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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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.

"Ronan!" Adam called, worrying about him. But he wasn't sure where the cat had disappeared to.

Sighing at Ronan's prickliness, Adam looked around the room and laughed. "Well, this explains why there were so many leaves around the house."

Ronan was magic. In so many ways. Adam picked up an armful of leaves and tossed them up into the air, spinning once as they tumbled down around him. Then he sat down in the middle of the floor, admiring the autumn leaves all around him, even though it was still early summer. "Chainsaw, there are leaves to play with," he called, amazed by Ronan's magic, even though it was clear Ronan wasn't proud of it.

Chainsaw crashed into the room in excitement, dipping and throwing her body into the leaves, cawing as she tried to catch the ones that fluttered in her break.

Ronan watched from where he had burrowed. Adam hadn't shown anything but fascination; understandable, given all that he had brought back this time were fall leaves. He had been dreaming about walking through the forest with Adam in the summer.

Gently, he nudged Adam's back with his nose, cocking his head and looking up at the other boy from between leaves. There were so many they could literally swim in them.

Adam startled slightly, surprised by the cold, wet nose to his back, but then he laughed at the sight of Ronan covered with leaves. He laid one on Ronan's head, between his ears like a crown. "You're magic," Adam said, happy and awestruck. "You dreamed leaves."

He tossed another bunch of them into the air, laughing as they tumbled down. He flopped onto his back, watching them flutter and spiral. "I live in a house of magic."

"Which is why," said Ronan, "we need to talk."

He watched as Adam tossed leaves and fell back into them. Sure, his dreams could bring forth lovely things, but...

Ronan stepped onto Adam's chest and curled there, staring straight down at the boy.

"This is dangerous. I need you to understand that." For once, there was no scowling, no tantrums, no sly grins or sarcasm. His face was even (as much as a cat's could be) and his gaze was deadly, burning into eyes.

"If you stay here, you could get seriously hurt. Or worse."

"I understand," Adam said, soft and honest. He petted Ronan's head. It was so much easier, with him as a cat. Adam didn't have to confront his feelings and desires for the boy. "Because you dreamed the leaves. And sometimes you might have nightmares."

Adam didn't want to think about that too much. But it was worth the risk. Hurt or worse. This house and Ronan represented everything that he wanted. He belonged. Ronan was growing him a garden.

"I'm staying."

Ronan stared at him for a good while. Trying to judge, trying to read, but Adam was... difficult to know. Most people were easy. They wore their desires on their sleeves, or in the lines of their faces. Adam was different. Adam was... sunlight. Warm.

He heaved a heavy sigh.

"You're stubborn," he accused, resting his chin on his paws, "but... I'm glad. I like it."

Adam smiled, scooping leaves on top of Ronan to bury him. "I like your magic."

Chainsaw's caw came from under the sea of leaves somewhere, and Adam laughed, enjoying the weight of Ronan on his chest as he laughed. "I'm so happy here with the two of you. I have almost everything I could ever desire."

Hearing that Adam was happy there with them warmed him through. If he was never happy another day, he could remember the feeling and live on it.

"Almost?" Ronan asked as he tugged his little body forward, pushing his nose against Adam's chin. "What's the rest, then?"

Chainsaw cawed again, in agreement, as though she was also quite interested in knowing.

"I mean, um," said Adam, suddenly embarrassed. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking away from them both, which was harder with Ronan sitting on his chest. "Hot boyfriend. Uh... well. Really, that's it. I want someone. Romantically. That's... er." He bit down on his lower lip, feeling awkward.

"Oh."

Of course he would. Most people did, didn't they? Ronan's ears slicked back as he looked up at Adam. It would be so easy to say, What about me? The words were ready to burst out of his chest.

But Adam couldn't be romantic with a nightmare. Even if he had terrible taste that would be—wishful thinking, on Ronan's part. Everything Ronan loved got hurt. That was how things went; he didn't want that for Adam.

Stretching as casually as he could, Ronan slipped off of Adam and touched the floor with his paws.

"What kind of someone do you usually like?" he ventured, trying to at least be a helpful friend.

Edited 2016-11-08 03:02 (UTC)

"Not really sure," Adam said, sitting up and fidgeting awkwardly. You. "Quirky young women aren't my type, I figured that out. I thought for a little bit that charismatic and confident young men might be my type, but I don't... that's not what I want."

He chewed on his lower lip, running his hand nervously through his hair. "I just. Theoretically. One day. I wish I had a boyfriend."

Ronan glanced back up at Adam as he fidgeted. He hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable; if he could have given him whatever it was that he wanted, he would have. But all Ronan had to give was himself. It scared him, considering offering. It scared him, the thought Adam might accept. Yet he yearned for it.

"Yeah, well... you will. And when you do, don't bring him around here. I don't wanna share you."

"Yeah?" Adam said, pleased and amused by that statement. He reached for Ronan, pulling him onto his lap and sitting him there like a little kid. Kissing between Ronan's ears, he rubbed at his cat belly. "You don't wanna share me, huh? Jealous, pussycat?"

Ronan made a face, even if he rather liked having kisses between his ears and having his belly rubbed.

Again, Adam was getting the better of him. Wanting to give a little back, Ronan gave Adam a wicked look and began to change back into his human form as he was straddling his lap. It was quick and fluid, like he was shedding a coat, leaving him gloriously naked and leaning over Adam, touching the other boy's chin with his fingers.

"Very jealous," he growled, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Fuck," Adam breathed, starting to scramble backward for fear of being squished, but then he was caught by that touch, by that smirk and that growl, of Ronan confident and playful above him.

Tempted, he curled one hand around Ronan's hip, encouraging him to stay. "Better stake your claim, then," he said, soft and flirtatious.

He'd expected Adam to get startled and curse. That made him laugh. The hand on his hip, however, made his stomach throw itself upside down. Belatedly he realized he wasn't wearing anything, only covered with some convenient modesty leaves, and that he was very close to Adam's lips.

Self-hatred and doubt plagued his thoughts.

He told them to shut the fuck up, and leaned forward to brush his lips against Adam's.

It was his first kiss. Eyes closed, a small crease on his brow, he kissed gently and almost shyly. When he pulled back he opened eyes to search Adam's face, looking at him as he had been since he first met him, watching, trying to read his expression.

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