Mockery
One-shot
Sun's morning rays pierced through thin white curtains bringing into light a small hotel room. The peach colored walls took on sunset tone, a glass table at the foot of the bed projected small rainbows at odd angles on the floor and almost black wooden furniture looking as if made of rich dark chocolate gave the room a welcoming feel. All this paling in comparison to a tall glowing figure, standing just before the window. The glow, a simple silhouette produced by the sun's light. A man of thirty-two stood gazing out the open window, the light breeze pulling the smoke from the cigarette between his lips into the air outside. A long fingered hand was lifted to pluck the cigarette and deposit the ashes into the ash-tray resting on the windowsill.
Pale green eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light before focusing on the body of the man standing clothed in only a pair of black jeans. Gaze traveling up from the small of the strong back, toward pale skinned shoulders, taking note of the muscles that rippled at the assault from the cool wind coming in. From the bed another male body rose to greet the day. Thin in build and of a darker skin tone than the other, this man of twenty-six sat up, letting the covers fall over his naked chest around his equally bare hips. A smile graced his lips as thoughts of the night before flooded his mind. The feeling of love tugged at his heart brought on by a passion he knew would never fade. It wasn't so much the act as the knowing fact that he had shared loving pleasure with someone who cared for him.
Sounds of movement from behind the pale man caught his attention. Turning around aqua colored eyes fell on the face of his love, framed by his naturally wavy black hair. Those green eyes were no longer focused directly on him, betrayed by his thought filled gaze. Stepping closer to the bed he placing on it one black covered knee, letting his weight sink into the mattress as he leaned in close to place a quick kiss on the others lips.
"It's rude to stare." he commented in his deep English, accented voice after pulling back.
Pulled from his thoughts, eyes wandered over the exposed chest that wasn't visible before. "Just admiring the view." His voice carried a lustful tone, which the older man only rolled his eyes at.
"Please focus your mind on something other that that. Take a look out the window and admire that view why don't you?"
"I've seen that view many times. Thanks to the sun it's nothing but the same blinding scenery. If it wasn't for those buildings that I swear serve no purpose that to reflect light into my eyes I might care to take a look more often."
"People work there."
"Tell me you honestly think anyone who has a job working in offices like the ones in there is happy?"
"They were a great source of fun for me when I was a child."
"Mother had a desk job did she?"
"Why do you assume it was my mother?"
"What self-respecting man brings his son to that kind of job?"
"That sounded insulting."
"It shouldn't have." A wave of his hand was gestured in hopes of dismissing the idea from the older man's head.
Their conversation took a pause, both finding themselves lost in thought. Each as competitive as the other, they took it as a personal challenge of spoken ideals. Having been in the same kneeling position on the bed, his tired legs finally gave out as he fell forward, landing face first into the mattress. His head turned to the side as ocean colored eyes connected to faded green ones.
"Trigger-happy love of my life?"
"Yes over-analyzing man who sleeps in my bed?"
To them this was playful banter, a constant back and forth, jabs made to sound as pillow talk. It was sure to give people watching them the wrong impression but what purer form of love was there? To have someone you love know that no matter the words spoken they are said with affection and good intentions. For anyone with a true best friend this is no foreign concept To those in love it could never be. Once in love fights and hurtful words become personal at which apologizes are made for later. Those thoughts and more rattled around in the paler man's head.
"Let me analyze you."
"No!"
"Why?"
"Because you'll just write about it in one of your books."
"So? I'll pay you the five percent I pay my other clients."
"I'm not your client. I deserve more than that."
"Twenty percent then?"
"Not money. Respect. I thought you hated your clients?"
"I do. Their problems annoy me. God forbid if they try to figure it out on their own. Always fighting over money and sex."
"That's hypocritical of your job description and so then why do you do it?"
"Pays well and I can turn it into good stories later. I love to write but mysteries, dramas they all seem to lack that one thing that makes something worth reading."
"What is that?"
