I wrote some BOB today.
It has no name, nor is it very good, but I did write some.
“Miles …?”
Julian watched as his dear friend - a man whose happiness he’d quietly envied for years - winced and turned away. Miles had never broken down before now, always being physically true to the bonds of his marriage even when emotionally he strayed. Then, suddenly, all at once, their world had changed: Julian had needed him and he’d given himself.
But at a price, it seemed. A price Julian was sure he wasn’t willing to pay; the joining of the physical seemed to have cost them their friendship. He’d wanted Miles for so long - enjoyed flirting with him, teasing him, seeing the way he reacted to the unfamiliar attraction that coloured their interaction, wanting to know how far it would go, could go, before Miles refused to go any further with him … and now he knew that he’d pushed too far, too much, and that he’d broken them with his need.
Miles was mechanically clambering back into his uniform. Julian watched him, waiting for an answer. Any answer.
All of the secrets, wrested from his grasp, thrown out into the open … he’d been so afraid that it would destroy his career, and even more than his career, the caring relationships that he’d managed to develop in spite of secrecy and social awkwardness and his own failings, his brash youth, impatience, even tactlessness … he’d been terrified that it was the end of everything. That knowing he wasn’t human, people would cease to treat him as human and he would lose them.
Miles had shown him that he hadn’t lost them. But would he ever forgive himself for it?
“Miles?” Julian said again, prodding, trying to get him to say something.
“I’ve got to go,” Miles said shortly.
Julian swallowed, nodded, tried to keep himself from showing what he was feeling - the hurt, as deep as it ran, was all his fault. He’d asked for more than Miles could give, and Miles had given it; there was no way that Julian could make that up to him, no way for him to give everything in return.
“I’ll see you later?” Julian asked, hopefully. His voice sounded strange in his own ears.
Miles shrugged. “Sure,” he said.
Then he was gone.
Julian stared after him for a very long time. He knew what he had to do to pay Miles back. He knew it was going to hurt, although he had to admit it had been a long time in coming. For now, though, there was work to do … and a conversation to be had, one that he didn’t want to have to have.
***
It was amazing how scarce Miles O’Brien could be when he wanted to avoid someone. Julian felt like he’d looked everywhere, as soon as he got off his shift. Finally he went to Dax, who told him - after some good-natured teasing about having misplaced his best friend - that she’d last seen Miles thumping agitatedly through Quark’s in kayaking gear.
He’d come out eventually, Julian reasoned, so he sat down at a table, determinedly facing the stairs, nursing a synthale.
Sure enough, after about an hour Miles - looking damp and exhausted but otherwise none the worse for wear - left the holosuite. When he saw Julian sitting at the table, his expression shifted - a little more closed and grim.
“Miles,” Julian said, moistening his lips.
“Julian,” Miles replied, guardedly. He started to walk on by, determined not to associate with him more than was absolutely necessary.
Julian got out of his seat, blocking his path. “Garak and I aren’t seeing each other anymore,” he announced, with no preamble.
Miles stared at him. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Finally his shoulders slumped. “I don’t think we should have this conversation here,” he said.
Julian was out of his seat in an instant. “We’ll go to my quarters,” he said.
Miles hesitated, clearly not sanguine with that idea.
“O-or, the Infirmary,” Julian said. “No one will bother us there.”
Miles nodded. “Okay.”
Relief washed over Julian. It was going to be all right. As long as Miles was speaking to him, as long as the conversation was going to happen … everything could go back to normal. He might never have Miles that way again; it might remain just an anomaly in the pattern of their lives, a moment that Julian could always retain through the memory of touch and taste and feeling. But they would endure, their friendship would last … and if everything went back to the way it was before, after awhile, Julian could try again. Slower, more gradual, so that if it happened again it would only happen when Miles was ready for it …
Julian would never push himself on his friend that way again, never again make Miles choose between abandoning him when he clearly needed him and abandoning Keiko …
He’d miss Elim. They could still talk, of course. Still flirt, he was sure; Julian was sometimes certain that Garak enjoyed the conversational games better than the physical ones, and there was no harm in words. But he’d needed to do it, to break it off; he had to show Miles that he was ready to give up something - someone - important to him for the sake of their friendship. Miles had never approved of his relationship with Garak anyway. It was the best gesture that he could think of. And it seemed to have worked; Miles was talking to him again, meeting him in private, ready to hear him out.
Julian wouldn’t push it. He’d just plead for a return to the way things used to be, not for anything more. He knew Miles would want it that way, too; they worked so well together, as best friends, they were good for each other.
And the future was full of possibilities, as long as their friendship lasted.