Title: Looking In Looking Away
Disclaimer: CSI: Miami, Horatio, and Yelina do not belong to me. I'm just borrowing them while TPTB aren't looking.
A/N: Horatio/Yelina, Yelina's POV. Contains intentional grammatical errata. FRT for mild sexual content.
I can't say I've never thought of it. I doubt that he's never thought of it either. But there was always a distance before, a distance I hated but didn't want to take a step across. I was comfortable with that distance. It kept out anything that didn't mesh with the life I'd built.
I am a widow with a son and a life of my own. He is my brother-in-law. We work together when the need arises. The distance protected that.
And then we closed that distance too soon, too suddenly, and I'm still not sure how or why.
There are any number of things I could blame this on – the late night, a generally frustrating day at work, the half-glass of red wine I had with dinner (not even enough to make me dizzy) – but they are feeble excuses, another attempt to make sense of everything, an attempt to make this a momentary indiscretion.
There were no doubts or second-guesses at first; the white-heat of his skin against mine made it hard to think at all. But then something pulled me back, something shouted in my ear: Your son is going to see you in bed with his uncle. And what will you say to him then? How will you explain that?
I felt sick at remembering it, and yet I couldn't believe I'd been so stupid as to forget. Since then, no matter how much I want to let go, there's been a tether around my waist, and I can't slip out of it because if I do I'll fall and I'll never get back up.
He is almost silent; there's no sound but that of his breathing. And as I listen to him there is that whispering, reminding me that Ray wasn't like that, Ray used to laugh, remember? He used to smile and laugh so loud that you had to cover his mouth so he wouldn't wake your son who's going to see you…
I'm not the only one thinking it; he's barely looked at me since we began. What is he looking at instead? Is he tangled up in the same lifeline that I am?
A few minutes more and it has ended; I collapse, exhausted and spent, still on top of him. We're looking away from each other, and his hand running through my hair doesn't make me feel any closer to him.
"We shouldn't do this again," he says, quietly. And yet his pulse is still racing.
"I know," I respond.
It is only across that distance that we can look each other in the eye.