Discovery.

Chris had not meant to find the damn journal. It had happened by accident, it wasn't on purpose. He had just gone to Piers' old apartment to see if there was anything he might have wanted to keep because the apartment would be cleared next week, and all of Piers' belongings would be gone.

No use for belongings that belonged to a dead man.

He hadn't meant to find the damn journal that he was holding and taking home with him. He should have left it, shouldn't have even considered touching it nor taking it home with him but it was too late to think of that, wasn't it? Too late to turn his truck around, now.

Chris finally parked and stared at the old, used collection of thoughts that sat in his passenger's seat. It used to be Piers in that passengers seat before and not just thoughts on paper. Thoughts that should be irrelevant to Chris. He's lost a lot of men, and yet, Chris wanted to pay special tribute to Piers. Put him up on a pedestal for everyone to see and admire. He felt a need to do that, actually.

Piers was so young and he died for Chris when he shouldn't have. Chris couldn't let it be in vain.

So, Chris picked the journal up and took it up into his apartment building. He sat it on his livingroom table and stared at it. He couldn't open it. It was Piers' thoughts, not his, and it wouldn't be right if he opened it. It wouldn't be right. Just...wouldn't.

But guess what that doesn't stop Chris from doing? Opening it.

The cover opens, and Chris swallows. He looks over Piers' quick-but-neat handwriting and then he pinpoints something familiar. His name. In that perfect, beautiful curving of Piers' hand. His name. Chris swallows again, trying to level his head. But then he begins to read and gets distracted.

I should probably write this better, but I'm not going to. This has to be started at some point or I'll regret not doing it in case something should happen on any future missions.

Dear Chris,

I wanted to write this in case I do die and I don't get the chance to tell you any of these things. You see, Chris, I've always admired you. From the moment I met you I really admired you. I'd heard about you from everywhere, all over the BSAA. There wasn't a damn place that you weren't mentioned at least once. All the men had respect for you and all of the women swooned over you. But I'm sure you're already mildly aware of that.

Of course you are.

When you told me that you thought I'd be a good tribute to your team, I swear that I thought I'd die. I really did, I swore it. I thought that I would fall down right there and die. When I became part of your team, I felt like I was already living the dream, but you see, I wanted to be closer than that.

And for some unknown reason we became closer than that.

Piers was right, Chris had taken a liking to him, but he never really stopped and thought why. He figured it was because the kid was talented. Because, well, he...had been.

I felt like I was spoiled by you. You told me countless times that I was talented, and that I should think such, but I never really got how you could view me that way. Me, small town boy with a dream of helping others. Me, who had nothing but luck. Me, who was absolute dirt when compared next to you.

I never asked you why, I just went with it. I never questioned it, never thought about it. Then that Christmas came, Chris.

The Christmas that changed just about everything. Do you still remember it?

Of course Chris remembered it, how could he forget. It was a first for him, and it never was a last, either.

Chris walked outside into the chilly air that was winter. The entire ground was coated with snow, icicles hanging from the roof. It felt nice to be in some solitude for a moment. The BSAA Christmas party was going on inside with all kinds of mayhem. Drinking, eating, drunk people eating, drunk people fighting. Chris didn't want anything to do with it.

"Captain?" Chris' head automatically turns toward the youthful voice that is Piers Nivans. Chris meets his gaze and smiles. Piers, like him, is not drinking nor eating. Piers closes the door that he came out of, the noise of the party being muffled until the door shut.

"Evening, Nivans," Chris greets, and Piers walks forward, smiling up at him.

"Evening. Tired of the party?" Piers asks and Chris chuckles.

"With all the chaos in there, how could you not be?" Chris says and tears his gaze away from Piers. He shouldn't be staring at him so much, but Piers was captivating whether Chris liked it or not. For the most part, even though he'd never admit it out loud, he liked it.

"Yeah," Piers says, and looks up at the icicles, he gives a look, "uh oh, might want to move away now."

Chris was confused, so he looks up, up, up, and sees it. The collection of leaves and berries tied together with a ribbon. Mistletoe. Oh good god, could this have turned awkward any faster?

Chris and Piers look at eachother. Okay, Chris had two options, back out and potentially wound Piers' pride or lean over and kiss him awkwardly and wound his own pride.

His own pride loses.

Chris turns his body, and touches Piers' face. Piers tenses, and Chris leans over and, rather awkwardly, pressed his lips to Piers' full ones. It's like he lit a match next to gasoline. Piers wraps his arms around Chris' neck, and presses himself to Chris' body. Chris makes a noise that he can't contain.

