marlowemuses | who could ever learn to love a...

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who could ever learn to love a...

39 Excelsior Place was the oldest house on the road.

In fact, 39 Excelsior Place was the oldest house in the neighborhood. Through the years Henrietta, Virginia had mostly kept up with the times. Old, decrepit homes were replaced with bright white houses and wooden fences. The convenience store went from locally owned to a chain. The schools got better. Wifi was available in almost every pubic place.

39 Excelsior Place did not keep up with the times. Crouching darkly at the end of the road, squatting fiercely in its dead end, the house was every bit the past it came from. Tall with gothic architecture, unwelcoming pointed gates, and black bricks the hollow eyes on its gray and white face. Huge windows were long covered with sheets, as had been most of the furniture. Once upon a time the house had been beautiful. Once upon a time, however, was a long time ago. In 2016, most people stayed away from 39 Excelsior Place. Smartly so. Its resident monster hated everyone.

Everyone except for its sole resident, elderly Mr. Greerish. Greerish said he had a family. Nobody ever game to visit so the monster called him a liar. Greerish placidly made excuses, such as They’re very busy and It’s been a while since we’ve caught up. Apparently Greerish had a favorite nephew: a baby when they last met. It had smiled at him once. No one else in the family smiled at him.

The monster called him an idiot. Greerish laughed and returned to his books. That was how they found the old man dead. With a pleasant smile and a book in his lap.

Fine. The monster didn’t care about Greerish anyway. It had only just begun to tolerate him. With his death, 39 Excelsior Place would be free of pests and the monster could hide away from the rest of the world until it eventually died. That was what happened to monsters. He’d read the old books Greerish kept so neat in the bookcase. They all ended the same. The monster was killed, burned, staked. The handsome prince got the princess. Or, in the monster’s personal interests, prince. Not that it mattered.

What the monster did not know was that there was a Will. A thing that had been executed by the local priest out of pity for old man Greerish. There was only one stipulation.

Everything I own, including 39 Excelsior Place, will be so inherited by my nephew, Adam Parrish.

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She opened and closed her mouth several times, like a fish, face turning red at his frankness.

"I don't think you understand how big of a job restoring this house is going to be," she tried, clutching her booklets. "Even for two... men... pulling this place out of the gutter is going to take a lot of time and money! Not to mention the terrible history. Why on earth would you want to live in a house where a murder took place? Not to mention your own poor uncle, but at least he went peacefully."

When she said murder Ronan stilled and, from that point on, was very quiet.

She looked down. "Is your cat all right? Poor sweetheart looks a bit sick."

"He's just ill-tempered. Dislikes strangers, and he's very protective of me. I assure you, I'm very happy with my haunted house, and I want a house that's a project. What is it, ma'am, that makes you so very interested in a house that would be such a lot of time and money to renovate?"

Adam picked up Ronan, worried about him after his reaction, and wanting the emotional comfort of him. He hugged the cat close, kissing his forehead once.

Ronan's ears were slick against his skull. The kiss was somewhat reassuring, but he still closed his eyes and curled into Adam, remembering too much that he didn't want to remember.

"Well, my husband would have it knocked down and then we would sell the property," she admitted. "There's enough space on this lot for seven or more townhouses! Really, we can pay you a very handsome amount. More than you've ever seen, maybe. You could travel. Go to a good college. Live in a city. Isn't that worth it?"

"No," Adam said, hugging Ronan protectively. "What I want is this house, and my partner, and this life. I've told you no repeatedly now, ma'am. Since you aren't willing to accept that answer, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave my property. If you return here, I will consider it trespassing, and I will prosecute. Is that quite clear?"

Scowling, Adam went to shut the door without waiting for an answer.

She gaped again and stood there, blinking at the door before turning and walking down the pathway in a huff. Not that she was finished. Oh no. Far from it.

Ronan loved Adam's arms, too. His hands. His arms. How warm he was. When Adam closed the door he didn't say anything right away. Murder. She was right. A cursed house. Ronan could picture the beads of blood spreading across the hardwood floors perfectly. The memories made him ache.

