A/N: Usual disclaimer. That's all I feel like saying right now.

"Baby, I'm dying"

Greg stood on the roof of the hotel, leaning against the rail and smoking a cigarette. He tilted his head back and blew a long line of smoke into the sky.

He barely bothered turning his head as he heard someone approach behind him, instead taking another drag on the cigarette. "I didn't know you smoked," said Ryan quietly, standing behind him.

"I don't," replied Greg, not smiling.

Ryan took the cigarette from him and inhaled deeply, blowing out the smoke. "Neither do I." He dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his shoe. Leaning against the rail like Greg, he asked, "Was there a reason for this sudden smoking habit?"

Greg didn't reply, instead staring out at Lake Michigan. He finally sighed and said, "Do you know what tonight is?"

Ryan swallowed hard and nodded slowly before whispering, "It's our last night here."

Greg nodded as well. "I wish I knew how to quit you," he said suddenly, quietly and contemplatively.

Ryan snorted. "C'mon, don't go pulling that 'Brokeback' shit on me."

Greg looked over at him. "No, I'm serious." He looked away, focusing on something in the distance. "I wish I could just walk away, you know? Just say 'Hey, it's been real' and then leave this behind at the conference. But I can't."

He looked back over at Ryan, meeting his eyes with an intensity that burned. "Tell me it was nothing, and I'll go tomorrow and never look back. Tell me it was fun and that I was a great fuck, but that that was all. Tell me, and I'll go back to Vegas and you'll go back to Miami and we'll leave this right here, tonight." He paused, then yelled, "Goddamnit, tell me!"

"I can't," whispered Ryan, not meeting his eyes. "You know I can't."

Greg nodded slowly and swallowed hard, unconscious of the tears rolling down his cheeks. "Yeah, I know," he whispered. "I know." He closed his eyes and said heartbreakingly, "I never meant to fall in love with you."

Ryan reached out and touched Greg's arm, whispering, "Greg…"

This was all it took for Greg to start full out sobbing. Ryan pulled him into a hug and held him while he wept. Greg clutched Ryan for dear life, gripping his shirt in his hands and crying on his shoulder. "I don't want to leave you," sobbed Greg. "I don't want to leave you."

"I know," whispered Ryan through his own tears that dripped down his face and onto Greg's head. "God, I know." He stroked Greg's hair as he cried softly, running his hands through the blond's hair as if trying to memorize its texture.

Greg lifted his head and kissed Ryan deeply and fiercely, the tears still on his face mingling with Ryan's. They blindly stumbled back toward the rooftop door. How they made it down the stairs neither of them knew, but they soon found themselves back in their room.

They staggered through the door, Ryan closing it behind him with his foot. Greg pushed Ryan against the door and practically ripped his shirt off before taking his own off as well. Ryan ran his hands over Greg's scars and Greg shivered, his pale skin breaking out in goose bumps. His eyes burned, dark with desire, and he pulled Ryan into the bedroom. They lost their clothes somewhere along the way, and Greg pushed Ryan onto the bed. They both gave in to the frenzy of passion in a desperate attempt to forget what was going to happen the next day.

The next morning, Ryan and Greg stood on the curb, waiting fir a cab. Ryan's fleet of luggage sat behind them, next to Greg's single duffel bag. On top of each was the teddy bears that they had made for each other.

Neither man said much as they waited. Greg fiddled nervously with his hands before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and Ryan promptly reached out and took it from his mouth, smashing it under his foot.

"What the fuck was that for?" asked Greg, not really angry, but still giving him a look.

"I don't want our last kiss to smell and taste like cigarettes," said Ryan simply.

Greg swallowed hard and reached out to grab Ryan's hand. "Ryan, I…" he began, but at that moment, the taxi pulled up.

"What?" asked Ryan, eyes searching Greg's.

"It's nothing," said Greg, breaking their gaze to give the cabby his bag. "It's nothing."

"Don't shut me out, Greg, not now, not like I did," whispered Ryan, stepping forward and taking his hand again. "Not when we've only got an hour or so left."

Tensing for a short moment, Greg then relaxed and squeezed Ryan's hand reassuringly. "I'll tell you later," he said quietly.

