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

Adam nodded, nervous but loyal. He gave Ronan's hand a squeeze, heading upstairs with him. He assumed that they'd be heading to his bedroom again, not expecting Ronan to offer any more of his secrets than the ones he'd promised.

He felt achingly inadequate, but Ronan was right--it was clear that Ronan didn't belong in the world Adam had known. It was just possible that they could belong together. Here. In their home.

Grip tight on Ronan's hand, Adam followed after him, still quiet with nerves.

Ronan was equally nervous, though he tried very hard not to show it. Expression flat, wordlessly, he lead the way upstairs. Adam wanted to see him. It was terrifying. The only ones who had truly seen him had been his parents, and they were long dead. Showing his true form was like showing his heart, bare, ripe for the crushing.

At first he had thought he was going to take Adam to his room. Yet despite his plans he found himself leading his boyfriend up the stairs to the attic room, where he kept his most private things. A matter of both habit and comfort. If he was going to bare himself, there was only one place he wouldn't be totally on edge doing so. Every other place felt too open.

The door to the attic room opened without so much as a sound. Without looking back, he lead Adam inside, and closed the door behind him. This would be too troublesome with Chainsaw around.

The attic was as wide as the entire house and crammed with things. Odd things. Impossible things. Broken things and fixed things. In the corner of the room there was bedding, more like a thick nest made out of blankets than an actual bed, covered in pillows and some discarded clothing. Parts of the floor were stained brown—old blood—yet otherwise clean. It had soaked into the wood and left its mark that way.

And there were things draped across the lamp, chairs, books left tossed in the other corners of the room. Above his nest of blankets were purple rosary beads, pinned carefully into the wall.

He didn't apologize for the mess. Merely thumped into the room and kicked aside a few things that would be in Adam's way—and then stripped, leaving him completely naked in front of Adam. There was no point in wearing pants when he was going to shift; he'd just ruin them. Even if he was keenly aware that he was naked in front of his boyfriend.

The room was very Ronan. Careless, messy, and achingly lonely, full of raw, sharp-edged secrets. Adam stayed near the stairs, feeling like an intruder. He wasn't sure where to stand, and there wasn't really anywhere for him to sit.

And then Ronan started stripping.

Adam watched, lips parted with awe and embarrassment. He'd seen naked men before. He'd never been invited to watch like this. He'd told the girls earlier that this sight was for his eyes only, but he didn't really believe it.

Swallowing hard with lust, Adam tried not to stare, but he was having a hard time looking anywhere other than the dark trail of hair leading down from Ronan's navel. It didn't feel like there was anywhere safe to look, not when every muscle in Ronan's body made him want.

Words were inadequate. Adam stayed quiet. This moment was sacred. Ronan was trusting him with a gift that he'd given to no one else.

Ronan's eyes flicked up to Adam's face once his pants had been shed, trying to judge if Adam liked what he saw. Even if he had promised to show Adam his true shape, even sharing his naked body in this way was very, very intimate. He considered this form almost as true as his natural one; he spent so much time in it, and it was the one he felt most comfortable.

Stepping closer to his bed and the window beside it, he closed the blinds, leaving the room dim. There was enough light to see, yet it wasn't so oppressive. It made Ronan feel better.

Then, standing beside the bed, he held a hand out to Adam, palm up.

"Come here?"

He wanted Adam's touch as reassurance. And, more than that, he... wanted to touch Adam.

Adam went, unable to resist him. The moment felt incredibly intimate, more than anything he'd ever felt before, and Adam wanted to be close to him, to be touched.

He took Ronan's hand, winding their fingers together and stepping close. He laid one hand on Ronan's bare chest, fingers brushing idly over the warm skin. "You're breathtaking," Adam said, embarrassed by his own words and emotions. He bent his head, pressing a soft kiss to Ronan's collarbone.

Ronan's cheeks and throat colored a shade of pink, but he didn't shy away from Adam's touch. In his chest his heart was stopping and starting in his chest, over and over, an engine roaring to life. He wanted Adam. Jesus, God, he wanted him.

