5 Seconds of Summer BoyXBoy one-shots

Swan Song // Cake

~ This is something I wrote for school when we were told to write a short story and I have made some changes since then so it might not be very good. I did want to post something though and this came to mind. I also have a christmas one that I wrote a while ago so if anyone wants me to post it even though its not christmas anymore let me know yeah? And let me know what you think of this one xx //M ~ 

[ WARNINGS: Major character's death] 

"I don't think it would have been possible for me to realise just how much I missed you without coming there, to our place."

The young man slowly makes his way down the gravel path hidden behind the old hedge. His eyes are following the trail of small, smooth rocks on the ground in front of him and his hands are in his pockets, his whole body slouching. Were anyone to see him, a starry night like this one, it is not hard to believe that they would think that the man slowly disappearing out of sight is an old one, probably adding at least forty years to his actual age. But as it turns out, no one sees him and only the trees and bushes nearby knows that something bigger that the occasional stray crossing the path is heading down it, brown eyes glossed over by tears that are yet to fall.

Had trees been able to whisper it is not unlikely that the small backyard, as abandoned as the old house hiding it from the rest of the world, had been filled with silent whispers, only audible to the man as the ruffle of leaves, as this is the first time someone visits the trees in a long time. Three years to be exact. But of course, trees cannot whisper if there is no wind to ruffle the leaves and if they do take notice on their visitor it is without even the slightest shiver. The man enters the backyard through a gap in the fence, seemingly unconcerned by the thorns tearing in his clothes and leaving scratches on his skin. He stops after taking a few steps closer to the middle of the backyard, his eyes now focused on a big oak tree on the other side of the open area. For a moment he thinks he sees someone, a tall figure standing in the dark shadow of the tree gesturing for him to come closer, and then he blinks as the figure is gone. Slowly, with his breath held and what feels like a heavy stone in the pit of his stomach, he makes his way across the moonlit backyard, walking through knee high grass as he does so. As he touches the trunk of the large tree, memories hits him like a wave, high and unforgiving, hits the rocky shores near his hometown and he closes his eyes, remembering.

"Come on then, hurry up!" The brown-eyed man, with a smile on his face, willingly follows the taller person in front of him, walking down the familiar path towards the opening in the otherwise thick hedge. The first time they came here the opening was no more than a small hole near the upper edge but that was months ago and their frequent use of said hole has turned it into a proper opening, wide enough for them to get through without having to squeeze through sideways. He watches his friend disappear through the opening, too short to be visible over the hedge, before following himself.

When he gets to the other side, the other half of the pair is already halfway across the backyard, heading towards the oak. Smiling to himself, the shorter man sets off in a sprint, quickly catching up with the taller of the two and then passing them, running up to the tree and touching the trunk as if to win a race or a game they played as kids. He turns around, first now realising he's been holding his breath, and smiles towards his best friend, still only three quarters of the way there.

They are not carrying anything this time but more often than not they bring something, be it only a few cans of beer or a mars bar to split between the two. It's nothing they ever talk about, nothing they decide ahead, but rather something that just happens. Sometimes they bring something from home, sometimes they stop on the way over, wordlessly heading to the nearest supermarket only to minutes later emerge again, carrying something either in their hands or in their pockets. But this time they brought nothing to eat or to drink and are carrying nothing but their phones in their pockets.