SDMN Oneshots

Modern Love - minizerk

(Warning: pretentious and based on a Victorian poem. The actions are very, very out of character and I'm cringing at my writing style.)

Secluded, that's the only word that can be used to describe where they are right now.

The loud noises of the party can be heard through the door, left slightly ajar, with a slither of light gleaming through, painting a delicate, precise stroke of vision across the room. As for the rest, it remains in darkness.

It's like a chrysalis, surrounding them, blanketing them in the warmth of the darkness, in the warmth of each other, as they sit pressed against one another in a corner, out of the light of the doorway. Everyone knows they're in here, seeking that space in which they can be together, without the implications of ascending the stairs hanging over them.

A hand gliding over a leg, gentle kisses pressing against along jawlines and collarbones. Soft and intimate is the feeling of the rise and the fall of their chests, beside one another. They move in tandem, a perfect, accidental synchrony.

Soft and intimate, is the release of breath, juddered in laughter, tracing the outlines of shoulders, wide smiles pressed against them.

Soft and intimate, like the silence that falls upon them.

After a while, Simon turns to Josh, eyes scanning across the other man's in the darkness, the gentle gleam of the reflection of light against the glass causing them to appear deeper. They're like little windows into his soul, Josh's eyes, and Simon can't get enough of them.

Fingers interlock as he begins to speak, voice quiet, yet prominent in their bubble of silence, contrasted by the gentle hubbub from the rest of the house.

"What do you think of love?" Simon asks, his voice hesitant, slightly absent from his mind, as he stares at Josh's outline, unable to see him fully.

"What about it?"

"As in, what's your opinion on it?" Simon feels his face heat, and internally thanks Josh for not turning on the light when they came in.

He hears a well-meaning huff from beside him, before a series of words are uttered, ones that break him a little bit inside.

"I don't think a lot of it, to be honest. Around 50% of marriages end in divorce. If that's the way it is, was there love there in the first place. If it is, then it dies pretty fast. I reckon, with time, that can happen to any relationship. Love dies."

'Oh. Well then.' Simon's inner conscience speaks, but he can't get the words out. They've all found themselves trapped within his throat, screaming in agony for release, but he can't.

He's waiting for Josh to say something, to take it back.

To tell him that whatever it is they have going on right now won't die eventually. Simon's in love with him, and the knowledge that Josh expects that to die one day hurts.

It hurts where his heart lies. It clutches at his throat, squeezing it, tighter and tighter, as he feels his body begin the jolty movement of gasping for breath. It stings at his eyes, what little vision he has blurring, before perfect droplets fall and paint the sides of his face, as he presses his lips firmly together, trying to suppress his crying as much as possible.

Josh can't know.

It hurts when Josh moves towards him, having noted Simon's silence, and kisses his cheek, delicately. Like he's fragile, delicate, like Josh cares. It hurts when Josh's breathing hitches beside him in realisation, before Josh pulls his fingers from their place intertwined with Simon's, which is when Simon first feels like his heart shatters.

Arms encircle him, and that's when he breaks, sobbing into Josh's arms, listening as encouragements and support is whispered against his hair, and a hand traces shapes along his back.

He feels torn as to whether Josh is truthful in his actions, which makes it even more difficult for him, as he curls into a ball against Josh's side.

"Breathe with me, okay love? In, out, in..." Josh's voice comes, a steady, supportive monotone and eventually, Simon feels himself return, the rushing and the pain and the speed of his whirling brain easing.

"You can't call me love, after telling me all about how it dies." Simon winces at the direct approach of his words, the lack of subtlety. He can hear the vulnerability in every word he says.

Josh kisses the top of his head, stroking a hand down his back, while Simon clasps the fingers of the other hand between his own.

"I know, I know. I'm an idiot, and I'll regret what I said in years to come. It'll be 3am, and I'll be staring at the ceiling, wide-eyed, asking myself why I said that. Whether you'll be there or not, that's another story."

Simon sighs.

"I can't change who I am, Simon. I don't have high hopes on love, my parents divorced, there's always so many break ups. I haven't been shown a lasting love, and I kind of find it weird when people stay together for the rest of their lives. Maybe, just maybe, you can prove me wrong."

With that, Simon sits up, and grabs either side of Josh's face, and pulls it towards him haphazardly in the darkness, and kisses him.

Josh's face lands half-connected to Simon's mouth, and they move naturally to correct their movements, laughing against each other's mouths. The moment is symbolic of them, laughter, with the hint of sadness, the salt from the tears on Simon's face. It's bittersweet.

They part, remaining wrapped in one another's embrace, at one with the silence.

Author's Notes
I'm sorry about this lmao, I was doing practice for my practical criticism paper with the poem this is based on (Modern Love: XVI by George Meredith) and another called The Letter, and this one won't leave my head.

I've actually been really nice with it, in the actual poem, 'Josh' ends up regretting the fact he doesn't apologise for years to come. He kisses 'Simon''s cheek, and then everything falls apart, and he looks back and regrets it years into the future. For once, I didn't go down Pain Central route - are you proud of me?

As per usual, this is unedited. Let me know what you think, please!

Love as always

💙😊💙