Reddie,Byler,ElMax,Boreo&Freebat Oneshots

Boreo 2

stars and little birds

papercranium

“Boris. Boris...”

“Mmn?”

Theo looked around, propping himself up on his elbows. “You still there?”

Boris’s unruly curls appeared on the side of his bed, and Theo heard him giggle. “Still here, Potter.” His eyes smiled at Theo as he crawled up to the bed. “Good God. This is the life, yes?”

Theo grinned. There were multicolored stars haloing Boris’s head, like a million tiny bits of confetti.

It must have been over a hundred degrees outside, ungodly hot for the middle of the night, and they were so wasted on the last of the acid that it was nearly impossible to see three feet in front of them. They were sweating bullets, even with the air conditioning all the way up and barely any clothing on. Theo, however, refused to take off Boris’s black band shirt, though it was far too big for him. It smelled like cigarette smoke and chlorine and it was actually kind of comforting for some reason; Theo wasn’t sure why.

Boris was next to him on the bed now, curled up and facing him. He giggled again. “Do you see them?”

Theo’s chest bubbled with laughter, mingling with Boris’s. “They’re everywhere!”

There were indeed stars everywhere now, filling the entire room with a Milky Way of radio-static glitter. Theo’s body felt like it was made of feathers, lighter than air, floating happily away from the world...

All of a sudden, Boris wrapped his arms around Theo’s waist, his bare chest against Theo’s side.

Theo froze. The floating feeling faded away. “Boris.”

Boris’s breath fluttered against his cheek. “Hm?”

Theo struggled against Boris’s lanky arms, trying to untangle them from himself. He scooted further away. Boris followed, rolling closer and throwing his arm over Theo again. Theo pushed it off. “Boris...”

“What is it, Potter?” He looked worried, eyebrow quirked.

The words stumbled out of his mouth. “Why—why do you always go so close to me?”

Boris was quiet for a moment. He didn’t move. “Do you know those birds that are very small? Chickadoos or finches or whatever the hell they are called?”

Theo furrowed his brow. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Shut up, Potter, and let me think.” Boris did look deep in thought, staring intently at the ceiling as if he were unraveling the deepest secrets of the universe. He hesitated. “You are like these birds, I am thinking. Little and scared and always flying away.”

Theo opened his mouth indignantly. “I—“

“Shut up,” Boris interrupted. He swallowed hard, deep in contemplation. “I think you are like these birds. But—but I don’t want you to fly away, like little birds do.”

Theo glanced at him. “What, you want me to be some big fat bird like a pigeon?”

Boris tossed his head back as he laughed maniacally, spilling the tiny rainbow stars everywhere. “Hah! Yes, a fat pigeon!”

Theo giggled, socking him in the arm. “Asshole.”

Boris wiped his eyes, composing himself. “But listen, Potter. What I am saying, is that I hold you close to me so that you don’t have to,” he finished simply.

“Have to what?”

“Fly away.”

The room went quiet, neither of the boys making a sound. There was a lump in Theo’s throat for some reason. His vision was blurring. It was probably just the acid.

The stars around them whirled slower, as if in anticipation, and Theo finally spoke. “Boris.” He rolled over so they were facing each other.

“Potter.” There was glitter in Boris’s eyes, caught in his lashes, his dark curls, as he grinned. The stars were slowing down. “Everything good?”

Theo nodded. “Everything’s—“ But before he could stop himself, before he could even finish his sentence, he leaned forward impulsively. Boris seemed to have the same idea, and their lips crashed together.

The whole world exploded in slow-motion, starry fireworks. Boris’s arms were wrapped around Theo, and Theo’s hands were tangled in his hair, and Boris’s lips were so perfectly soft that Theo’s eyes smarted, filling with tears.

He was getting clumsy as the tears traced down his cheeks, so he let Boris gently take the lead. And Boris was good—no, Boris was perfect. He danced graceful kisses along Theo’s jaw until he let out a sob. “‘S wrong,” he murmured.

Theo cupped Boris’s face in his hands—his beautiful, stupid, wonderful face—and rested their foreheads together. “Nothing’s wrong,” he wept. His tears were made of stars. Boris’s freckles were stars. “Nothing’s wrong, Boris, it’s just—“

Boris brushed away a stray tear with his thumb, and Theo cried harder. He was a mess. “It’s just that...I don’t deserve you, I don’t...”

Boris hushed him, a delicate finger to his lips. “Theodore, you are my little bird.”

Theo was able to look him in the eyes. The world around them was blurry and full of glitter, but Boris’s face was in perfect, heart-wrenching focus. “And I will always be there for you, even if you fly away, yes?”

Theo was quiet.

Boris gently lifted his chin with his fingertips. “Yes?”

Theo nodded slowly, sniffling. “Boris, I...” He paused. “Thank you.”

Boris smiled affectionately down at him. Theo offered a shaky smile of his own, tucking his head against Boris’s warm, pale chest. He felt Boris press a kiss into his hair. “All is good, Potter. No worrying.”