Numb. So completely, utterly, listlessly numb. Every word that fell from Jason’s lips was a blow that Cory couldn’t feel, couldn’t comprehend fully. It was only when the smooth metal band that made up the ring he’d given the boy before him so long ago touched the palm of his trembling hand that he was able to make sense of what was being said, what was being done. He closed his fingers around the band, green eyes caught on blue, his last inkling of hope that this was all some cruel joke fading as realization struck like a bolt of lightning. This was it. This was the end. An end he would never have seen coming. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go, how they were supposed to end. They were supposed to end in years, years on years on wonderful years together, when they were both wrinkly old men with children who had children, when they’d gone through every trial of life that could be sent their way and they had nothing left to do but love each other, when they could spend an entire day on the front porch of their white-picket fenced house, watching the day go by from their places in creaking rocking chairs as they held hands and sipped lemonade and reminisced on their blaze of glory in high school, when they’d been naive, foolish kids in love, destined to grow old and die together. That was when things would end. Then. Not now. Not here. Not like this. He opened his mouth to speak, to form some attempt at rationality, but all that came out was a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His chest was tight, throat raw, vision blurred by pathetically relentless tears. This couldn’t be it. It couldn’t be.
The irony of the situation was almost comical: how Jason was convinced it’d be selfish of him to bear the burden of putting up with Cory as his boyfriend any longer despite the distance when, in all honesty, he was ready to fall to his knees and plead for him to stay, to find someway to stick around for a while, for forever. “Don’t do this,” he managed suddenly, the plea forcing its way in between a small sob. He huffed in frustration, reaching up to rub at his eyes with the heel of his free hand. “Don’t, please. Baby, we can do it. I don’t want- Fuck, I can’t live without you. Okay? Please, please don’t do this.” Perhaps he looked a bit paltry, slowly winding down to nothing more than a sniveling mess. But this was Jason! This was the love of his life! They were supposed to graduate together, live together, be together, grow and live in love, whether that meant marriage or simply being together. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. This wasn’t right. “I love you, Boobear. I love you so, so goddamn much, I- God, I can’t think. I just.. If you want me to be happy, don’t do this. Please. How could you think that? How could you even think I’d be happy without you here, Jason? I love you. It’s ridiculous how much I love you. This is killing me! Fuck, I just… Please. Don’t do this. I don’t care what’s ‘fair’ and what’s not. If it doesn’t give me you, I don’t want it.W-We can make it work. We can do it.” He stopped then, just to turn his head and wipe at the rivulets streaming down his cheeks, to try and compose himself at least enough to seem sane. “Just.. Please, baby. Don’t do this. Please.” Without a second thought, Cory found himself surging forward to catch Jason’s lips before he could protest, both hands moving to cup against the curve of his jawline, pale, shaking fingers grazing warm, familiar, bronzed skin in an effort to memorize every inch before it was gone.