"Comedy." he said firmly and with all seriousness. Truly he believed laughter to be the answer to everything. It was the only true act of happiness that would make one cry, feel physical pain, yet make you feel better than any amount of sex ever could. Brought on by all sorts of things and given labels to fit. Irony, dark humor, slap-stick comedy and especially made even funnier by taboo subjects. Obviously watching someone trip was funny or people wouldn't laugh and somehow that seemed right. There would be those who wouldn't find it funny, it might even make them feel bad but it was pointless to deny what effect it had on people.
"So you think it's funny to make light of people's problems?"
"Yes and I won't apologize for it. So now let's talk about you. What do you love?...."
"Don't throw the word love around like that."
"Alright. What do you admire?"
At this the conversation stopped again while the Englishman searched his mind for the answer. Raising himself from his face-down position on the bed, movements were made to reach his lover's side. Settling down beside the younger man, strong arms went around the smaller waist before pulling the thin body closer. Once they were both comfortable, with one cuddled into the other, a pale hand rose before resting atop the others head. Gentle fingers ran through dirty blond hair, several inches shorter than his own.
"Forgive me. I forgot to tell you to hurry up." came the blond's, inpatient remark.
"Well I was admiring your beauty but you ruined it by talking."
"I have a wonderful voice, take a moment to admire that then give me your real answer."
So as told the older man didn't say a word, staring straight into the others eyes for a moment and let his mind run with that order. Previous conversation from days, weeks and even years ago came to mind in flashes. The words spoken by that tenor voice were always firm falling without pause from his lips. Unfortunately his thoughts were disturbed by the sudden poke of a finger to his side.
"I love your voice. Sing for me?"
"Hmph. Just answer my question."
"I admire the beauty of the world"
"Which is slowly being destroyed by the pollution we humans create."
"I knew it!"
"Knew what?"
"You just wanted to start a debate. Go do that with your college buddies. I don't like politics or listening to anyone complain period." That being so true about him it was a wonder he ended up loving a man whose job required him to listen to people complain for hours at a time. In fact neither of their outward personalities matched their jobs.
Troy a man with un-ending patients, unable to bring himself to anger even when faced with humiliation was drawn to the idea of justice and found himself serving that purpose proudly as a detective. While always seeming happy to listen to the genuine problems of others and offering the support they needed he wasn't willing to listen to people go on about things that truly didn't matter. Oliver on the other hand was a licensed couples counselor, hating every minute of his job but finding great joy in exploiting that pain to write satirical stories about supposed love and relationship that never worked out for one reason or another.
The silence lasted for several minutes as Troy continued to run his fingers through the short blond hair. "Come on now you know I love a good argument." came the wine from the blond's lips.
"Argue with yourself."
"Alright. Should I go back to sleep or get up and go eat? Sleep or eat? Sleep or eat?" His external argument was stopped by the movement of the body pressed against him, turning away.. He was left feeling cold as his lover sat up before pulling the corded phone from the base, dialing a few numbers and placing the receiver to his ear. His voice carried the simple order of two plates of scrambled eggs with pancakes and bacon before he hung up, turning back to him with a smile.
"Nothing like breakfast in bed."
"What about lunch and dinner? Is this one of those days?"
"............"
". . ."
"Yes."
-Days like those are special. Many people would say the same thing if they saw the events that took place after watching that scene. In the hours that fallowed both lovers cuddled, ate, bathed, talked (laughed), ate, slept, ate and made love well into the night, admiring and loving the other as best friends, high-school sweethearts and as lovers could only do. And yes all in that order!-
END
*Author's Note: Characters are mine, completely original and all that fun stuff. Wrote this for a friend and to test my writing abilities outside of my confront zone.*
I have a back story set up for Oliver and Troy but I decided to take a page from Oliver. So if anyone wants me to write and post this back story they would need to earn it a little. ^^ No less than ten reviews and no flaming. Constructive criticism is fine but leave out all spelling and grammar issues. I know those need work. 3