Just a short note-Yes, I do know that George R. R. Martin disapproves of fanfiction. I actually disapprove of him writing such engaging books, then killing so many wonderful characters (like Renly). Therefore, this is my revenge for Martin's "Anyone can die" philosophy. I don't mean anything by it, except that I was sad that Renly died, and that there are not many stories for Loras and Renly, despite the fact that they are much more canon than most fan pairings (at least in the HBO show). I have not read all of the books, so there may be inaccuracies. But let me repeat-I am not trying to write like Martin, or even write in his universe. I just want these two to have some kind of resolution in my mind at least, and this is what it is. Believe what you will, and think what you will about Game of Thrones fanfiction. Although based on the fact that you're reading this, I doubt you have quite the same view as Martin.

So, funny story. I went onto the Game of Thrones category and was like, dude, where's my fic? Then I realized that there are two relevant categories: Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire and I posted to the latter one. So to preserve my future sanity, and to of course, get more reads. So if you see this in two categories, you're not hallucinating. But if you want to review them both, I won't complain!

Anyway, enjoy.

Loras supposed that this must be the afterlife, because he was most definitely dead. Because standing before him was Renly, looking as young as the day that he died.

If it were another situation, he might have considered a lot of things: how he died, what he looked like, where he was-but all of those thoughts were put on hold at the thought of his once dead lover. Renly, who had died before his time because Loras had told him that he would make a wonderful king. Innocent Renly, who really was not cut out for the intensity of politics, but who, at his lover's urging, had joined the game which would be his death. The guilt which had been constantly present since Renly's death flared up for a moment, then evaporated as his body (was it really his body, or something else entirely?) realized what his mind was still figuring out. Renly was here. Here, wherever in heaven or hell this was, and standing in front of him smiling. There were no more thoughts as he crossed the distance between them and almost literally threw himself into his lover's arms.

And suddenly he was crying, sobbing against Renly's shoulder, which was just as strong and solid as it was in life. And he was trying to talk, but the words were all running together into a mess of "Oh gods Renly I'm sorry I'm so sorry I love you I missed you I never thought I'd see you again and gods I'm sorry that I ever pushed you into those damned politics because I love you so much and I lost you and it was my fault-" and then the words choked off and he was sobbing as Renly stroked his hair gently like he always used to do in bed as they woke up earlier than everyone else so Loras could sneak back to his own room. Except now they were embracing, in plain view of wherever they were, and they didn't care. Amidst all the overwhelming emotions, Loras felt relief and freedom at being able to openly show affection for his sister's husband, of all people, even if it was in the afterlife. (Of course, Renly had been his first and Margaery knew that, but seeing his lover marry his sister had still been a thousand times harder than riding against Gregor Clegane.)

Then Renly was speaking, his voice-that voice that had been silent for so many years-rumbling right into Loras's ears. His words were enthusiastic but not frantic. He whispered "I missed you" and "It's not your fault, it never was your fault" and "I'm so proud of what you have done" and "I've watched you every day." And they stayed like that, locked in a tight embrace filled with tensed muscles from gripping so hard and small tender movements of fingers on a back, a neck, an arm. It was the clinging of people who had lost each other once, and now that they had found each other again, their first instinct was to grab on and never let go again. All was silent except for Loras's quiet sobbing and Renly's soft murmurs.

When they had held each other long enough to ensure that they were, in fact, real, Renly pulled back, just enough to look his lover in the eye while maintaining as much contact as possible. He smiled, somewhat disbelievingly, "Gods, Loras, I forgot to say I love you." And he tried to make up for it, mouthing the words against the man's ear, his cheek, his palm, finally returning to just making eye contact as he repeated for the umpteenth time. "I love you Loras. In case you couldn't tell."

Loras laughed, a short and unsteady laugh that revealed how much he really had been crying. "You didn't have to say it. I can hear it in everything you say, in every touch, every look. I've longed for you for so long now. Just touching you is enough for me now." At Loras's statement, Renly pulled them back together, bodies flush against each other. The way they stood was intimate, but not sexual, based on comfort rather than arousal. They would have plenty of time for that later.

Eventually Loras would have to figure out what this afterlife thing was like. Where they lived and how they lived and what they could do. But at that moment, with Renly, his Renly, pressed against him so tightly that he could feel every muscle and sinew, he really couldn't bring himself to give a damn.