What's this, I actually managed to write something sweet for these two? Well, I said that I would. There's still a smidgen of angst in there, though. Sorry. It's kind of impossible to write a believable story with Bishop and Aidan that doesn't have any angst.
Bishop will always call the late 1940s the highlight of his and Aidan's life together. Aidan has long been accustomed to being a vampire by now—he no longer has bouts of being disgusted with himself for feeding. He's completely willing to kill and he isn't running away from Bishop to sort himself out at least a few times a year like he used to.
Henry and Suren are gone as well, meaning that Aidan doesn't have anyone but Bishop to be with. Those years when Aidan was in the war, far away from him, only to come back with a child of his own, were Hell. The years when Aidan spent all his time with Suren were an even worse Hell.
All they have now is each other and the streets of Boston to roam and feed from. They become two of the resident non-citizens, hanging around the city but not making lives for themselves, not even making a reputation or establishing the tiniest of relationships. There are no shopkeepers or little old ladies who know their names or even remember who they are once they're out the door.
In the eyes of the rest of the city, they are nothing. They are nameless faces. Bishop imagines at least some people must remember them, though (Aidan especially, since he attracts the gazes of so many women, to Bishop's dismay), and they really aren't so careful that they make sure no one sees them twice.
But those who see them more than that are almost always drained and dead in an alleyway soon enough.
Bishop likes this life. His ideas and dreams for the future of vampires ruling over humans is only just budding, and right now, he enjoys the little things.
The sights. Boston is a fantastic city that holds the perfect blend of the old and the new. The history there is so rich, and he can greatly appreciate it all because he experienced it. He knows Aidan likes to visit the statues and memorials as well, but sometimes they make him upset. Bishop tries to avoid things that remind Aidan of his family not only because he doesn't want him to remember his old life, but also because he honestly hates to see him upset.
And the smells. Despite his lack of need for food, he enjoys the smells of freshly baked bread as he passes the bakeries. The smell of the perfume of women who try to sweet-talk him. The cologne of some of the businessmen, too. Ashy smells from the smokestacks near factories shouldn't be pleasant, but they're somehow refreshing to him. Vampires don't need to breathe, so they don't harm him. They just stand out so sharply from the rest of Boston and make him more self-aware.
At night, Boston is an all-you-can-eat buffet. But during the day, the people are more than just food, and Bishop and Aidan are more than just sharks. When they leave whatever motel or abandoned building they're shacking up in, they have to blend in. Bishop honestly feels like he does a better job at it, but Aidan's the one who has more fun with it. He still enjoys being human.
It's amusing to watch what humans do sometimes. Get fussed up over time and being late—something vampires don't have to worry about. But other times it's fascinating and nostalgic to see what they create. Children make up games to play in the street and women plant vegetables in their gardens and put pies out to cool on the windowsill. It's been so long since Bishop or Aidan have created anything—all they do now is destroy.
They see old couples sitting together on park benches and glance to each other, sharing a sad look. Aidan looks away after a few seconds, but Bishop keeps staring, wondering what it would have been like to meet him normally and grow old with him and know they would both die at the same time.
He doesn't like thinking about that because he then starts questioning everything and getting sad. There's no reason for him to waste his time being sad when Aidan is with him.
Watching Aidan is more fun than watching humans. Talking to him and waiting for him to crack a smile is his favorite thing to do because every moment that Aidan smiles is perfect. And Bishop knows just how to do it, now that he's known him for about a hundred and fifty years. He knows everything about him. In fact, he probably knows him more than Aidan knows himself.
Or at least he keeps thinking that until some new information comes out of the blue. Which happens too often for his taste.
It's a day like every other when he finds out that Aidan can sing.
Bishop was never huge on music, so he begins to walk by the street musicians in the town square without much of a thought. But then he hears someone singing along, and for a moment he thinks it's just one of the nearby people until he sees Aidan's mouth moving in his peripheral vision.
"Day by day, I'm falling more in love with you... And day by day, my love seems to—What?"
Aidan stops both his singing and walking and then turns to him, slightly alarmed at Bishop's awed smile. Either that or he's feigning surprise.
"You—nothing, just keep going," he tells him, not even trying to hide how impressed he is.
Aidan's face breaks into a wide smile, and he looks down for a moment, clearly flustered, before looking away again and going on:
"There isn't any end to my devotion... It's deeper, dear, by far... than any ocean..."
If Bishop's heart was still capable of beating, it would be skipping a beat. He hopes to God—assuming there is one—that Aidan chose to sing along to this song on purpose.
When the song is finished, some of the surrounding people start clapping, and all the attention seems to embarrass Aidan a little. Bishop is still beaming, and there are some men eyeing the two of them warily—upon the realization of which, they leave. But Bishop doesn't stop smiling.
"I think you should sing more often," he tells him later, watching him from across the room.
Aidan turns around from his desk and looks at him, giving him an amused and slightly disbelieving smile. "You really liked it that much?"
He's silent for several seconds and then simply says, "Your singing voice is beautiful." The rest of you is beautiful as well, he wishes he could bring himself to say.
Standing up, Aidan widens his smile and approaches his maker. His smile shifts to a look of half-worry, though, as he makes his way across the room and leans up against the wall next to Bishop, and he stands there in silence for a moment.
"There is a reason I don't sing very often," Aidan says quietly, letting his hand drift lightly to Bishop's shoulder. "I'm always around you, and, well. You saw. People assume things."
"Then why did you sing today?" he wonders aloud, frowning.
"I... suppose that was just one of my favorite songs," he admits, and his lips twitch into a small smile that reaches his eyes first.
For another minute, they merely stand there and think. The silence is deafening. And then it fades into Aidan singing practically out of nowhere—not the song from before, but another one, and it's not even in English. Bishop stares at him unblinkingly and listens like it might be the last time he ever hears Aidan sing, and he doesn't even care what the lyrics mean. He just knows that that beautiful voice is singing to him.
He can't take more than a couple minutes of it just standing there, at which point his resolve weakens, and he steps forward to take Aidan's face in his hands and cuts him off by kissing him. As though expecting it, Aidan presses forward and readily kisses him back, up against the wall. He can't remember, later, how long it lasts.
Through the years, Aidan keeps up with music. Bishop doesn't. His entire taste in music is whatever Aidan sings for him.
When they're alone, sometimes he'll break the silence and say, "Sing for me." And there isn't a single time that he doesn't get a smile and something beautifully sung—until after the very last time that he has the chance to ask.
It's a year before Aidan leaves the nest and moves in with his werewolf friend, before Bishop even knows that his heart is going to break and before everything goes to shit. It's as they lie in Bishop's bed, his arm curled possessively around Aidan's stomach.
"Can you sing for me?—That song you sang the first time. I just—I really want to hear it again."
There's a shuffle of sheets and then a small smile facing him in the dim light, and then Aidan's somewhat muffled by the pillow, but still extremely calming, singing voice.
Bishop has heard it so many times now but isn't tired of it in the least bit. Inside his mind, he considers it their song. And it's always the final stanza that gets him.
"I'm yours alone, and I'm in love to stay... As we go through the years, day by day."
I actually did base this on canon, just so you know. At some point in Season 2 Aidan actually does sing, for like 2 seconds. And it was beautiful. And so I suddenly thought of Bishop wanting him to sing to him and that was such a cute idea I had to write a fic about it.
If you have any thoughts about this oneshot, PLEASE review, as always!