A Bit Not Good

[Simon Blackmoore]

Was it wrong to have feelings for one of your brothers-in-law? Simon was only half certain that it was, and a fifty percent chance of it being morally wrong was enough for him to sit on those feelings forever, if need be. Gregory had been with Keeven White for over two years now, and they were so happy together that it made Simon outwardly sick and inwardly proud. It was about time his brother had a bit of luck in his relationships. The younger Yearling supposed that he'd had just as little luck as the elder, only Greg got to the actual being-together stage before it fell apart. Simon had a fat lot of nothing by way of a dating history. Amidst his introspective melancholy, all he could do was thank God that it was the youngest White brother he'd fallen for, and not his brother's beau. The editor could only handle so much drama in his love life.

Not that there is a love life, thought Simon to himself sardonically. The youngest male Yearling was currently refilling his brandy snifter with another finger of liquor at the sideboard, trying not to look entranced by the doe-eyed gentleman across the room, currently laughing with the other three men of the house. Simon didn't live at the White manor but he was invited for dinner every other night by default. He'd used to refuse two nights out of three, but it wasn't long before he'd stopped saying no.
Greg got up to put the the record player on, causing Simon to turn his head and smile. He loved a bit of music, a bit of dancing ... Or watching everyone else dance. His brother was trying to drag Keevan into a saucy waltz and the room was laughing along with him. He loved this family. He really, truly did.​

 

[Lucan White]

"Go on, Keevan!" Lucan said, nudging his elder brother's shoulder with the hand which did not contain his drink. The owner of the house acquiesced in the building pressure and accompanied Greg to the centre of the room, where their dancing drew forth another round of fond and hearty laughter. Lucan was among those to indulge in the rare pleasure, though of late Keevan had been growing tolerant of the playful teasing of his family and friends. On some occasions, such as the one at present, he even joined in with the laughter, going as far as to readily submit himself to embarrassment in order to amuse his loved ones. It was weird, and wonderful, and bizarre, and Lucan prayed that it would not end.

Periodically the curly haired man stole glances across the panelled room - never for so long as to arouse suspicion from the subject of his gaze, but long enough to refresh his memory of Simon's smile. The youngest White had no justification for insisting Keevan and Greg invite the man over so frequently, but fortunately for him, they were polite enough not to inquire.
The music played on, the dance inspiring laughter of the sort that split sides and pulled muscles. But one man had stopped laughing. In fact, any trace of happiness in his eye had vanished as suddenly as if somebody had extinguished a light inside him. He left his drink on the sideboard and quietly exited the room, the frivolities lending him an easy escape out into the marble corridor. He walked without conscious purpose, turning at the foyer and taking himself to the back door. Finding it cracked open, he slipped out into the night.

It was cool, but not cold. Lucan looked up to the clear sky, his face bathed in starlight. Judging by the hour, Simon would shortly be leaving for home, and the house would once more fall calm and quiet. The days between his visits seemed awfully long in comparison to the evenings he was present. His heart having been made unromantic by a long and unhappy marriage, Lucan did not immediately conclude that he might be in love with Simon Blackmoore, though a suspicion of sorts had come over him of late. Really, it had been inevitable. It was difficult not to love what you lived for.

 

[Simon Blackmoore]

Unbeknownst to Lucan after his departure, another man stopped laughing because he had. Simon often forgot to think when around the youngest White brother and reacted without conscious thought, a worrisome habit he'd picked up that was most unlike himself. It worried him because he was a private and careful man, and when it came to emotion there was no room for error. He failed to think and so he followed, leaving the three remaining men to exchange fond and knowing looks.

Simon had spent enough time with Lucan for it to be instinct for him to search outdoors first, and though he took the longer route, he arrived where he needed to be. Seeing the pale figure staring into the sky lost in thought, his heart seized on the moment and ingrained it into his consciousness. He gave a quiet inhale and drew a step back through the doorframe. Did he really need more pictures of Lucan to haunt his dreams at night?

The editor was left wallowing in his own foolishness and unable to turn back inside against his conscience. Whatever mad impulse to follow the other man remained and compelled him to stay. He sighed, breaking the tranquility of the garden, and gave into it.
"Got bored of us already?" Simon called to Lucan.​

 

[Lucan White]

There was no wind; and besides, that sigh was distinctly human. Lucan snapped around. The sight of Simon, his golden curls illuminated from behind by the rectangle of light from the door, made him palpitate. "No!" he called back, horrified that Simon might have thought he could tire of him. Presumably it was a joke, but Lucan didn't want to insufficiently defend himself lest Simon kindle any doubt to his fondness.

The younger man looked away, afraid that if he dwelled too long on Simon's arrival he might attach more meaning to it than it was intended to carry. He was just looking out for him. A brother-in-law. Searching for any hidden intentions behind his kindness would only serve to disappoint him. After a moment, Lucan said, "You're missin' the party." All right, it wasn't much of a party, but it was as much of one as they were going to get, Keevan being as he was.

 

[Simon Blackmoore]

"It's no party if you're not there, Lucan," Simon responded immediately, a smile creasing his cheeks and brow. "It's winding down, anyway. Have to let the lovebirds have their moment." They all liked to tease Keevan and Greg, but quietly they were all chuffed to bits that someone in their family had found a bit of happiness. Sometimes Simon thought about it for himself, but often he thought about it for Lucan. It wasn't unusual for the chipper little fellow to go suddenly muted and drift away. Simon merely observed this phenomenon for far too long, telling himself that if he enjoyed his own privacy, he should leave others to their own. It didn't seem right when the sun died on Lucan's face, though. It might have been normal, but it wasn't natural. Smiles belonged to him.

