Climb the Ocean
By Ephemera and Byrne

London
Part Fifteen

It was a strange thought - that if things worked out, he might get to be almost as familiar with all the weird little rituals of an airport as Oliver seemed to be. He'd flown a grand total of twice in his whole life, and Oliver and his colleagues just breezed through with all the attention he paid to going through a checkout line in a supermarket or something. Made him feel like a kid, somehow. More than the hotel and the suits and the meetings, it made him realise the differences.

More so, it made him realise just how much he didn't want Oliver to have to be leaving. His brain knew that Oliver would be back, and in only a few weeks, but his heart didn't like it one little bit. Dinner had been stilted, pockmarked with sudden silences when talking about Brett's teasing and rehashing his presentation and just about every topic of conversation had somehow turned into goodbyes.

And now Oliver's cases were checked, and Oliver's colleagues had already gone through customs, and it was just the two of them eyeing the customs line, the clock, the departure board. They'd found a corner over by the bank of payphones where they were mostly out of the way, Oliver's briefcase and jacket between their feet. Tom's hand tightened around Oliver's. He was determined not to make a scene.

"Mail me when you get in, yeah? Let me know you made it home safe?"

"Of course." Oliver's voice was low and the dark head kept tipping down, Oliver looking at their hands before glancing at the clock and the departure board again. "God, Tom. I don't want to do this." Oliver didn't seem to have made the 'I shall not cause a scene' promise to himself. His eyes were sad, and the fingers tangled in Tom's were almost too tight.

He managed to extricate a thumb, stroking over their interlocked fingers. He wasn't sure if he was comforting himself or Oliver, or just trying to make sure he wouldn't forget the feel of those fingers.

"Don't want you to go." And if he thought on that to much he'd get all choked up and embarrassing. He consciously tried for different tone of voice. "Four weeks. We can do that, right?"

"Four weeks, two days." Oliver smiled at him a little and shifted closer, kicking at his briefcase. "You know you can call me anytime, yeah?"

Tom nodded. "You know that goes both ways, right? And that I'm a student and I don't need sleep?"

Oliver nodded and looked at the floor again. "Don't think I'm going to be getting much sleep, anyway," he said softly. "Don't want to sleep without you there."

God, if that didn't make his heart twist. "'s going to be weird," he agreed. "You managed fine for the last 27 years though, love, and I'm pretty sure zombification's not part of the plan."

Oliver's grin was lacking it usual high voltage of suppressed laughter, but at least it was a smile. "Just different now, you know? Now I know what you feel like, how you smell. What you look like when you're sleeping." Oliver blinked rapidly and stood a little straighter. "Right. Four weeks, two days. Can do this."

Not going to cause a scene. Not.

Oliver tugged him a little closer, almost close enough to kiss, and fiercely whispered, "I love you. Don't ever forget that."

"Love you. Yours, remember?" And somehow one of his hands was cupping Oliver's cheek, touching, because how could he not?

"Mine." Oliver nodded sharply, almost pushing Tom's hand away before moving into the touch. "And I'm yours."

Oliver's hand was suddenly at the small of Tom's back, and he was pulled close, Oliver holding onto him as a shudder raced through his body.

The loudspeakers called Oliver's flight again and it was time.

"Love you," Oliver whispered, turning his head to share a last kiss. Tom tried to pour everything into that all-to-fleeting contact, to memorize for the last time the taste, the feel of Oliver's back under his hands, everything.

He forced himself to pull back, to take that half a step, to make sure that Oliver heard 'Love you' one last time.

"I know." Oliver turned and walked to the customs line, but stopped, just shy of going through. Spinning on his heel he stalked back to Tom, his face determined and jaw clenched.

"Tom, I...I'll miss you." Then Oliver kissed him again, fast and hard. Another moment and he was gone, moving to the line quickly, the speakers stating once more how short Oliver's time to get to the gate was.

Oliver turned once more just as before going through the customs check. It was only long enough to wave, but Tom could see Oliver's eyes shining.