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the sound of the back gate opening alerted alex to the fact that he was no longer alone. he sat up from where he had been lying in the yard to see wilbur soot. seeing his boyfriend usually made alex smile and giggle in the softest voice, but this time he turned away, fixing his gaze upon the night sky once again.
“hey, alex,” wilbur whispered as he lay next to alex. “what’s up?”
alex shrugged, a silent admission of indifference.
“nah, something’s up. you only look at the stars when something’s wrong.” wilbur gave alex a fleeting glance as he spoke, checking for any reaction on his boyfriend’s face. “and you only ask me to join you if you’re really upset.”
“just tired.” alex mumbled in response, hoping to keep the littlest of a conversation at his current state.
“have you tried going to sleep?” the brunette questioned.
“not that kind of tired.” alex grumbled, bringing his knees up to his face, and burying his face into them.
“oh,” wilbur said softly. “do you want to talk about it?”
alex shook his head, a sad smile forming on his face. “look at the stars.” his voice was almost inaudible. “ursa minor is that constellation right there.”
“i know, i know.” wilbur chuckled. “you tell me about that one a lot.”
“and that one-” alex pointed his finger upwards. “that’s leo.”
“what’s that one, east of it?”
alex furrowed his brow. “i can’t remember the name.”
“i’m gonna call it big q.” wilbur smirked.
“why?”
“‘cause it’s pretty.”
alex laughed, and wilbur realised how long it had been since he had last heard that sound, a genuine laugh that wasn't faked of any sort.
“you can’t just name constellations like that.”
“who’s gonna stop me?”
alex turned his head to the side and looked at wilbur properly for the first time all night. even in the dim light provided by a flickering streetlamp, he was still strikingly beautiful.
“well, i won’t,” alex affirmed. “i won’t stop you.”
“alex?” wilbur spoke out, softly, his accent standing out.
“yeah?”
“you really love the stars.”
“how could i not?” alex's voice was full of wonder and admiration. “look at them.”
“i look at them all the time-”
“no. really look at them.”
wilbur sighed but did as he was told, shifting his view to the twinkling lights above.
“they’re so far away.” alex's voice was detached. “even light from the closest star takes over 4 years to reach us. but-” he gripped wilbur's hand and thumbed the skin gently. “we still get to see them, don’t we?”
“we do.”
“i think that the universe is beautiful. even the dark parts.”
alex traced his finger along the sky as if it were a canvas and he, a skilled artist, delicately infusing the tapestry with a soft blend of colors so dark that you were drawn into their gravitational pull, held in their soothing embrace. it wasn’t bright, or vivacious, or anything as needlessly complicated as that. the sky was simple. it was inexplicably humbling.
and the stars.
alex was in love with the stars. the way that they were always there, unlike the moon which came and went. the stars were a constant. he knew them all, their names ingrained into his mind and tattooed across his heart. throughout his childhood turmoil, his parents divorcing, moving to the other side of the country, his whole world being turned upside down, the stars had remained in the familiar constellations that alex had grown attached to.
their light was ethereal. little pinpricks of fire that surrounded the earth like glowing ashes cast into the wind. outlined against the sharp blackness, splashes of intense fury on the backdrop of the void; they were strong, confident, bold, everything alex wished he could be. to alex, the stars were the very definition of perfection.
“alex?” alex snapped out of his daze to see wilbur in front of his face. “you had this weird, dreamy look on your face.”
“sorry.”
“don’t apologize. i loved it.” the corners of wilbur's mouth lifted. “you always look really, really happy when you look at the stars.”
“they’re mesmerizing.”
“which one’s your favorite again? you’ve told me before, but they all have complicated names so i keep on-”
“sirius a.” alex pointed at a singular pulsating body. “it’s the brightest.”
“every time i look at it, i’m going to think of you, from now on.” wilbur laced his fingers around alex's, bringing them closer together.