Simon dared to step into the moonlight and linger beside the other man, tipping his chin up and looking into the sky as Lucan had done. There was silence for a moment. He could feel the warmth between their shoulders even though they weren't touching.
"Where do you go?" Simon asked. He had a feeling Lucan would know what he was asking. 'Where do you go in your head, when you disappear?'​

 

[Lucan White]

Lucan's cheeks flooded at the compliment, and he smiled. Nobody spoke to him like that. Not Keevan, not Regius, and not Esmerelda, when they had been married. A combination of warmth and uncertainty settled beneath his chest, and he turned his face back to the stars in a bid to ignore it. Life was overly complicated as was. Besides which, even if by some miracle Simon's chest was warming like his own, Lucan could not subject him to the daily grief a relationship with him would guarantee. The night terrors. The fear. The weight of it all bore so heavily on his shoulders that even to share a portion of it would have reproached him. He was better off alone, where the only person who would suffer for his illness was himself.

Lucan thought about the party winding down, and what it meant. It meant Simon would be gone, soon. He became aware of the elder man at his side, but did not look down. For a moment, they regarded the twinkling stars together, as if seeing something invisible to all other eyes but their own. A question broke the silence. "Home," he answered simply, before elaborating. "With Synnove. She'd have been right happy to see Keevan now." Lucan smiled, but the smile vanished quickly. "Sometimes... it's like I'm not here at all. Like, I'm there, and all of it's happening again. But it don't make much difference; I can't save her." The small man lowered his head and gazed out across the gardens. Greg's gardens. "Why?" he asked suddenly, looking at Simon. "Why'd you want to know that?"

 

[Simon Blackmoore]

Simon felt like he ought to have known what Lucan was going to say. He knew the story; he knew it too intimately, and there was nothing in the world he could do to change how history had gone. All he had was this, here and now. That thought struck the editor like a lightning bolt. There was only here. Lucan spent half his time in the present and half his time in a endless loop, reliving his sister's last moments and wishing she was anywhere but gone. Without realising it, he too had been sucked into the maelstrom as he watched the youngest White drift further and further away. He had- they had- too many years left in them to continue on as they were. Perhaps there was little Lucan could do to change the way his mind worked, but Simon could change his actions. It wasn't too late to have something with him. If he failed, if Lucan rejected him, it wouldn't be because he never tried at all.

He realised that with his epiphany he'd forgotten to answer Lucan's question, and he shook himself with an apologetic look to his friend. Now who was off with the fairies?
"I suppose because there isn't ... here. With us. Simon took a deep, shaky breath before amending his statement. "With me." Before Lucan could seize upon that, he turned to face him and shocked himself by how much closer the other man was that he'd thought. Courage. Don't step back. "I want to know because I want to understand. Understanding you is important to me. Being there for you is important to me. To me, you are ..." You are ... He couldn't finish that sentence. Why was it so difficult?
"Is it wrong?" Simon burst out, abrupt but quiet. He feared having startled Lucan and stepped back, but he placed a hand comfortingly on his shoulder as he did so. "There's so much I don't know. Is it wrong for me to care so much about you, because we're supposed to be like brothers?"​

 

[Lucan White]

Lucan's brow knitted as he tried to make sense of Simon's riddle. There? Here? With him? But before he could comprehend it, Simon turned to face him, and impulsively Lucan turned like his mirror. He could feel the warmth of Simon's body from where he stood - or was it his own? It was impossible to tell.

He thought hard about the information he was receiving. He'd always known Simon had desired to be there for him, for this was surely what had first brought them together all those years ago on the beach. Simon cared. Lucan appreciated it. This was no revelation. But something had changed in the taller man, and Lucan could discern it by the touch on his shoulder, the rawness of his tone. For the first time, Lucan thought, he wasn't just looking at Simon, but seeing him. A part of him that Lucan had fantasised of had opened up at last.

But was it wrong?

Lucan couldn't answer this. No, love so deep and powerful as this could never be wrong, whether brothers-in-law or not. The real question was, would it be wrong of Lucan to subject Simon to a lifetime of his company? His mind stretched back over his marriage to Esmerelda. If she'd been unhappy, Simon would be too. He couldn't do it.
The lengthening silence drew Lucan from his thoughts with a sense of urgency; Simon was still waiting for a reply. "Simon..." he began uneasily. "I don't think I can do this to you. You know what I'm like. I..." I love you. Lucan looked up into Simon's eyes, and suddenly couldn't bring himself to turn away the one man who made him feel alive. "I really, really want to kiss you."

 

[Simon Blackmoore]

Despite his anxiety, Simon's face creased into a smile. What he'd heard wasn't a no- it was an echo of his own fear, and that told him that Lucan felt the same way. That was the best news he'd ever heard in his life. If they loved one another, and he was sure now that they did, the only people that could come between them was themselves. Simon wasn't going to let himself self-sabotage and he wouldn't let Lucan do so, either. They deserved at least one good thing in their lives.

"You're not doing this to me," he said gently. The hand on Lucan's shoulder dragged up his neck and into the curls at his nape, cradling his head in his hand. "You're doing this with me." Then he tilted him back, Lucan's head resting heavy in his palm, and kissed him.
It was reverent at first, hesitant with lack of practise and no small amount of disbelief, but the warmth of his friend pulled tight against his chest soothed the kiss into the passion and longing it was spurred by. When at last they parted, Simon thumbed the shorter man's cheek.
"You don't have to be afraid anymore, not of hurting me. I'm telling you now, I chose this. I'm yours." Simon pressed his lips to the corner of Lucan's left eye, then the right. "I love you."​