"You have weird taste," he finally breathed, ears still slicked back against his head.

"Uh-huh," Adam agreed, going to curl up on the couch with Ronan hugged to his chest. "Don't care. This house is mine, and I like it just the way it is. Monster and raven and all. Meant what I said, too. It's not just mine. I want to live here with you."

He stroked Ronan gently, scratching at his head and stroking his back. "I want to see your garden in bloom."

Ronan purred when Adam touched him, nuzzling his face down into the other boy's chest, pressing against him possessively. It was hard to believe that Adam had really turned her down; she promised him so much money, Ronan figured any sane guy would have taken it.

Not Adam.

Ronan loved him.

He continued to nuzzle his face and paws against Adam, delighting in his scent and touch. It was less dangerous when he was a cat. Maybe he should just stay a cat forever, then. That way Adam would hug him and Ronan could love him safely.

"It's your garden," he said, words muffled by Adam's chest. "It's for you."

Adam smiled, filled with gratitude and affection. He hugged Ronan closer, nuzzling his face into Ronan's soft fur. "I love it, Ronan. Thank you."

His heart was pounding, and he never wanted to let go. He had someone to love. Two someones, though his affection for Ronan eclipsed his affection for Chainsaw. "I'm so grateful to have the two of you. This house. Everything."

Ronan's little heart was beating furiously in his chest. Oh, God, he liked it when Adam rubbed his face against him. He loved Adam's face. His lips. It was like every feeling he'd ever tried to deny he possessed in the last 40 years was burning under his skin. Ronan wanted to pretend he didn't feel, but he did. Intensely, and with every inch of his soul.

It was too much to say that he was more grateful to have Adam. Instead, he continued to purr and nuzzle Adam, trying to get rid of his piles of affection in a mostly innocent way.

From the kitchen, Chainsaw peeked her head out and made eye contact with Adam—and then winked at him.

"Your bird just winked at me," Adam smirked, nuzzling at him. He didn't want to let go. This felt too nice. He just wanted to stay like this forever. "Nosy featherhead."

He rubbed at Ronan's back, enjoying the purring against his chest and Ronan's affectionate cuddling. "I was going to ask if you wanted to sleep with me. As a cat, I mean. We could just... you could sleep on my bed. It'd be nice to have the company."

Ronan was quiet.

Jesus Christ, he wanted that. Sleeping close to Adam. And, while he was a cat, any sort of reactions from being so close to Adam would be barely noticeable.

But there were also the matter of his dreams. Slippery, tangible things. What happened if he woke up choking on blood? It had happened before. Or worse, what if he changed in his sleep, and Adam saw his true form? The very thought made him cold.

"Okay," he said.

It would be fine if he didn't sleep. Or, when he did get tired, he could return to his room while Adam was out. He's already gotten into the habit of sitting beside Adam's bed for hours.

"You don't have to," Adam murmured. He stroked Ronan's ears between his fingertips, soothed by being able to give and receive affection. "But you're invited. Anytime you want."

Adam nuzzled their faces together, happy that Ronan let him do this. "I'm so glad you're my monster. You're an extremely adorable monster."

An invitation... he liked that. The freedom to come and go. Maybe that was the next thing he could try to get a hand on; nightmares, and bringing them back into the real world with him.

Ronan snorted when Adam called him adorable and glanced away, "The fuck are you saying? It's only because I'm a fucking cat." Adorable? That was a new one. Glancing back, Ronan pressed his mouth against Adam's cheek. It was almost a kiss, but not exactly; his tongue flicked out and he just grazed Adam with it before he wiggled and darted away, flustered and embarrassed he'd even gone that far.

Tail standing straight, he went back into the kitchen.

"My popsicle melted."

"You could put it back in the freezer," Adam suggested. He followed after, remembering the sweet feeling of that kiss against his cheek.

He thought Ronan was a pretty adorable human, too, but he wasn't quite brave enough to say so.

