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

Entry tags:

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ronan did as Adam bid, breathing and bringing his arms back up around his boyfriend's waist. Heart thundering in his chest, he relaxed, finding comfort in being close to Adam. In his scent. As he calmed he managed to get himself more under control. The ache in his back went away and he banished the feathers, leaving only the sharpness of his nails, which refused to go away. He could only assume it was because he was so turned on, cock aching in his pants still.

"I'll practice," he swore, "getting better control. You won't have to see it. I promise." Already churning ideas in his head, Ronan was thinking about how to channel his feelings for Adam into a way to school his form. Masturbating while thinking about Adam and forcing himself to keep his human shape would be a good start. Pushing himself to his limits. Forcing that disgusting, clawed, nightmareish part of himself away.

"I just need time."

"Ronan," Adam said, gently scolding and yet very fond. "I'm not asking you to get better control. The only thing I've asked of you is for you to show me the truth. You asked me to wait until you open the chest, so I will. I'm sorry, I told you I'd take things slow. I didn't realize I was making you lose control."

Kissing him softly, Adam watched Ronan's eyes for a moment more, then let go so that he could get the pizza. It was slightly burned, but still good, and he set it on the counter, reaching for Ronan to kiss him again in order to reassure his boyfriend.

He felt terribly bereft when Adam stepped away from him. Cold. Lonely.

The only thing I've asked of you is for you to show me the truth. Those words made his heart sink. Still, he didn't want to show Adam the truth. Adam liked his human form. He knew it was his own fault for bringing it up in the first place, but Ronan wasn't dishonest. Romance was something special, something sacred to him. It felt wrong not to tell Adam that he was a monster. To pretend like he was something he wasn't.

He had to make a choice. Either he showed Adam what he was really like, or he broke up with him. And breaking up would Adam would break Ronan.

The kiss did make him feel better. Silently, he nodded before grabbing a slice of pizza, quickly finishing it off.

"I'm going to head up. I have—something I need to take care of." He still had an erection despite stopping their fooling around. It was annoying, and he needed to go jerk off.

"Good night." Leaning over, he pressed a soft kiss against Adam's cheek.

"Ronan," Adam said, reaching for him and winding their fingers together. "Are we okay? You're not upset or mad? I like you just the way you are, okay? However you are. I like what's in here." He tapped a knuckle against Ronan's chest, hating the thought of saying goodbye, even if it was only for the night. After the intimacies of the day and all they'd been through emotionally, parting from Ronan's side felt impossible. "I'll miss you. Even though I know you're just upstairs."

Ronan shook his head.

"Don't be stupid," he said, studying their joined hands. "I'm not mad." Not at Adam, anyway. He was pissed off at himself for being so damn indecisive, for being scared. Glancing up, he searched Adam's eyes, a little amazed that he could say something like that with such confidence. But he didn't sense any lies there.

"I'll miss you too," Ronan admitted, catching Adam's wrist so he could kiss that knuckle. From the other room Chansaw cawed, and Ronan's mouth tilted with a smirk. "Keep Chainsaw tonight. She's good company." Much as he wanted to cuddle up to Adam and sleep with him, that wasn't something he was willing to risk.

Then he let Adam go. Eyes lingering, he finally turned and headed upstairs before he could change his mind. When he reached his room he closed the door quietly and locked it, already fiercely missing Adam. Dropping into his bedding, he pushed his pants down around his thighs and began to jerk off, thinking about Adam the whole while and wishing it was his hand, or his mouth. Groaning when he came, Ronan felt empty as he looked at his come covered fingers and licked them clean. It wasn't any good without Adam. He hadn't even begun to change when masturbating, even when thinking about the other boy. There was just something about being with him that made Ronan lose his control so easily.

It was like his body was betraying him. Trying to force showing Adam his true self. It was like a subconscious desire, to be fully loved as he truly was, even though he didn't know how Adam would react. Plus, being able to look at and tolerate a monster was one thing. But fucking a monster? That was something else altogether. Ronan didn't think Adam would be able to get it up for a nightmare.

When Ronan fell asleep, it was to thoughts of Adam. Wanting him. Missing him.

And the promise he'd made.

In his dream he was in a forest. Tall, tall trees that whispered too low for him to hear. There was a girl hiding among them—small, very small, with choppy blond hair and big vibrant eyes. She watched him warily and he watched her in turn. He'd... seen her in his dreams, before. They regarded each other for a while and, when Ronan sat down on the ground, she approached.

"What are you looking for?" she asked, a little nervous, but mostly calm. He shrugged. "I made a promise. I'm looking for something that can unlock a lock that can't be unlocked. What opens something that can't be opened?"