Fingers ghosting along the other boy's shoulder and up, Ronan settled on cupping his fingers along Adam's jawline to lift his chin. Tilting his head in turn, Ronan pressed his lips against Adam's. Opening his mouth, he kissed with all the heat that was boiling under his skin. All the want and desire he had pent up because he was no longer afraid of breaking his shape. It was what Adam was here to see.

Rolling his tongue and moving his lips, he melted into the kiss as he held Adam close. Once the kiss was close to breaking he rolled into the next, meeting their mouths again.

Adam moaned as Ronan kissed him, because he hadn't expected it to be like this. It made perfect sense, and it helped to melt away the nerves between them, because if Ronan was going to show him, it meant Ronan could stop holding back each time they kissed.

Pressing close, Adam wiggled out of his shirt, breaking the kiss for only a moment so he could get it off. It was better that way, skin on skin, not so blatantly obvious that Adam was fully dressed and Ronan was nude. He slid his free hand around Ronan's neck, holding him close as they kissed. He held nothing back, wanting to give all of himself, wanting to be claimed and possessed, and to claim and possess in turn. "Ronan," he murmured between kisses, drunk on pleasure and greedy for him.

Ronan's breath hitched when Adam pulled off his shirt. Jesus Christ, he was beautiful. Skin touching skin, bodies pressed together—Ronan was dizzy on it all. Fuck, Adam was sexy. His hand went from Adam's jaw to wrapping around his body so that they were flush against one another.

Like every time before, the more aroused he got, the more his form began to break. This time, he wasn't desperately trying to hold it together, either. Nails became sharper as he gently curled his fingers against Adam's back, not wanting to pinch him. His cock throbbed between them. The soft, short feathers began to ripple up his forearms and longer, glossier feathers smoothed out against his throat and hairline. Eyelashes lengthening slightly and curling against his cheeks, face framing with short feathers bleeding into long, velvety ones.

In his chest, his heart was racing. His nerves were intense despite trying so very hard to ignore them. Moaning into Adam's mouth, he clutched desperately to the other boy as he changed. Dropping the form Adam liked so well.

His wings melted free from the back ink of his tattoo, folding around the both of them like an angel's. A fallen angel, for no angel in heaven had wings of black ink. His size was roughly the same, and his face retained most of his human features, but it was clear that he wasn't human from everything else. Breaking the kiss, he stepped back, sliding away from Adam to let him see. His face lacked any expression at all as he waited for rejection.

In his opinion, he was horrendous. Not the lithe, handsome beauty of a human. Darker, feathered, with angled features and bright, bright blue eyes. What did it matter if his feathers were smooth and glossy? Maybe if he wasn't the only one of his kind he'd be considered beautiful—but to a human? He was a nightmare.

Adam didn't let go, stepping forward when Ronan stepped back.

He'd felt the feathers along his skin, the claws against his back, but neither was a surprise this time. Arm still hooked around Ronan's neck, Adam met his eyes, lips parting and eyes widening as he saw the wings.

His breath caught, leaning in to give Ronan another kiss to reassure him before he really let himself inspect, hands starting to roam over Ronan's chest and shoulders, studying the places where feathers bared into skin and where the smooth black feathers layered over his arms. "You're magic," Adam said, because he didn't think Ronan was ready to hear the first thought through his head. You're beautiful.

"Is this the full transformation?" Adam asked, carefully reaching over Ronan's shoulder to trace a fingertip along the crest of his wing.

It felt like his heart might explode, it was racing so fast. His nerves were like static electricity, shooting through his whole body as Adam's hands roamed parts of his body. When he finally spoke, Ronan bowed his head, looking at the floor. Magic. Yeah, he was magic, and he so desperately wanted to not be.

"I—haah..!"

He shivered when Adam traced along his wing, gasping, because he was still very turned on and his wings were quite sensitive. Blushing furiously, he glanced away again, staring at the wall with a fierceness that could melt paint.

"Fuck. Sorry. I'm... sensitive. There." God, he was embarrassed. Adam had barely even touched, holy fuck.

"It's... yeah. This." Ronan bit his lip as he flexed his talons.

Awed, Adam watched his face with a smile, staying close to him even though he was careful not to touch more. "You're not a monster, Greywaren," he murmured, resting his head on Ronan's shoulder and hugging close to him. "You can relax now."