Piers is warm and he feels so good, it's been too long since he's touched anyone...been close to anyone... Chris pulls away gasping, but he doesn't push Piers away. Their bodies are touching. It's comforting.

Chris swallows the ache in his chest away. He distracts himself from it by continuing his reading.

I thought about that a lot more than I'd like to admit. I was completely fine with it, but I couldn't deny myself the temptation of more. I was fine with a captain-solider relationship until that happened. Then all I could think about was kissing you.

Kissing your lips, your jawline, your neck, your collarbone...it was all tempting. So tempting. For the longest span of time I was tempted.

Then we started fucking.

Then I had all of you to myself and I loved every minute of it. The ability to make you groan my name and have your fingers dig into my skin because I was going down on you gave me a sense of pride. Knowing it was me creating that and not anyone else.

Chris remembered the night that Piers' car had broken down a few blocks from his house and he had let Piers in for the night. And boy, had it taken a turn for the unexpected. That's when the sex started.

They were both naked, stripping down as Piers dragged Chris to the bedroom, his lips everywhere, stealing Chris' breath. This damn kid had done things like this before, he was too fucking good at what he was doing. He'd been with other men. Before Chris knew it, they were in his bed, kissing as if they were one another's life force.

Piers was naked underneath him, and god...he was beautiful. He was so beautiful. Chris kisses him everywhere, his beautiful body accepting every touch. Piers' gasps of pleasure when he found those spots that were just right made him so hard he could hardly stand it.

Beautiful.

After an eternity, Chris lubricates both Piers and himself, and then debates last minutely if he wants to actually go through with this. Actually have sex with his soldier. Piers kisses him then, and all of his doubts leave and Chris takes him in one thrust, sinking into Piers' body and groaning his name. Piers gives a duel moan, pulling Chris closer as he thrusts into the beautiful body below him...

Chris pulls out of the flashback, gulping down air and trying to ignore not only the stinging in his eyes, but the erection between his thighs. It's hard to breathe now and he's not sure he can finish the damn letter. He takes a deep breath and keeps reading.

But as usual, Captain, I got greedy. I wanted your attention and affection all the time. I wanted it every day, every hour, every god damn minute. I wanted to be in your presence forever, I wanted to drown myself in you and lose myself in your sheets every night. I wanted to kiss you until I stopped breathing.

You were the most beautiful man I had ever set my eyes upon, and I never wanted to stop looking.

And above all of those wants, I wanted you to love me. I wanted you to love me more than anything else. I wanted you to love me until the end of time and until my last dying breath.

I wanted you to love me.

But I knew it was childish and I shouldn't want it at all. You told me once back when I was a new recruit that you just were incapable of loving anyone. Or so you believed. You told me that you couldn't even love Jill Valentine - a woman who had loved you for years and years on end. You told me that you wished you could.

And I knew it was stupid of me to even believe for a single second you could love me. You could kiss me, you could sleep with me, you could even be with me; but you couldn't love me. And I'll probably run from that until I die.

Chris has to look away, has to wipe the tears away from his cheeks. He should stop reading, it's hurting him as much as it hurt Piers to write; yet he couldn't stop now. He couldn't. Chris swallows his tears and continues reading.

And that's why we cut off a year and a half later. No more kissing, no more seeing each other outside of work, no more sex. And I kept to it. But I wanted you.

It hurt I wanted you so badly. All I could think about was you above me, your groans in my ear, your breath on my neck. Our naked bodies moving in sync with one another and whispered nothings. I felt like hell after we stopped being together like that.

I couldn't think of you as my leader anymore without being tempted to think of you as my lover.

Then, you left, Chris. You left and ran and I went looking for you. I wondered how much of it contributed to searching that we did have a sexual relationship. I didn't care, though. The only thing on my mind was you. Where you were, what you were doing, and the fact that I would be damned before I let you be on your own.

You and I were a team, lovers or not.

And after five months of searching, I found you. And then you came back, both of us assigned a new mission. Together, as a team.

Chris was choking on a sob.

You and me. The dueo.

Chris' breathing was becoming erratic.

And this is where I end this letter, Chris. This is where it'll be left and likely gather dust.

Chris' eyes were blurring.

Thanks for everything, Captain.

The tears flow and drip all over the inked page, smearing words together.

You made it all worthwhile.

Chris runs a hand through his hair and grips it deathly tight.

I love you, and I'm sorry. And now I can't help but wonder...

Chris was losing it completely.

If at the time you read this, you loved me too.

Chris' body heaves with sobs, and he shuts the journal, throwing it across the room where it hits the wall, then the floor with a dense thud. Chris sits on his couch sobbing uncontrollably, and inbetween sobs, the only coherent thing that was repeated was his small, weak:

"I did."