AN: Just a random little thing that I thought of one day. It's a one-shot, there's absolutely no plot in it - it's more drabbly than anything else. Reviews are loved.
WARNING: This story has homosexual content, although I'd laugh if you could actually be offended by it. It's the mildest of mild things.
Blow me a Kiss
They were just walking along the road. It was nothing special, no mission or quest to accomplish. They weren't talking, but the silence wasn't cold, or angry, or resentful, or miserable, or anything else; it was a comfortable silence, the silence not of people who can think of nothing to say, but the silence of people who don't really need to say it.
They were walking close together, but not close enough to cause comment or notice; sometimes the back of the blond's hand would brush against the brunet's bare wrist, but otherwise, they did not touch.
They looked at each other occasionally; the brunet would look up most often, past the two inch height difference, and a half-incredulous smile would touch his face and warm his brown eyes. The blond would look down, and his lips would curl as if he thought himself lucky beyond his wildest dreams. Once their eyes met, in these half furtive glances, and the brunet blushed while the blond smiled wider and winked.
Then the blond reached out, curled warm hand around warm hand, laced their fingers together in a comfortable grip. The brunet looked at the ground while he blushed slightly pinker with pleasure, and when he turned his eyes up again, they were filled with love.
The street was ordinary; the pavement was clean (enough), the shops lining the sides were respectable. The cars were not overly frequent at the early-afternoon hour, and the people walking along were neither a multitude nor a mere few.
There was another pair, not so far away from the two boys; a middle aged woman and her teenaged daughter. They were talking, they both looked happy; both carrying shopping bags, from an ordinary Saturday outing.
The two pairs would cross paths soon, for they were walking towards each other on the same side of the road. The woman noticed them before her daughter, and gave them an absent smile as she moved closer to the girl to give them room to pass. But then her eyes flickered downward to their joined hands, and her smile faltered and died.
The brunet's smile did so also, but more slowly and with more pained confusion, and it deepened to a look of hurt as the woman took her daughter's arm just above the elbow and hustled her across to the other side of the street, shooting the boys a venomous glare as she did so.
The brunet's steps faltered, and the blond tightened his hand comfortingly. "There will always be stupid people in the world," he said softly, leaning close to his lover's ear. "There will always be people with too much hate in them. Just forget about them. You can't let them ruin your life."
The boy nodded, but he couldn't help looking over his shoulder, where the woman was marching along the other side of the road, disapproval in every stiff line of her body, her hand still wrapped around her daughter's arm, half dragging her at a much faster pace than before.
He would have resumed his walk, still feeling the misery of the despised, when the girl turned her head to stare back at them, even while she was still being pulled along in her mother's wake. Her eyes were grey, and they caught and held the brown for a few brief moments.
The brunet stood still as he watched them retreating; watched as the girl smiled, and raised her free hand.
And blew them a kiss.