It wasn't hard to miss him, even though he was never really gone. But it ached, like a deep gash carved into the surface of Tim's soul every time he thought about him. No one in his life had ever inspired him the way Jesse did, no one in his life ever made him feel as alive. And now, before even three whole years had passed, it seemed to be over. Their album would come out in a week. The band had broken up a week ago.

More than anything, Tim wished he wasn't walking aimlessly right now. He wished he was headed to Matt's house to practice and kick back with the guys, to listen to Jesse talk about revolution and passion, or to Gilman to play a show. Or even no destination would have been fine with him, if only he had the company of the one person who meant more to him than he imagined one ever could.

But this wasn't the case, and Tim continued morosely along the sidewalk. There were a few flowers poking through the cracks here and there, not enough to make much of a mark but enough to be appreciated if one looked close. He nearly laughed out loud at how much those sidewalks resembled this dirty town, full of hookers and drug dealers and people with their rotted hearts. Only along the cracks could you sometimes find someone that was worth it, right where you'd least expect them.

He turned a corner, unsurprised to find himself in front of a familiar bar. There was no sign on the front, only a flashing "Budweiser" sign in the window alluded to the nature of what happened inside the small, decaying building. Ahh, yes. The cracks in the sidewalk. He shuffled inside, keeping his head down and hands shoved deep into his pockets until he reached the bar. No one here cared that he was only 19, something he was etenally grateful for as he ordered a scotch from the bartender.

Three hours and seven scotches later, Tim ran out of money and interest. His alcohol-clouded mind convinced him that the time was ripe to prowl, to walk down to the edge of the beach and watch the sun rise over the water. Paying his tab, he stood and made his way out the door, not swaying too much. For a kid who wasn't even of legal age to consume, Tim had quite a tolerance.

The trek down to the beach was fairly uneventful, if you were used to that sort of thing. People argued with each other, babies bawled from inside dimly-lit apartments, whores propositioned themselves to him at just about every corner. Even in his drunken state he had the presence of mind to once again assume the don't-ask-don't-tell disposition, his eyes on his boots and his hands balled into fists inside his pockets.

Salt was tangible in the air as the thin guitarist neared the ocean, the delapitated buildings making way to small shops and finally breaking off onto the boardwalk. He traced an all-too-familiar path across the wooden planks and through the memories in his mind. Wasn't it this rail he'd been leaning against, smoking a cigarette and watching girls in scarcely-there clothing trapse by, when Jesse had first shared the lyrics for Hoboken with him? It seemed so long ago, but the words still rung clearly in his mind and he sang them under his breath, boots against the wood serving as a drum beat.

"Always something makes me think, things don't have to be so wrong, you put up walls with nothing spoken, in your weakness you're so strong," the words came out slower than they'd recorded them, sounding more morose and less angry than when Jesse sang them. But Tim wasn't Jesse, he never would be, and now he couldn't even convince himself that they were on the same plane of existance.

Finally reaching the beach, Tim dropped onto the sand a safe distance away from the tide. If he stayed here for a few more hours, he would be able to watch the dawn. A new day, a new beginning, when all he wanted now was to go back in time. It appeared he wouldn't have to worry about watching the sun come up, or any of the challenges that came with it, as a bolt of lightning shot through the air. Like a gunshot signalling the start of a race, thick wet raindrops started to hit the sand around him.

While any rational, sane, happy person would have scampered to the nearest overhang for protection from the storm, Tim fell back against the white beach and spread his arms out, closing his eyes to let the water roll over his face. He hadn't shed a tear, not one since the band was broken up and since Jesse left him, and now the sky was doing it for him.

He'd thought they shared so much. All those late-night discussions of hope and dreams, philosophies of modern life and the ruin of the world. The promises made, now seemed all for naught. Any connection they had was shattered in an instant, leaving Tim to wonder if he'd imagined it all to begin with.

Jesse leaned over the railing on the boardwalk, bouncing back and forth on his toes. His dark eyes were focused on the figure laying on the sand, stretched out like a mockery of the crucified image of Christ. He knew he should go down there and say something to him. On stage, on a record, he could say anything and everything he wanted. Now, faced with a boy he'd considered to be more than his best friend for years, he couldn't say a word out of fear.

Sighing inwardly, Jesse lifted a foot onto the railing and lept over it. The impact of his feet onto the beach was muffled by the sound of the rain reaching the ocean, and his approach was silent as a theif in a sleeping town. He stopped a few feet from Tim, looking down at him for a long moment before dropping onto the sand.