Getting out his laptop and the wireless router, Adam started setting them up in the living room. They'd said the wireless would be working today. He wanted to find out.

He nudged the puddle that was his popsicle with his nose and then wiped his whiskers clean.

"Nah, it's dead."

Jumping off the counter, he wandered back toward the living room, not liking having Adam out of his line of vision. When he saw the computer, all the hairs on his body went straight up and he yowled at it.

"The fuck is that??"

"My new laptop," Adam explained, not looking up. "I've never had one before, and it's expensive, so please be careful with it if you use it, okay? I don't care if you watch porn or surf the internet or whatever."

Glancing over and seeing Ronan all ruffled, he laughed. "What? You do know what a computer is, don't you?"

Keeping his distance, Ronan paced, sending the laptop dirty looks.

"Does it fucking look like I've seen one before? Holy shit, I'm not gonna touch that. I don't like it." He didn't even like cash registers much, but tolerated the one at the convenience store when he decided to buy peanuts or jerky on occasion.

"Why?? Is that why you got it? To look at porn?" He sounded a touch offended.

Adam just rolled his eyes. He could argue, but he had a better idea. Putting on an old black and white horror movie, he scooted down on the couch with the computer on his belly. He suspected that Ronan's curiosity might be stronger than his superstitious dislike of technology.

Settling in with his movie and pretending to not be focused on Ronan, he waited.

Ronan, for his part, proved to be very good at being suspicious.

He paced back and forth for a good ten minutes before inching closer. The he immediately stepped back and send the computer more unhappy looks, scowling and squinting. He had seen televisions, a long time ago, and it sounded like Adam was watching something.

For the next ten minutes he stood without moving so much as a muscle, like a statue.

Then he inched forward, stepped back, stepped forward again. Then he meowed, softly, pawing at the ground and watching Adam.

"Come on, Charlotte," Adam said, patting his shoulder in invitation. "Come and watch the movie with me. I like this one."

Smirking a little, he glanced over. "You're a terrifying and intimidating shapeshifter, but I pull out a magic box and you're spooked? Maybe I should be running this haunted house."

"It's not magic," Ronan scowled, still giving the computer a rather nasty stinkeye. Adam had a point, he knew, but he couldn't help but to feel inherently mistrustful of it. What if people could watch them through it? What if it burned down the house? All around, it just seemed like bad business.

But at Adam's invitation he dragged himself, the long way around, onto the couch and stopping only when he'd slunk onto Adam's shoulder.

"How expensive is this damn thing?"

"None of your business," Adam said, turning his head and kissing Ronan's little cat cheek. "If you don't like it, that's fine, you don't have to use it. If you want to use it, I'll teach you. If you don't want to use it, then you can just trust me. It's nothing to be scared of."

He reached up to scratch at Ronan's head, then relaxed again, enjoying his movie and Ronan's presence.

Ronan was far less interested in the movie than he was in Adam. He delighted in watching Adam and how his fingers felt scrubbing against his fur. It was comfortable. Lazy. Drowsy.

Which was why Ronan fell asleep.

At first nothing happened. He slept like any old cat might, purring and little feet twitching. But then something happened. Body jerking, his eyes fluttered, and when they finally jerked open a load of leaves fell from the ceiling, covering them and everything around them. It was like all the trees decided to dump their leaves at once, and do it inside the house.

And Ronan the cat was panting, looking sick and exhausted.

Adam yelped in surprise at the sudden shower of leaves. Upending his laptop to get the leaves off, he shut it and set it aside. He didn't know what had happened, but Ronan was his first priority. He reached for him, not touching yet, just offering his arms and his embrace if Ronan wanted to cling to him.

"Ronan? Are you okay? I'm here."

Rather than cling, Ronan recoiled, pushing back across the couch cushions frantically until he hit the arm. Then he shook his head, swearing.

"Shit. I—oh, fuck."

Without another word he darted off the couch and into the leaves. Tunneling through them, he picked a spot to curl up and feel miserable, hating everything that he was.

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