Bumping his nose against the underside of Ronan's jaw, he smiled. "Or don't relax. I can think of a few things I'm feeling pretty eager to do with my boyfriend that don't involve relaxing."

Ronan stiffened when Adam hugged close, still feeling nervous, anxious about the whole ordeal. You're not a monster, Greywaren. The words echoed, to Ronan, and for a good moment he was speechless. Was Adam blind? Did he not see that Ronan was basically a giant fucking bird? With sharp claws? Covered in feathers? Disgusting?

He made a soft noise. He wasn't sure if he felt relief or disbelief.

"You want to—?" Cheeks still burning red, he bowed his head again, gingerly wrapping his arms around Adam. "You don't have to force yourself."

"Do I look like I'm forcing myself?" Adam flirted, lifting his head so that he could kiss Ronan again, warm with affection and longing. He gave Ronan a smile as the kiss broke, watching his eyes for a moment. "I saw the tattoo, Ronan. The feathers and the hint of claws you showed earlier. It wasn't hard to make the connection that your gorgeous tattoo might have particular significance."

Tracing his fingertips along the crest of Ronan's brow, Adam smiled. "You're incredible. You're mine. I'm falling in love with you."

Clever little shit. Yet it made Ronan love him all the more.

Closing his eyes, Ronan leaned into Adam's touch. God, he wanted to be Adam's. Thoroughly. There was no one else. When Adam said the word love, Ronan's eyes popped open and he leaned back to stare at Adam. Studying his face, trying to judge if that was true. It was hard to not get choked up and he failed keeping himself from it; his throat felt thick and his eyes stung. Love. The fuck was that? He hadn't felt love in... probably close to 100 years.

"I feel like I've loved you forever," he admitted, still feeling shy but wanting to tell Adam the truth.

"You'd be the first," Adam murmured, pressing his head against Ronan's and closing his eyes. He knew Gansey loved him as a friend, even though they fought half the time. It wasn't the same. Adam wanted someone to love him first, most, forever. He wanted Ronan.

Stepping back once he was sure Ronan understood his affection, Adam let his eyes roam more freely. "Must be hell putting on clothes in that form," he teased, expecting that Ronan simply didn't bother. "Will you turn? I want to see."

Ronan couldn't understand how, considering Adam was so fucking lovable. Precious. Not perfect, and every little flaw, Ronan liked. His stubborn asshole.

Somehow he managed to relax. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. He hadn't ended up dumped. It made him more willing to show Adam other things, so he nodded, "Sure." The way he changed, it was like the wings folded back and melted into his skin, becoming the tattoo so smooth across his shoulder blades. His nails shortened and some of the feathers flaked off while others slunk back until he was back to being human, naked as he had been before.

"Before Greerish showed up, I didn't bother with clothes at all." He shrugged. "He said it was a good idea for me to wear pants in polite company."

"Oh," Adam said, as he transformed. The moment's disappointment was clear on his face until he realized his own mistake and blushed, feeling stupid. "Oh." Adam mussed his own hair, smirking a little at his own error. "I meant turn around. I was not at all clear."

Reaching for Ronan, Adam pulled him into another kiss, deep and heated, moaning softly into Ronan's mouth. "Fuck, you're hot," he mumbled, biting at Ronan's lips.

Ronan blinked in surprise, and then laughed. It was a loud sound, echoing off the walls of the attic. "Shit! I always call it turning, so I didn't think...." And then he blushed, at the thought of Adam studying his body that closely.

It was all forgotten when Adam reached for him. He responded eagerly, no longer afraid of letting his guard slip and dropping his form. Grabbing Adam tight around the waist, Ronan leaned back, tugging the other boy on top of him as his back hit the pillows. It was fluid, how he slid into feathers and claws again, raking the points of his nails gently along the dip of Adam's back.

"Funny," he breathed, "I was just gonna say the same thing." Cock half-hard between his legs, he swallowed, looking up at Adam. A few feathers had broken out along his hairline again.

"You're so... sexy, holy shit."