“the stars. they make me happier.” alex brought down his hand and pushed against the grass, shifting into a sitting position. “but- at the same time, it’s sad.”
“how come?”
“some of these stars could already have died.” alex hesitated while he was speaking and wilbur could have sworn he saw a lonely tear trickle down alex's cheek. “and we wouldn’t even know, because they’re so far away.”
“what’s got you crying about a star’s death?” wilbur asked mildly.
“it just scares me, i guess.” alex sniffed and wiped his face. “that even the stars can be temporary. that one day, they’ll run out of fuel and explode and spew everything left of them into the corners of the universe, and they’ll be gone.”
wilbur covered alex's eyes with his hand. “you think too much.”
“i know.”
“i get what you mean, though. it’s weird that everything will be gone one day. but-” wilbur tilted alex's head until their faces were mere inches apart, unwilling to break the tentative, unspoken yet encompassing space between them. “-some things won’t. like this.” wilbur pressed his fingertips against his boyfriend’s, feeling the pulse beneath the skin. “like our love.”
“i love you,” alex said hastily. “i probably don’t say it enough, but i need to tell you that i love you. even more than i love the stars.”
“i know.” wilbur grinned. “and i love you too. and i’ll keep loving you, right up until the universe ends, and then a little bit after.”
“wilbur-”
“don’t think about the future. just remember that right now, we are eternal.”
“we are eternal.” alex repeated. the stars reflected off of his grey irises and danced, small flashes of yellow that were enough to set wilbur's heart on fire.
“we are eternal.” wilbur promised. “and i’m gonna love you for eternity.”
-
“wilbur,” alex started.
“yeah?”
“there’s-” he swallowed nervously. “there’s something that i need to tell you.”
-
-
-
(two years later)
it was the evening after alex's funeral. he had died two weeks prior, after a battle with leukemia.
to be honest, wilbur thought, staring down at the bouquet of lilies that hung limply in his hand, it wasn’t much of a battle. alex had told him about the cancer two years ago, the night wilbur had promised to love him forever. alex had never once complained, or resisted, or even expressed a desire to fight the thing that was killing him.
“we’re all going to die,” he stated, after being given just 3 months to live. “it’s just that i’m probably going to die before you.”
“you’re not going to die,” wilbur said.
“look at me.”
“no.”
“wilbur. look at me.”
wilbur did and turned his tear-stained face up, taking in the sight of alex's hollow cheeks and pale skin. his hairless head covered by a beanie. a hoodie swamping a too thin body.
“i’m fucking dying.”
“your body’s dying. you- you’re gonna live forever.”
alex smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “you’re so optimistic that it hurts.”
“eternity.” wilbur picked up alex's hand, his own trembling. “that’s what i promised, yeah?”
“yeah. i remember.”
“alex? do you wanna- do you want to see the stars?” wilbur stopped himself from saying one last time.
alex nodded.
-
that night, they lay down in alex's backyard, wilbur's arm wrapped around alex's frail body. alex named all the constellations, including the one he had forgotten that night, the one to the east of leo: cancer. wilbur wondered if he had faked not knowing the name, but it didn’t matter. none of it did. all that mattered was that alex gave a genuine, satisfied smile as he pointed out sirius a, his favorite star, the one which wilbur clung onto.
that was the last time alex smiled like that.
-
wilbur placed the flowers against alex's headstone, shuddering as he read the freshly engraved writing. alex's name, and then underneath, eight letters.
eternity.
he looked heavenwards, scanning the night sky and recognizing some of the formations of stars. lyra, one of the easiest to spot. cassiopeia, which had caused him and alex to argue about the correct pronunciation. and cancer, the one he swore he would never look at. the one that stole alex away.
in the middle of them all, alex's favorite star and a permanent reminder of him, was sirius a.
or at least, it should have been there.
but it wasn’t. that patch of sky was completely deserted, like the light had been plucked out and destroyed. it was gone.
and with a heavy heart, wilbur realized.
it would be a cold and empty eternity.