Work Text:
When Jaime closes his eyes, he thinks about Italy. Back in Italy where he met Arthur for the first time. When Jaime close his eyes, he can still see him. See him like he always did.
He remembers how Arthur had walked through the tree-lined way after he had left the cab. How he had asked Jaime if his father was at home. He had given him a little nod and it was enough for him to get his suitcase out of the cab.
Maybe it already started there, in the driveway to their house in Italy. Arthur was just another of his father's summer guest. Tywin always invited some of his colleague to the summer house in Italy. Normally, Jaime did not give them a lot of interest but it was something about this one that captivated him.
Maybe It had started in those first days when Arthur had begun to settle in, when he was sitting next to Jaime at breakfast, during dinner and talked about the thesis he was writing. Maybe it started during those hours after lunch when they lingered around at the pool. Not sure what to do at those hours of the day where the sun was burning so hot that it was nearly impossible to move at all.
Maybe it was this one time when Arthur was away in the little town for a meeting with his translator, being away for some hours, and Jaime could not stand the urge to enter his room, the room that normally was his, the room that belonged to him, not to Arthur, just as he did not belong to Arthur.
On the bed, for anyone on display, was one of his shirts. It was the yellow one, the one that suited him the most, being a nice contrast to his sun-kissed skin and the dark brown hair. Before Jaime was able to think about his actions, he grabbed it and took it with him. Back at his bed, he put it to his face, inhaling the smell of Arthur. It smelled like summer, like a warm, sunny day but also like something else, like the cologne Arthur liked to wear. It was overwhelming.
Maybe it after that, when thier bikes took them to the small pond, where they swam in the cold water. His white shirt had showed off the sunkissed skin of his chest. And where they laid down in the warm grass. Close to each other, waiting for the sun to dry their clothes. Arthur kissed him for the first time that day. It was everything he had ever dreamt of and still, it was not enough.
Maybe it was the moment at the train station. The moment before Arthur would take the train to Milano. The last time they would see each other. He had hugged Jaime tight, in a way only he was able to hug. And then there it was again: 'Later', the word that still does not make sense to him. Arthur whispered it into his ear before he kissed his forehead and smiled at him one last time. He watched after Arthur, how he entered the train. His eyes followed the red vehicle long after it already disappeared behind the horizon.
Jaime will always remember Italy. He will always remember everything he and Arthur had. But some things are just never meant to be. They were never meant for each other, but he is gald that even for a single moment, it felt like they were.