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Zexion rested his chin against firmly entwined gloved fingers and kept his eyes on Lexaeus. He had memories of watching, and he remembered making certain not to be spotted. Now, he neither knew nor cared if the older, much bigger man spotted him. Zexion assumed that Lexaeus never knew and even if he did, he probably didn't care. More than fine for the younger man because he knew that he'd keep staring and thinking of finding a way to just lean forward and act.

When the two of them played with complex jigsaw puzzles, Zexion often found himself looking downward, avoiding Lexaeus' gaze, only looking upward when the puzzle is complete. He'd picture himself moving forward, sealing his lips on the other man's, but he never did act on it. Instead, he'd look away, shrinking backward. When Lexaeus looked at him, Zexion would just square his shoulders and continue with another puzzle or simply discuss whatever came to mind as if he imagined nothing.

Zexion knew that all too well that the mind often played tricks on people. He remembered tales of people imagining themselves hurting someone or themselves while never acting on it. Just something that came to mind, they'd tell him. None of them understood why such things materialized because they had no intention of doing anything they pictured themselves doing. Zexion surmised that it came from having some sort of behavior compass, a constant reminder of what really wanted to be done and what was nothing more than the result of an idle mind tossing out miscellaneous data. The key was whether or not the afflicted person wanted to act on those thoughts.

Which was part of the problem, Zexion believed as a sigh escaped from his lips. Keys had many different kinds of locks, many shapes, and many uses for different items. They can be copied, broken, bent, or misused. All it took was one key to open the wrong box and bring out disaster.

He let his hands fall to his stomach and closed his eyes. He remembered others confiding in him about the overflow of excitement, joy, feelings of accomplishment, and how each one made them think of doing something they'd never actually do were they not so overwhelmed. An easily solvable puzzle. Just think rationally and without emotion, then through there, determine what you would do.

"What's wrong?"

Zexion jerked his head up, and bit his lip at Lexaeus, who towered over him like a mountain. "What makes you think something is wrong?"

"You seem troubled, that's all," Lexaeus replied. "It's not like you, not even when you look at me."

Zexion sighed before standing up. "I'm at a loss." He slowly approached his longtime friend, looking up into his eyes. "I think of kissing you, and I don't know if it's because my mind is playing tricks on me or if it's something I really want to do. "

Lexaeus raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"I don't know if it's fantasy," Zexion continued. "I don't think it's wrong, but I do nothing because even though you are my friend, I don't know if it's right."

"You have never been the sort to allow emotions to dictate your actions," Lexaeus said. "Now? It's much easier to control what feeling you have left. The difference between mere fantasy and acting on it is if it's something you'd truly want to do without any imagining involved. You should know this."

Zexion nodded. "I do know this, but it's you . . . I've dreamed of you. All that's hindered me is uncertainty, thoughts without thinking what they mean. Were they mere illusions or were they actual desires impeded by my very own desire to create a bigger puzzle than necessary?"

"Does it really matter?"

Zexion shook his head. "No, but it's never stopped me from creating thoughtforms."

"Act or don't act. Sometimes, there is no other way."

"True." Zexion threw his arms around Lexaeus's shoulders. "I'm tired of only thinking." Then, he simply did what he thought of doing for far too long. Lexaeus swept him off his feet while he answered with a forceful kiss of his own. Zexion didn't know or care how much time passed between lips, tongues and intertwined breaths, but when he finally pulled away, his boots echoed against the stone floor. He didn't look away from Lexaeus. "Tell me, did you always want this?"

Lexaeus grunted. "Yes, but unlike you, I can wait forever, and I don't have to dream."