🐚 | mcyt oneshots (discontinued)

and this film is just a fucking tragedy [w.c]

the math in this story hurt so just pretend fundy is like 20-30ish when we meet him
also omg flowers from 1970 is a literal masterpiece, that's what inspired this oneshot lmao

pairing; wilbur soot + dream/clay at the start, then dream/clay + fundy

prompt; from one mortal lover to another

title from; juliette, slush puppy

tws; swearing

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december 16, 1938

clay loved wilbur's laugh. it was clear and light, and wilbur often pressed a kiss to clay's lips after it. clay loved that, but it wouldn't last.

nothing good ever lasted.

now, wilbur was laughing the laugh clay fell in love with, and clay was laughing with him, but it was more sad and miserable than happy. clay's heart was heavy with news he never wanted to have to break to the brunet.

wilbur noticed. he always did.

"clay, love, what's wrong?" wilbur began, lifting his hand so he could smooth his thumb over clay's cheek. clay shifted, removing his arms from around wilbur's neck, hands folding neatly in his lap.

"i have to tell you something," clay whispered in a quiet, watery tone. his green eyes, usually soft and excited, were shining with unspilled tears and tired.

"but you have to promise to not be angry with me."

"why in the world would i be angry at you, clay?" wilbur was confused. he kept his hand on clay's cheek, hoping the movements would calm the blond.

"wilbur... i can't die."

wilbur's hand fell to his lap. "what?"

"i'm sorry i didn't tell you earlier, but please, please don't think of me any differently," clay pleaded, but wilbur only laughed.

"again, why the hell would i be mad at you? sure, we won't be able to grow old with each other, and you'll have to leave... you'll have to go." wilbur's own words dawned on him, as if he was just speaking and not thinking. "clay, you'll have to leave, won't you?" wilbur threw his arms around clay's neck and buried his face in clay's shirt. clay reached his arms around wilbur's waist to return the hug.

"i don't want too," clay mumbled into wilbur's ear. wilbur nodded slowly, pulling away to connect their lips in a slow, salty kiss.

wilbur pulled away, resting his forehead on clay's as he whispered, "you'll stay a bit longer, right?"

"i'll stay as long as i can. but, wil, i can't stand to watch you grow old. a few years more, then i'll have to go, and you'll need to move on," clay replied sadly. he was crying, but he was smiling. a sad, soft smile. wilbur nodded again.

december 16, 1941

it had been three years since wilbur had learnt of clay's secret. today was the day wilbur's one and only love had to go, for clay feared if he stayed any longer, he wouldn't be able to drag himself away from wilbur, and he would stay. clay couldn't stay.

wilbur was hugging his arms to his body, eyes red from crying this past week, standing on the path to his and clay's little house. he was smiling sadly at the blond, sniffing, dabbing at his eyes with a patterned cloth.

"i'm gonna miss you," wilbur whispered.

"i know, wil. i love you, i really do." clay was hugging him now. "but i can't watch you die. i just cant." clay took wilbur's hands in his.