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â i couldn't pick, so you can 8D )
They were rock and gas and fire and Ulysses felt that if he looked at them alone for one minute more heâd die, pressed down to the earth by the very thought of them, those stars that buzzed and hummed above him. Half his body was hanging out the window, fingers clutching the sill, the paint peeling more when he tightened his grip and pulled himself inside, pupils blown and voice quieter than he thought, then louder.
âTrev? Trev! Come here. Please? Come here.â The words were melting as he said them; Ytzak had dumped him over the phone, no reason given, a quick three minutes that were followed by a five minute crying jag and a two minute choice of pills to assuage the grief.
Victor had just gotten home, back to the flat they were both calling home, though Ulysses was technically the one on the lease. Even so, sometimes he slept on the couch and his guest slept in his bed, sometime he and Victor and Mags would fall asleep on the couch together, a bit tangled, slim jean-covered limbs and arms with bangles or rolled up cotton sleeves, the echoes of Magsâ laughter and her whispered âWe can totally share him, Twizâ lingering in the morning light.
The tall man walked to the bedroom, struck by the burst of cold air from the window. Heâd dropped his jacket by the front door, regretted it now, looked at his friend and pondered what heâd taken together, wondered if it was a good night for him to take them too.
âIs everything alright, Ulysses?â In the dim light, it was harder to read the Welshmanâs expression.
âCome over here, Trev. Come look at the stars.â Slurred voice, cottony soft accent. There was no reason not to acquiesce; Victor walked over and both of them leaned out of the window, awkwardly turned upwards towards the chill dark night sky. Four hands on the sill, twenty fingers, Ulyssesâ covered with little scars from the chemistry lab and Victorâs slim and almost reflecting the moon above them.
âTheyâre a bit lovely tonight,â Victor commented mildly, turning to watch Ulysses profile as the other young man looked up.
âNoâŚLord, Trev, theyâre coming right down onto me. Everythingâs coming right down. Itâs all I can think about. If I donât watch them, theyâll fall even faster.â As Ulysses spoke, Victor frowned. Maybe this wasnât a combination of chemicals he wanted racing through his veins.
âItâs alright there, Ulysses. Honestly. Come inside and weâll have some tea. The stars will stay put, I promise.â
Ulysses shook his head, still looking up.
âItâs all I can think about, Trev. ÎĎÎżĎĎ Î˝Îą ĎÎąĎ Î˛ÎżÎˇÎ¸ÎŽĎĎ.â His mouth wrapped around the Greek comfortably, desperately.  And Victor didnât know what it meant, but he felt the meaning as he wrapped one of his hands over Ulyssesâ on the chipped sill. There wasnât an answer, no words would suffice, but he pressed his fingers over his friendâs as though they were piano keys, a silent duet, feeling Ulyssesâ fingers react under his as he recognized the song. Something to blot out the starsâ drowning song above their heads
