It was the library dream, again.
Wesley stepped into the library and greeted Lucien, perched on his stool cataloging books, with a nod. He sat in a plushly upholstered chair and touched the stack of books resting on the side table. The Man That Time Forgot by Jules Verne. Hypatia: A Romance by William Shakespeare. Brand New Day: A Collection of Post-War Poetry by Wilfred Owen. All stories and poems he wanted to read, to be sure.
But a shaft of sunlight stabbed through the window to touch his hand, and instead of leaning back into the plush wing chair with a book, Wesley stood up and walked to a set of double doors. He opened one and stepped out onto the balcony.
Evan was there. As usual, he was painting a magnificent cityscape, crystalline towers rising out of an impossibly blue ocean. There was paint on his jeans and on the faded grey t-shirt. He looked up as Wesley stepped onto the balcony. “Knew you'd come.” he said, and smiled.
“Of course I did.” Wesley stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Evan's waist and rested his cheek against his head. “Beautiful.”
“Not done yet.”
“I wasn't talking about the painting.” Wesley buried his nose in Evan's hair and inhaled deeply. “You smell of the ocean.”
He felt Evan's smile. “Comes from showering in mostly desalinated sea water,” he said, and put one last brush stroke on a tower. The brush and palette were placed carefully on the stool, and Evan turned in Wesley's arms. “I've been waiting.”
“Sorry, I'm late.” Wesley dipped his head, just a bit, and kissed Evan thoroughly.
Because they were in the Castle of Morpheus, a queen sized bed popped into existence on the balcony.
After, they lazed in the bed, watching the sunset. “I'm glad we met tonight.” said Wesley.
Evan twisted his head to look directly into his eyes. “Why? I could tell there was something wrong...”
“Tomorrow.” Wesley felt his throat close up for a moment, then swallowed. “Tomorrow we go up against the Circle of the Black Thorn. I don't expect to survive.” Confessing that fear to Evan, the lover of his dreams, lifted the fear he had hidden away.
Evan turned on his side, resting his head on one hand, while other twined with Wesley's hand. “I wish I could be there for you.”
Wesley smiled at that. “You can't. You're a dream.” And unlike the Fred of his reality, someone who was not possessed by a God-King. Evan was safe to love, where Fred had been the source of so much pain and sorrow, mixed with a brief interlude of joy.
Evan shook his head and returned the smile. “No, you're the dream. I'm stuck in another galaxy with a bunch of soldiers and scientists and no prospects and no time to paint, because every time we defeat one enemy, another pops up. But that doesn't mean I don't want to help.”
“Well, another galaxy is a bit far from Los Angeles.” Wesley rubbed his thumb over a dab of paint on Evan's hand. “I wish you could be there too, except then you'd be in danger from the Black Thorn.”
“And I'd wish you were here, except you might get eaten by a Wraith, or killed by explosive decompression, or blown up in a lab accident!” retorted Evan. “We're here now, together.”
“Yes.” Wesley said softly. “We are.” He pulled Evan close to kiss, feeling deep inside that this would be their last time. He wanted it to last. He wanted to stay in this library, on the balcony lit by an everlasting sunset, loving Evan Lorne for an eternity.