𝗧𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗸, 𝗺𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴

Slow dancing in a burning room (MLM)

TW: house fires, mild gore(burns), loneliness.

It was cold, not a winter cold, 'winter cold' meaning there's snow outside and you cuddle up and keep each other warm, a sort of, bad cold, and odd one too, one that you couldn't possibly keep yourselves warm. It felt like a summers day that had been engulfed by a blistering wind, normally, it wasn't windy in summer, but, there they were under half a dozen blankets, the fireplace alight and the windows shut, it was so, very odd.

"'M cold." The shivering boy stated, as if his quivering body wasn't obvious to the older boy who wrapped his arms around him, in a protective-like manner.

"Do we 'ave any more blankets?" The older boy asked, doubting the answer would be 'yes'.

The younger boy shrugged, "I don't know, there might be one in the guest room. I'll go 'ave a look." He quietly responded, slowly placing his sock-covered feet onto the cool, polished dark oak floor, shivering a little as he did so.

"No, you sit down, I can get it, my love." The other reassured, "you're too cold, stay warm alright?" He added in a soft voice.

The younger nodded, smiling in appreciation, and sat back down, wrapping the thick, fluffy blankets around himself, trapping in the familiar warmth that still lingered from his lover's body.

After a quick search through the guest room, the elder had found a dark garnet coloured blanket, he rushed back into the front room, the warm atmosphere hitting him like a shockwave from an explosion.

"I found one, love." He whispered, just loud enough for his beloved to hear, to which he found no reply. "Sweetheart? Are you alright?" He asked, in a low tone, roaming over to the other, to find him snoring, asleep.

He sighed, contently, watching over him, the unconscious boy was peaceful, like an angel, one might say, but in the older boys opinion, he was more beautiful than an angel, than most things, actually, though he never believed one could be more beautiful than Aphrodite, his love came very close as a second.

"Mmm" the sleeping beauty murmured, soundlessly, to which the other chuckled calmly. He sat down and shifted the other so he was leaning on his chest.

"Where 'm I?" The younger slurred, waking up slowly, stretching his arms then glancing around.

"You're at Home, with me. It's just us, and we're safe." The elder smiled, understanding his love could've had a dream, whether it'd been a good one, or a bad one, in the little sleep that he had, confusing him as he rose from his sleeping state.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he started, "could we listen to some music, my love?" He whispered only the first bit, shyly, then spoke up when he asked for the music.

"Oh, darling, don't be sorry, and, of course, what would you like to listen to?" The elder asked, pecking the other on the forehead, then, taking his skinny, but small, hand, pressing his lips the knuckle of his middle finger, gently. The younger boy blushed tremendously, smiling at his lover, his canines making an appearance, which very rarely occurred, as he was quite insecure about his smile.

"I don't know, how about Dylan?" The younger asked, proving his adoration for Bob Dylan's music.

"If that's what my darling boy wants, then its what goes." The other boy agreed, smiling admiringly, showing the everlasting adoration he had for his love.

He lifted the fragile boy from his body, sitting him up, then he steadied his feet on the ground, strolling to the record player, picking one of the many Bob Dylan albums they had collected in their years together, slid the record out of the sleeve and, with care, placed it on the turntable, lifting the arm, then placing the needle onto the sound grooves.

'Blowin' in the wind' started playing, and he walked back over to the sleepy boy and reached his arm out to him, "care to take this dance with me?" In a fake 'posh' sounding accent, making them both chuckle. The younger boy smiled, accepted his offer with a 'why not?' And stood up, putting his arms around the older boys neck, the other putting his arm around the younger boys waist, his hands held at the small of his back.

There was a momentary silence between the two boys, they were at peace, as they swayed side to side, the younger's head on the other's chest, there seemed to be a change in the world at that moment, the wind had calmed to a slow breeze and the room wasn't so cold anymore, it seemed as if the world was a radiator, making everything warm for this moment, their moment.

They were at peace until an unfamiliar scent clouded their minds, it reminded them of a fireplace, but the unfamiliar thing about the aroma was the fact that it came from their front door, now, last time they checked, there wasn't a fireplace there.

"What's that smell?" The younger asked, his voice small and timid. He looked up at his love and he shrugged, they shared an unknowing concern.

That 'unknowing concern' was shortly interrupted by a flame, which caught their eyes through the window, then the gut-wrenching sound of wood collapsing. Smoked poured into the room, they coughed and spluttered as a thick smoke flooded their lungs, cancelling out any healthy air that was there previously.

The elder looked at his lover and gave him a sympathetic look, "do you trust me, my love?" He asked with a melancholy tone.

"Yes, with my whole life." The other replied, surely.

"Then I want you to close your eyes, put your head on my chest and listen to my heartbeat and the music." He pleaded, the younger did as he asked, giving his full trust, "it's going to hurt, my darling, but I promise it'll be over soon, and we'll still be together, just, not here, maybe it'll be somewhere nicer, and safer. Somewhere we can listen to music forever, and dance forever, no problems to deal with. Just us and music, how does that sound?" He added, placing a gentle kiss to the others head, playing with his hair to calm him.

"That sounds lovely, I'd like that." The younger agreed, nodding, his head still on the other's chest, still doing as he wished.

The room was slowly engulfed by flames. There was no escape, by the time they had realised there was a fire, which wasn't too long ago, the room was closed off by flaming wood, which had collapsed previously due to the flames eating away at the old wooden cabin they owned.

The dimly lit candles, which were spread across the room, were now puddles of wax and broken glass. The fireplace now contributing to the orange-yellow flames that crept closer and closer until it was at their feet, burning their clothes away, gnawing at their bare skin, blistering them.

"It hurts." The younger cried into the others chest, to which he rubbed his back and replied with, "I know, but life isn't always painless. Sometime you have to go through pain to live your best life." His words flowing out fluently, like a river in a cool spring morning, which was quite a contrast from the current scene.

"Goodnight, darling, I'll see you in the morning, alright?" We're the last words he spoke.

"Goodnight, I love you." Was the younger boy's reply, but, his love never heard those words, and for the last seconds he lived, he felt somewhat unaccompanied. Lonely. For the first time since he met the love of his life. A single tear washed down his face, hoping it could put out the fire that consumed them, but he knew what their fate had been, since the wood collapsed, since the burning smell, in fact. He knew their time had come.

The words 'May your heart always be joyful, May your song always be sung,
And may you stay, forever young, forever young, forever young, may you stay, forever young.' Rung in his ears, the last lyrics of the Bob Dylan song 'Forever young' to be exact, and that's what they were. Forever young.