The life of a G-Man is supposed to be simple.
His objective was simply to watch over the man who lived in the house. He was to record all of the man's comings and goings. He was instructed to note what times the man slept and ate, what times he scribbled on his walls and what time he sat and pondered. He was told to watch the man closely. It seemed simple.
But one day he began to watch him closer than was necessary. He began to scribble away at his notepad constantly. He noticed the way the man tilted his head, his smile, his frown, the coolness with which the man made his calculations. He became mesmerized with these movements, these routines, and after a while his day was off if he hadn't seen the man walk to his mailbox, grab the paper and run to the house, screaming in terror.
Boyd.
His name was Boyd. The man's name, which was foreign and suspicious and short, was Boyd. Once he'd discovered that, he knew he could no longer watch the man without some attachment. For now he was not watching an animal, a specimen, or an intruder. He was watching a person.
That person displayed surprising vulnerability. Oh, sure, he knew how to hide from the rest of society, but that was where his strength ended. Deep down he was an innocent, a confused man who should never have dug as deep as he did. Such a thing could happen to any civilian, but that it would happen to one so timid by nature was a disaster. That disaster wrenched at the G-Man's heart and, though he knew he shouldn't, he felt some compassion for Boyd.
It was worst when Boyd was sleeping. His eyes closed, hat off, he dozed in a chair that was nowhere near comfortable. His body, bulky compared to his watcher's, would curl up in a desperate attempt to keep some heat. He would appear to be slumbering deeply, yet the tiniest noise and he jumped up. Until that time came, however, he was so naïve looking and carefree his watcher felt tempted to….
To what, exactly? What was it that he wanted to do?
The answer was not simple. It went beyond his training, this feeling. He felt as if he would like to see that face up close, not through binoculars or peepholes, but by standing there in front of the man. He felt as if he would like to know what that old, wrinkled uniform felt like. He wanted to know how the man smelled, how his timid eyes looked up close, and how his skin felt. He knew the man took baths, but he never attempted to find a vantage point from which he could view such an event. The thought was simply horrifying. What was worse, it was tempting.
These temptations drove him over the edge one night.
He crept as close to the house as he dared, closer than ever before, closer than a G-Man had a right to. He was silent as the night that enveloped the neighborhood. His heart hammered in his chest. The others were not here, they could not see, yet he couldn't help wonder what they would say if they had seen him like this. His hands were shaking as they undid the latch on the window. He took a deep breath. There was no turning back now. He opened the window, the glass sliding back without a sound.
Dead quiet, he padded across the room on booted feet to where his subject lay, fast asleep. The moonlight streamed in through the blinds and the open window, giving everything a blue glow. He stopped right beside the man. Boyd's soft breathing was the only sound he could hear. For what seemed to be a long time, he listened to the noise and, satisfied it was slow and steady enough for Boyd to really be asleep, he reached out his hand.
His fingers brushed rough skin, and he felt the tell-tale stickiness on Boyd's cheeks. That could only mean the man had been crying. He scolded himself in his mind for not seeing that earlier and recording it. He'd been so nervous about this, so afraid someone would see his intentions, he couldn't focus. Now, here he was, touching his subject, touching Boyd, touching the one rumored to have connections to the outside.
He kneeled over, closer and closer. Did he dare touch Boyd with anything but his hands? Surely the man would wake up. Even so, he leaned in, taking Boyd's face in one hand and lifting it towards his.
Such a move was simply not a wise idea.
Boyd shoved his off with surprising speed and agility. His hands wrapped around the G-Man's throat and he pressed the watcher to the ground. Then he paused. The G-Man's eyes were closed. Thin trails of water leaked out of his eyes as he lay there, not even trying to fight back or flee. He looked harmless. Boyd settled for pinning the man by the shoulders.
"Who are you?" he demanded of the creature that had broken into his house.
"I am no one," the G-Man replied softly, sadly. "No one and nothing. I do not exist."
Boyd's rough, calloused hand turned the blue-skinned man's face towards him, to better examine it. Carelessly, he knocked the hat off in a single motion. A dark ocean of black, silky hair cascaded onto the G-Man's terrified face. He looked so beautiful in the moonlight, his eyes the only color in an endless world of blue. Boyd thumbed away a tear as his watcher waited anxiously for something to happen.
Their lips connected, hesitantly, shakily. Boyd felt a shock go down his spine and the G-Man let out a gasp of ecstasy. They both paused, uncertain, before the G-Man timidly kissed Boyd on the cheek. Boyd ran a hand through the black hair that had been hidden to him for so long.
"We should not be doing this," the G-Man noted sadly.
Boyd nodded. "I don't want you to get into trouble. The cows could trample you, you know. They're stronger than they look."
His watcher nodded, not confused by this statement at all. Slowly the two untangled their bodies and the G-Man put his hat on once more. Boyd opened the door for him. The G-Man stopped in the doorway, turning slightly. Their eyes locked. He bit his lip. He could not do this. He could not leave his precious subject now that they had done so much together. But Boyd's eyes were understanding and compassionate. He did not hold it against the other man; what had happened or that it had to end so soon. It was simply too much to bear.
The G-Man reached over and kissed Boyd chastely on the cheek, before departing. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. Silence prevailed for both of them as they went back to their routine spots; G-Man, to his post, to continue watching, and Boyd, to his chair, to continue sleeping. Blue fingers shook as he touched his lips, amazed by his own audacity. Boyd's large, yellow fingers massaged his cheek as he smiled.
For the moment, this would simply have to be enough.