Once their excessive amount of luggage had been loaded, Greg and Ryan clambered into the back seat, still holding hands. They spent most of the ride in a silence only broken by Greg's sigh and whispered "Bye-bye, Chi-town," as they drove under the post office.

They arrived at the airport at exactly 11:00. Ryan glanced at his watch and then at Greg. "When does your flight leave?" he asked quietly.

Greg frowned slightly, trying to remember. "Um…noon, I think…or noon-thirty."

Ryan grinned slightly. "Did you just say 'noon-thirty'?" he asked, lifting an inquisitive eyebrow at Greg.

Grinning as well, Greg said mock-defensively, "So what if I did? Maybe that's just the way we Las Vegas-ans talk."

"Yeah, or maybe it's just the way you talk," suggested Ryan.

Greg stuck his tongue out at him and countered, "Oh yeah? Well, at least I don't slip into a southern accent occasionally, like in bed."

Blushing crimson, Ryan laughed, "Greg, I'm from the south! Besides, let's not even begin to talk about your Californian accent…"

They kept their banter up as they waited for check-in (they were both flying the same airline). Each did his best to keep the levity up, trying to ignore the impending good-bye that got closer each time the line inched forward.

By the time they reached the counter, it was 11:15. Greg smiled at the lady behind the counter and handed her his information. Ryan got his boarding pass from the man next to the lady helping Greg. They both finished at almost the same time (Greg had to wait for Ryan to check all five thousand of his bags) and then they proceeded to security together.

Security took forever, mainly because the security guards had to search Ryan's bag three times, due to a "suspicious item" that turned out to be a pair of Fiskars' safety scissors.

Greg was almost crying, he was laughing so hard, and the only question he managed to ask was, "Why the hell did you have a pair of safety scissors in your bag?"

Ryan just shrugged and they made their way to Greg's gate. Luckily, Ryan's was a only a few down, and his flight left thirty minutes after Greg's, so they both just waited at Greg's gate.

They sat in silence for a few minutes on the hard plastic chairs until Ryan asked, "What was it you were trying to tell me before?"

Greg took a deep breath and swallowed before taking Ryan's hand. "Ryan, I—" he started.

He was interrupted, however, by the loudspeaker announcing, "Now boarding First Class for flight 519 to Las Vegas. Now boarding First Class."

Greg took a deep breath again and said in a rush, "Ryan, I love you." He paused, then said more slowly, "You are the only person I will ever love like this." He paused again, trying to compose himself. Finally, he said, "I will never stop loving you until the end of time."

He was interrupted again by the loudspeaker's squawk of, "Now general boarding for flight 519. General boarding for all passengers."

Greg started again, this time faster and more intense. "I will never, ever forget you. I love you with my whole heart, and my whole soul, and that will never change."

He paused, then whispered, "Who can say if I've been changed for the better?"

Ryan half-smiled, recognizing the song from Wicked that had made them both cry, and whispered back, "I do believe I have been changed for the better."

They both whispered, "But, because I knew you, I have been changed for good."

Greg smiled briefly at Ryan before puling him to him and kissing him once more. Ryan kissed him back, hard, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Greg reluctantly pulled away when the loudspeaker announced, "Last call for boarding for flight 519 to Las Vegas."

"I guess this is it," he whispered, letting go of Ryan's hand. "I love you, and I swear I will never forget you."

"I will never forget you, either," said Ryan, trying to stop his tears. "I love you." He paused, then choked, "Good-bye."

Greg walked backwards toward the terminal. "Good-bye," he said, eyes filled with tears. "Godspeed."

He turned around and walked up to the lady, handing her his boarding pass.

"If he looks back, he loves me," whispered Ryan, watching Greg closely.

Greg hesitated for a second and turned back, raising his hand to wave briefly at Ryan. "He loves me!" exclaimed Ryan under his breath.

Then Greg turned and was gone, disappearing down the terminal to his plane, the plane that would take him from Ryan, and Ryan didn't even bother trying to stop the tears that flooded unchecked down his face.

"I love you," he repeated, turning away. "I love you."

A/N: So, the song is For Good from Wicked. And yes, I fully realize how corny/lame that is for them to say that to each other, but my ex and I, upon our departure, said the words of one of our favorite songs to each other, and at the time, it was terribly romantic. So yeah.