Adam grinned happily, straddling Ronan's thighs as they landed. He moaned at the feeling of Ronan's claws against his back, making him shiver and whine in Ronan's arms.

Nuzzling affectionately at Ronan's cheekbone, Adam let his hands roam, greedy for everything he could get. "Do your wings get squished if they come out while you're on your back? Can you really fly?"

Leaving no opportunity for Ronan to answer, he latched onto Ronan's earlobe, sucking on it with a needy little whine. He was overwhelmed with want, impatient to do everything at once.

"Th... hah... how am I supposed to answer when you're... doing that?" he breathed, pushing his hips up against Adam as he arched his back. Fuck, it was good. Since Adam seemed to like it, he continued to gingerly rake his nails along his back, grazing and tracing.

Swallowing, Ronan tried to focus on his questions. "N... no. And yes." As if to prove the former, his wings unfurled from his back, spread wide beneath them to accommodate their position.

Breath hitching, he turned his head and greedily bit Adam's shoulder. Sucking, marking him with a possessive, red mark.

"Fuck," Adam breathed, turning his head to admire the wings and then immediately getting distracted by Ronan sucking on his shoulder. He keened with desire, grinding his hips down against Ronan and shuddering repeatedly as Ronan sucked on him, claiming him. "Ronan," he panted, cock aching inside his jeans.

Squirming and batting at Ronan to get him to let up for a moment, Adam fumbled with the clasp on his jeans, getting up so that he could shimmy out of them and then sliding naked back into Ronan's lap for more kisses.

He made a frustrated noise when Adam bat him away, but before he could complain he saw what he was doing. And stared, face on fire once more. Fuck. Holy shit. Fuck. Sweating, he watched Adam slide out of his jeans. Ronan's gaze instantly dropped to the trail of dark hair that lead to... shit. Fuck. Shifting, Ronan swallowed thickly, cock throbbing intensely in response to seeing Adam in full.

And then he gasped when he felt Adam against him. "Fuck," he gasped, "fuck, you're so hot. Fuck." Fully turned once more, he raked his nails across Adam's ribs a little less gently. Not enough to hurt but enough to leave light, red streaks behind on his lovely skin. Opening his mouth, Ronan welcomed more kisses. Heated, needy, as he reclined back onto the pillows.

"Adam," he breathed, moaned between kisses, "Adam." His wings curled around them, stretching out, which made the tips of glossy raven feathers brush against Adam's arms and shoulders.

Bracing his elbows on either side of Ronan's head, Adam keened at each touch, each kiss, nails and wings teasing at him, making him feel overwhelmed with pleasure. "Ronan," he replied, grinding their hips together and then reaching down so that he could grab them both, squeezing their lengths together with a needy whine.

Everything felt unbelievably intense, and Adam's head was spinning. Nothing mattered but Ronan.

"I want everything," Adam panted, nuzzling distractedly at him. "I have no idea what I like. I want to try everything."

Having their bodies rut against one another was overwhelming—Ronan felt that his heart might burst, for real. It was racing so quickly that it almost hurt. And when Adam grabbed his erection he grunted, gasped, eyelids fluttering and back arching sharply again.

"I don't know either," he managed to say, voice thick, words difficult to form. "I've never—not with anyone." Of course not. It was obvious, wasn't it? The most he'd ever come close to as far as sex was masturbating, and even that tended to be far in between. Kissing felt so fantastic that he could have lived off of that alone. Sex? It was almost impossible to comprehend that he might actually have it. Or anything close.

"I don't know where to start." An honest admittance, even if it was a little embarrassing. He had no idea where to even begin.

Tugging, he pulled Adam's mouth to his again, wanting a kiss.

"We can," Adam started to say, and then was distracted by the kiss. Moaning into Ronan's mouth, he writhed against him, trying to get as close as possible, wanting more and more.

He wasn't embarrassed or dissuaded in the least by Ronan's confession. It had been mostly obvious, and Adam had tried to express that he was in the same boat. He hadn't even kissed Blue, and there hadn't been anyone else.

Only Ronan. They could learn together. Adam was pretty sure they should just stay right here in bed until they'd tried everything. Or until they got too hungry to continue.

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