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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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.

Adam smirked a little at that, amused and warmed by Ronan's grumbling. He reached over, grabbing Ronan by the belt and pulling him close. "I'm not half in love with Gansey," he pointed out. If Ronan thought he wanted a Prince Charming, he hadn't been paying much attention.

Stealing a kiss and biting at Ronan's lower lip, Adam let him go again, pouring pancake batter into the skillet. "I think it's as good an idea as any. No harm in trying it."

"Damn straight," he scowled. A scowl that quickly vanished when Adam kissed him, softening his expression into something more longing instead.

He wanted Adam so badly, and hardly knew what to do with all of those feelings. Pent up, they made him want to slam his fist into the wall until his knuckles bled. What else could he do when he was constantly wound up around Adam? Looking at his beautiful hands, his neck, his collarbone...

"I'll look like a dumbfuck," he answered, frowning again. "Nothing worse than that, I guess."

"Well, if you want, I can ask first so that I look like a dumbfuck," Adam offered, with a grin. He watched the pancake for a minute, then went to get out some strawberries. He handed them over to Ronan. "Wash and slice, please."

While Ronan did that, he flipped pancakes, making them into a stack. Grinning every time he looked over at his boyfriend, he waited until Ronan had finished chopping, and then he pulled him close for a proper kiss, lingering in it and hugging Ronan close.

Slicing strawberries was fun. He chopped with enthusiasm, thunk thunk thunk with the knife, like a kid with a toy. It was quick work so he amused himself by trying to make the slices perfectly even in width for aesthetics.

When Adam kissed him, he melted into it as he always did, lips tasting like strawberries because of the slices he'd popped into his mouth while chopping. God, he liked Adam's kisses. Ronan would initiate some more of them himself if he weren't still so stunned at this beautiful creature wanting to be with him. It was hard to believe they weren't scattered dreams of something he desperately wanted.

"I'm not used to this." It was a soft mutter into Adam's hair after they kissed, as they hugged. "I want, and I don't know how to deal with it."

"I'm not either," Adam admitted, nuzzling at Ronan's jaw. "I'm not used to being wanted. I don't know what it's like to be loved. All of this is new, and I'm desperate for it. For you."

He let go, flipping over a pancake and returning his attention to cooking so that the pancakes didn't get burned. Badly. Again.

Ronan opened his month, ready to say something, when there was a knock on the door. Instantly his expression soured, "Why the hell are you so popular?"

But he knew why. The same thing had happened with Greerish. Even if Adam had threatened to sue the real estate agent if she came back Ronan was willing to bet she'd be back. If not her? Her husband. If not them? It could be the neighborhood teens that bet on staying in the house for five minutes as a fear game.

"I try to avoid people seeing me," he explained, "because I've been around a while. Some of the older people have seen me before. They'd be suspicious since I never age." Sure, he could look like another person, but he was never fond of doing that. It made him feel like more of a monster than he really was.

With a glance to the door he padded over to the dining room where he could change into Charlotte. While he didn't care much about changing in front of Adam anymore, he usually took his pants off first, and it probably wasn't the time for Adam to see his dick.

At the door were a couple of girls, giggling and batting their eyelashes. "We heard someone our age moved in here! Unless you're the ghost," one teased, "because then I should have visited earlier!" They laughed again.

Ronan was already nauseated, hovering around Adam's ankles.

Adam had no idea how to react to a duo of giggling girls flirting with him. The situation had never previously occurred. Blinking and blushing, he leaned against the door frame and gave them a polite smile. "Yeah, my boyfriend and I just moved in."

"Oh!" One of the girls blushed and went went wide-eyed, while her friend giggled. "Oh. All the good ones, huh?"

Adam shrugged one shoulder and gave her a thin smile.

"Is your boyfriend cute?" the giggling one asked. Her friend elbowed her.

"I mean," Adam said, "he's really handsome, but he scowls all the time. So it depends on whether you find grumpy scowling to be cute, like I do."

They laughed at that, though this time it sounded a little forced.

"We were just about to have breakfast," Adam said, hoping it would encourage them to leave.

"Oh! Can we come in? You don't have to feed us, but we've just always wanted to see the old house. Is it haunted?"

"Sorry, but," Adam said, picking up the cat and kissing the top of his head. "My boyfriend hasn't got a stitch of clothing on at the moment, and while the sight is very impressive, it's my sight, and I'm very possessive."

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