The girl blinked at him. "Have you tried asking it to open?"

He stared at her. "What? It's not alive. I can't ask it something like that."

She shrugged at him. "Isn't that true, though? You can try and force something. You can steal. You can trick. But isn't the best way to make something open up to ask it to?"

Ronan didn't have an answer. When he woke up, he was aching for Adam, and wondering if he was crazy for considering asking the trunk to open.

Adam felt better saying goodbye with that reassurance. He went to bed with a book, reading late because he felt too restless to sleep.

He finally laid down, but restlessness still itched at him. He wanted Ronan. He ached for him, skin oversensitive and cock throbbing, yearning for Ronan, his Ronan.

After tossing and turning for a couple hours, he got up to pace.

The door at the bottom of the stairs was unlocked. He crept up it, wanting, but knowing that he shouldn't intrude, that he shouldn't violate Ronan's privacy. Torn between want and respect, Adam sat down on the stairs, resting his head on his arms and feeling miserable with longing for a moment, resolving to only let himself indulge in the feeling for a minute before he went back to bed.

He fell asleep like that.

Getting up after that dream was a slow process for Ronan. Exhausted even though he had slept, when he finally opened his door and went to go down the stairs, he thought he was hallucinating. Adam? Crouching, Ronan gently brushed some stray hair away from the other boy's cheek. How long has he been here?

With the utmost care so he wouldn't wake his boyfriend, Ronan cradled him in his arms. Taking slow and steady steps, he brought Adam back to his old bedroom. Sleeping on the stairs was no good. Rather than tuck him in, Ronan slipped into the bed beside him, keeping his arms fast around Adam and burying his nose in the crook of his shoulder.

Actually sleeping was too dangerous but closing his eyes was less risky. Ronan could spend hours just listening to Adam breathe. Chainsaw plopped onto the foot of the bed and watched them fondly.

Adam murmured sleepily as he was shifted, nuzzling instinctively into Ronan's warmth and making a futile grasp for him as he was set down. Sighing once as Ronan hugged up against him, Adam slipped into a deeper sleep, knowing on a primal level that he was safe.

He woke up from a pleasant dream to a feeling of warmth and safety. This was a very new sensation, so he simply assumed that he was still dreaming. As he woke, he became aware of Ronan's breath on his skin, of Ronan's arms encircling him, and he realized it wasn't a dream at all.

"Ronan," he breathed, deeply pleased by finding that his dream was in fact his reality.

When Adam began to stir, Ronan shifted back about an inch, to give his boyfriend some room to wake up comfortably. The sound of his name warmed him as it always did when Adam said it.

"Adam," he replied, nuzzling his face against the slope of the other boy's neck. "Stupid, you fell asleep on the stairs. You'll get sick that way." He knew he was partially to blame; Adam hadn't wanted to part from him any more than he wanted to part from Adam. But he'd been to embarrassed to take care of himself in front of the other boy—that, and he didn't trust himself not to show something he wasn't ready to.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," Adam said, yawning and shifting so that he could nuzzle at his lover. "No nightmares." He said it like it was news, because he'd gotten used to nightmares as his normal state of being.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep on the stairs," Adam said, embarrassed by it. "I was restless and pacing. And then I woke up here. With you." He smiled, warm and happy because he'd expected to wake up lonely. "You came."

Hearing Adam say you came gave him a very embarrassing thought, considering what he had just done the night before. God, Adam was ruining him. Even if it was a thought no hot-blooded man could deny.

Grunting, Ronan tightened his hug.

"Shit, I almost tripped over you. Just knock next time." He didn't want Adam to sit on the stairs, lonely. It was too sad a thought.

Smoothing away some of Adam's hair, Ronan pressed a soft kiss against the back of his neck.

Adam shook his head in response. "You needed your space. And I'm not allowed in your attic yet. I didn't mean to fall asleep on the stairs. I shouldn't have been lurking there."

Yawning and sitting up, Adam gave him a brief kiss and a smile. "I want coffee. And more pancakes."

"That sounds good," Ronan agreed with a small grunt, sitting up as well and cracking his neck.

"Coffee, pancakes, strawberries... fuck it, might as well add ice cream." Chainsaw cawed in agreement, already flapping and headed out and down the hall. Ronan swung his legs over the side of the bed and pressed the flats of his feet against the floor. Pausing.

"I think," he said, "I had an idea. For the lock."

"Yeah?" Adam pounced, hugging his arms around Ronan's waist and kissing the side of his throat. "What's your idea?"