Tim's blue eyes opened swiftly and he sat up, unsure of who was there but sure that they couldn't want anything good. His expression of surprise was priceless as he met Jesse's eyes, but it quickly was veiled, a mask of no emotion slipping into place in it's stead. Neither spoke for a long moment, Tim wondering if he should just leave now despite the fact that this was the one person he wanted to be close to, Jesse wondering if he should have come at all.

"Hey Lint," Jesse finally spoke, quietly and cautiously.

Tim nodded tersely. "Jesse," he replied, his tone hiding none of the confusion he felt.

"Kinda late to be going for a swim," Jesse joked half-heartedly, trying to lighten the mood if it was at all possible.

"I wasn't swimming," Tim informed him shortly, not appreciating the attempt at all and slurring just a touch.

"You were drinking," Jesse guessed. Tim shrugged and looked away.

"Yeah, so?," he said, as if he really didn't care, then added. "Not like I have anything better to do. Thanks to you."

Jesse almost winced, looking down at his hands, ignoring the rain that ran out of his hair and dripped from the tip of his nose. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, Lint. You know it wouldn't have worked much longer..."

Tim kept his jaw set and said nothing, looking out at the waves that continued to crash against the sand. Jesse sighed, then stood up and started to walk away.

"I knew it was a fucking lost cause," he muttered under his breath as he headed towards the boardwalk.

Tim turned his head back to see Jesse's departure. He bit his tongue inside his mouth and tried to block out the message his brain kept sending to him, but it was so loud that it overpowered the sound of everything else. Go after him. He sprang up suddenly and ran to catch up with Jesse. Upon reaching him, he grabbed the other boy's arm.

Jesse spun to face Tim, not sure what to expect. He figured Tim would be angry and yell at him, maybe even try to fight him. It wasn't uncommon for Tim to get violent when he had been drinking. What he was met with, instead, he could have never seen coming.

Tim's eyes were a shade of brutal honesty, the pain, confusion, and rejection he'd been dealing with for the past couple of weeks shining through brighter than any of the lights that lined the boardwalk. He hesitated only a second before speaking.

"You were going to leave without saying goodbye again," his voice was barely audible, and weak. Jesse felt like his heart had been ripped in half, he couldn't stand the sound of it. Impulsively, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Tim. Tim did the same, clinging to Jesse tightly as if he were the only thing anchoring him to the earth and burying his face against his neck.

Jesse was sure, at that moment, that honesty was all at once the most painful and the most liberating thing in the world. He felt the pressure inside his chest release in the form of a half-choked sob. Hot, stinging tears started to creep over his cheeks as he pressed one against the side of Tim's head.

"And I thought you were going to let me," he whispered back into the other boy's ear. Tim shook his head feircely, still holding onto Jesse, and pulled his head back. Their eyes met, this time without any reservation. They watched each other for a few seconds, then Tim smiled.

"I missed you," he told Jesse, and Jesse nodded. He knew if he spoke now his throat would close up, choking on his own emotions. He knew that Tim could see in his eyes that he'd missed him too, that the time spent apart from him was the worst he'd experienced in a long time. Tim's smiled widened slightly at Jesse's nod.

Leaning back towards Jesse, Tim pressed his forehead against the barely taller boy's. "Show me," he whispered. Jesse finally smiled as well, but it only lasted a second before he pressed his lips against Tim's.

It would have been impossible to tell if Jesse had pushed or Tim had pulled. Every memory they'd tried to repress of being together came back with blinding speed as they fell back onto the wet sand, tongues dancing over each other inside the space of both mouths, hands roaming across backs and chests. The rain was cold as it dropped out of the sky, but the feeling they shared was warm. Tim knew the feeling all too well, it felt like coming home.

They kissed for a long time, that would never seem long enough to them. It could be likened to a man who's gone too long without water finally quenching an insatiable thirst. Despite their insistent need for the contact, they broke apart, breathing with effort. Their gazes locked again and both smiled genuinely at the other.

Tim rolled over and leaned back against Jesse's chest, Jesse's arms folding around his thin frame easily as if they were meant to fit that way with each other. Jesse pressed a kiss to the side of Tim's temple, very lightly, then buried his face in the crook of his neck. Letting his head fall back onto Jesse's shoulder, Tim's eyes closed. There would be no sunrise to see today, but that didn't matter anymore. Because now he could see something more beautiful, and he could remember what the heart looks like when it's hot.