February Writing Challenge: Love Story

I warn everyone now that my definition of love story and the rest of the world's definition might not sync properly. This is heavy, and I apologize.






Wakefulness came slowly. Brought on by a shift in the room temperature. Utterly at peace, his eyelids fluttered open. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness; it took longer for him to realize that this wasn’t his room. Where was he? And why was it so cold?

Turning his head, he found the answer to both questions. As memories of the evening flooded his mind, his lips curled into a wide smile.

This must be what it feels like to fall in love.

It didn’t matter to Sean that he wasn’t wearing underwear or pajamas. It didn’t matter to him that he had only three inches of blanket. The stiffness in his jaw and in his back didn’t matter. Nothing did, aside from the person lying in bed beside him.

The telepath rolled onto his side, rested his head in his hand and simply took in the person beside him. Dark disheveled hair, pale skin and all. He was perfect.

Well, he snored and hogged the blanket, but none of that mattered. He was here and he was perfect, and Sean had never been happier in his life. He reached out and ran his hand lightly along the other man’s side, barely touching him. Instinctively, there was a shift, right into his hand, encouraging the touch. He smiled wider.

Sean wondered what he was dreaming about. It had taken him a long time to accept that he would never be able to see another person’s dreams, but it was only fair. He was meta, but he was still only human. He wondered if he had a cameo in this dream, whatever it was. He hoped so, given the other man’s upturned lips.

He inched closer to the other man and wrapped an arm around his waist, nimbly maneuvering to fit back under the blanket. He pressed a kiss to his shoulder and closed his eyes. We fit, he thought, before rejoining his companion in sleep.

************************

Although he knew that he should, he simply didn’t care about the tibia and the fibula bones. From across the room, he knew that Josh didn’t care about intentional torts and negligence. He was tempted to send Josh an image of them in the shower, but he had enough self-restraint not to. Barely enough.

If he had more self-restraint, they wouldn’t have had to set aside scheduled study time – complete with egg timer! – to make sure they didn’t flunk out of school. The telepath couldn’t help that he felt better spending time with the other man than being alone. Nor could he help the fact that neither mid-level medical studies or introductory law were nowhere near as interesting as talking politics or running his fingers through Josh’s hair.

An agonizingly long time later, the timer went off. He rose like a shot and tossed his book aside. Across the room, Josh was mirroring his movements – that had happened a lot recently – and with a smile, Sean took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

********************

“I’m going to talk to my parents this weekend.”

“About what?”

“About us.”

“Why?” The horror in the other man’s voice didn’t exactly instill confidence. But Sean ignored that, because he knew what was right and what was necessary.

“Because I want them to know. You’re the most important person in the world to me, and my family should know that.” His parents needed to stop treating Josh as though he was a temporary acquaintance, one who would disappear the minute Sean entered private practice and settled down with a good Catholic girl. They needed to understand why that would never happen, and that he was effectively settled already.

“That’s a terrible idea.”

Sean gave him a look. “I’m not going to hide for the rest of my life. I’m proud of us.”

“You’re the one who constantly complains about them. Do you really want to go through another round of church arguments? Or worse?”

“The worst they could do is disown me, and it won’t happen.” The telepath was sure of that, because he was the favorite. It wasn’t fair since he hadn’t done anything to earn his parents’ favor since he was a boy, nothing besides attending medical school, but he was and he knew it. Telepathy was a blessing and a curse in that regard.

“What if they gave you an ultimatum?”

“Then I’ll start a magic act to pay my way through the rest of school.” Although it was an absurd suggestion, he was serious. “Nothing will ever make me leave you. This-” Sean gestured between the two of them, “we’re real. Nothing else matters.”

***********************************

He stood on the subway platform. Late at night there were few people around, since most of the city’s huddled masses had work or school in the morning and couldn’t spend all night out. And given how dangerous the subways had become – and the fact that the city’s upswing was in its infancy as best – most people knew better than to come to a downtown subway station at this hour. Particularly alone, because it was an invitation to be mugged.

He didn’t care. He was only peripherally aware of the people – or lack thereof – around him. He’d stopped noticing people long ago, even if he hadn’t realized at the time. People didn’t matter. The darkness and cold of the subway tunnel didn’t matter. He couldn’t feel anything. Even with the fifteen pounds he’d lost recently, he still couldn’t feel anything.

All that mattered was the emptiness inside him and the feeling of the platform beneath his feet. Solid but he knew what lay beneath. The tracks called to him, urging him to meld with them in a way he had once had but could no longer do. To merge and become a perfect mix of steel and flesh and blood.

He wanted – no, needed that – needed to belong, needed to find his place, needed to snuff himself into oblivion and become more than he was now. Needed to be whole. Couldn’t stand being broken. The emptiness in him threatened to suck him in, to collapse around him like a neutron star.

Closing his eyes, he stepped forward.