Getting up, Adam pulled on a clean shirt, briefly flashing a too-skinny chest with wiry, hungry musculature. Then he kissed Ronan's cheek and ducked past him, darting down the stairs.

He felt exuberant with energy for the first time in years. Well-rested and happy, a sense of playfulness had emerged that only Gansey had ever been able to bring out before, with his reliable ability to make Adam laugh. He reached the kitchen and hid against the wall just inside the doorframe, overflowing with happiness and playfulness.

"It's stupid." That was all he said as he watched Adam dress. The flash of belly and chest was ... tantalizing. Adam was beautiful. There was very little about the boy that Ronan didn't like. Maybe he wasn't perfect, but Ronan was attracted to those imperfections. Perfect wasn't real.

Then Adam darted out as foolhardy as Chainsaw and Ronan grinned a wicked grin.

"Where do you think you're going?" he growled, playful. Following along, Ronan crept down the stairs as quietly as he could, sliding along the wall and peeking around.

Adam laughed at the sight of Ronan, pouncing him for another kiss. He slid his arms around Ronan's neck, hugging close to him, and then tightening his arms and pressing closer, clinging to his boyfriend. "Is this what happiness feels like?" he murmured, swallowing hard. He felt overwhelmed with his emotions, with his affection and need for Ronan. His Ronan. His boyfriend.

"Ronan," he murmured, heart thudding, breath ragged. "Ronan."

"You dork."

Ronan wrapped his arms around Adam's waist, tight. Was this what happiness felt like? That wasn't something Ronan could really answer, but if he had to guess, he would say that it was.

From her perch in the kitchen, Chainsaw clicked her beak, watching them. Ronan nuzzled against the side of Adam's head before shooting her a look, "Voyeur." She cawed in agreement.

Laughing again at that, slightly breathless, Adam detangled from Ronan and patted Chainsaw's head. "It's a little bit scary, how fast I've found myself tangled up in you. How quickly you've become the center of my world."

Blushing, Adam went over to make coffee, focusing on the task of breakfast so that he could hide his blushing a little.

Ronan glanced away, a little embarrassed.

"You can't help it," he said after a moment. "You're living in my house, filled with ... some of my things. There used to be more." Though he didn't totally believe his own explanation. Hell, all Adam had was a dinky clock and a toothbrush, yet Ronan couldn't stop thinking about him in return.

"I don't know if I should be the center of it though," he continued, ducking under one of the cabinets to get a frying pan. "I think your happiness should be the center. I just want to be a part of that."

"You're the biggest part of that," Adam told him, touched by how sweet and selfless Ronan could be. He grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him in for a soft kiss and a smile.

Eyes lingering on Ronan's face, Adam ducked his eyes shyly and turned back to the coffee pot. "What was your idea about the lock?"

Ronan wanted to keep kissing Adam, but there was breakfast to be made, and he wasn't about to have a heavy make out session while he couldn't control his form. Not in the light of day, anyway.

"If you wanted something from a person, what would you do?"

"Give up on whatever it was I wanted, and figure out a way to get what I needed on my own," Adam answered. His bitterness and hurt was so ingrained that his tone came out calm and matter of fact. People didn't help him. Or, if they did, it was like Gansey, in ways he didn't want, hadn't asked for, and couldn't ever repay. As a rule, he asked for nothing, because he had nothing to offer in return but his own deeply inadequate self.

Getting out the pancake mix, Adam measured it into a bowl and cracked an egg into the mix.

"Okay," Ronan nodded, "but let's pretend like we're not cynical and shat on by the world. What would a regular, well-adjusted person do if they wanted something?"

There wasn't much help Ronan could offer Adam since he was a believer in too many hands spoil the pot, so he hung back, watching Adam work in his usual intense way. Adam's hands were probably his biggest kink.

"Oh," said Adam, continuing to work on making pancakes. "Well, Gansey would just ask. And then the very mountains would move for him, because he's Gansey."

That part, at least, Adam wasn't bitter about. He had been, once, but he'd decided that he preferred Gansey to be unsoiled by the world. Someone needed to still believe the best in people. Preferably Gansey, otherwise there wouldn't be anyone to believe the best of Adam.

"Well, I'm not as fucking perfect and charming as Gansey but I figured... dreamed, that is, that I should try. Asking, that is. I'm never going to be goddamn Prince Charming."

Ronan shrugged. "It's a dream thing so normal rules kind of go out the window. But it's still a lock. There has to be some kind of sense for that."

Picking at his nails and frowning, the boy held back a sigh. It sounded even stupider out loud.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject