over his mouth. I tried to make eye contact, but he looked away once I turned to him. His face seemed a deeper shade of pink than the shirt he wore at the headmaster's tea…

"It wasn't." he stated clearly. And I thought his confession of naked emotion was suicide…

"Finny?" I meant to simply say his name, but it came out more as a question.

"You're not going to tell." He blurted more as a statement rather than a request. It took me a moment to process before nodding slowly. This wasn't sufficient for him, "Gene, you're not going to tell, right?" Hesitation tinged his voice. His Adam's apple twitched in apprehension. Silence crossed between us before I could find my voice again.

"Of course." I finally said aloud to reassure him. "But just… I'm having some trouble understanding why?"

"I thought I was having a strange dream too… anyway, it's not like I can control what I dream of, and well, now it seems that your superior brainpower has rubbed off on me to the point where my own subconscious mind has taken over in real life." he laughed lightly, before suddenly slapping his hands on his thighs. "And yes, I mean, it truly does fit when you think about it symbolically. Kisses are a like a symbol of alliance and unity and acceptance, and, well, that's exactly I how I feel about you. We are best pals, after all." He sent a dazzling smile, and I was speechless. But he seemed to be urging more words out of me with the hypnotizing power of his eyes. Even so, my hesitation won out in the end. I couldn't and still can't expose things as openly as Finny could. I wasn't and still am not as brave as him in that sense, as much as I'd like to be. Sensing this, he filled in the silence again, "Right, so swear on our lives that we take this lovely little secret to our grave."

I pushed the words out, "I swear, Finny." And he nodded, looking pleased.

"Oh, and one more thing. Was that your first kiss?" When he asked this, I simply stared and then blinked in astonishment, realizing what he just he stole.

"Yes."

"You sound upset." He chuckled, nudging me, "Hey, don't worry, it was mine too."

"And yet you're not upset?" I stared in disbelief. He was just something else entirely…

"Well, yes, of course I'm not. When you think about it, we're lucky—no, blessed, actually. For most people the first time around, not everyone gets to kiss or even be kissed by someone they really care about. I'm glad it turned out to be you, even if it was unintentional. So, you should be glad too."

I gave a sigh, and then laughed.

"Yes, you're right," I replied, "I should be glad."

Of course, only Finny could get away with kissing his best friend and roommate. Had it been any other boy, I would've most definitely lost face with him completely for the rest of my days at Devon. But I could never do that to Finny. That was unimaginable. No, I could never lose Finny, not to anything, not even to a kiss and its corresponding excuse.

Yes, of course, it made perfect sense that only Finny could get away with it.