sinbound. [Akira & Earinor] [ENG]

"Don't get me wrong, I would love to", and that was the undeniable truth. Ronan of Alster wanted nothing more than to spend time with his boyfriend, stay with him and make him feel better about his current predicament - but he also knew that he barely could. Instead, he'd have to leave again sometime soon and then, when all that was said and done, he could no longer stick around because he still had more stacks of papers to take care of, overfilling that desk of his ... and that meant, he'd be occupied. "I can chalk up sleeping with you once as an incident because I got tired, but I'd rather save that for when you're feeling better as to not accidentally hurt you. If I don't sleep in my room for days on end, my father will grow suspicious", plus, the doctor had a habit of being nosy and finding out whatever he wanted to find out if one let him. Ronan could stay here, for the time being but as much as he wanted to stay the night, he knew it was an impossible and even futile task to even consider. "I'll be there whenever you need me, just not tonight", if he got Caelan to sleep before he left, all of this would be half as bad, wouldn't? "I'd rather stay here with you and watch over you, though, you know?"

"So no getting up for a well deserved bath and no time away from me?", Ronan asked, a smile already forming on those pale lips of his. Whatever he had taken yesterday, it had knocked him out soon enough and now he was just glad that he had gotten some time to sleep, even if only a bit. Theoretically, it was ridiculous for him to even consider that he was getting sick, or that the medicine was hurting either of them, but ... who could tell? In the end, nobody knew. "I'll wash you, then", he concluded, knowing that he'd have to ask a servant for everything he needed - but first he had to get his boyfriend to drink something, the rest came after that, wouldn't it? Well, whatever - he'd figure that out, too. "I'll get you a glass then, you should have a water pitcher here somewhere and it should be filled up, I told them to at least", he sighed and hoped that they had actually listened to him and done what he'd wanted and not just whatever they thought was right. "If I could I'd do so much more with you than kiss you, I don't even care", he mumbled and leaned into Caelans touch before he tensed up, as the blonde touched one of his hurt, sensitive spots. "I'll get you some lukewarm water then and I'll try to scrub you clean, as best as I can, at least in your bed. How's that sound?", he asked, finally letting go of Caelan, getting the blonde a glass of water - the pitcher was full - and then placing another kiss on his cheek. "Can I go ask them now or should I say?"

Maybe this had been the wrong answer, it certainly didn't seem to please his boyfriend, but Ronan could be wrong - after all, Caelan wasn't good at showing expressions right now and the truth was that they both were too stuck up on the little things sometimes. It was almost laughable to even consider that Caelan could be mad at him because he couldn't sleep in his bad, no? "Your good side? And what if I decide that the entirety of your chest is more comfortable and I wake up ontop of you?", Ronan tried arguing, even though he pretty much knew that something like that was unlikely to happen. Why would he even try anyway? What kind of semblance was there and why was he trying to make something incredibly insane sound as normal as possible? He probably had lost his mind along the way. "Sometimes, I mean, I could try locking it and taking the key with me, but if I do, I have no idea if he'll just bruteforce his way in if he really needs something or thinks he does." Darragh of Alster was a scary man and nobody could deny that, especially not his very own son that - for a fact - knew how much of a bastard his father could be. "Is it really fine?", he asked, without thinking - did Caelans expression just sour or was that just him, thinking about stupid things?

Somehow, something felt off, but Ronan tried to brush that off as well - it probably was just a coincidence, he most likely was imagining things and his restless mind didn't help, especially not when he was still worried sick about his boyfriend and wanted nothing more than to have him get better. "I'll go get you something to wash up, then", he said, fully aware that Caelan would - probably - do better if he let someone else, anyone really, do what he wanted to do. That was, he at least wouldn't move as much as one would expect of someone like him and he'd also not accidentally hurt himself by trying to do dumb shit. Now, however, Caelan seemed sleepy enough to drift off without even giving the quick wash a second thought - and somehow, it upset Ronan, who could only sigh in retaliation. "I could, but weren't you the one that insisted I wash you?", Ronan grumbled, crossing his arms and looking at the blonde. Two could play this game and if Caelan was giving him a hard time, he could do the same. "Then I'll let some of my servants clean you up and I'll tell them you like it rough, blegh." Now, he was acting like a child, showing his tongue to Caelan while he stood next to the bed. "Do you need anything else, oh great Caelan of Fhaergus?"

What did Caelan even want? Certainly not that? "Sounds compelling, if I'm honest", he crooned, almost happy about the proposal - but he still couldn't really sleep in this room with Caelan, still couldn't share a bed and still couldn't spend time with his boyfriend, could he now? What was his father going to think of him? That he just wanted some more excuses to not do his work and enjoy some stupid alone time? Well, Ronan could bring his work here, too - and that, in turn, gave him quite the idea. "No, but he'll knock until I wake up and if I don't he'll either think I killed myself or I ran off, whatever you prefer." That wouldn't necessarily be the first time that good old Darragh would see the mess he made of his sheets, the blood dripping from his wrists and all of the things he had left to say to Ronan were the voicing of his disappointment and the fact that he'd rather have him die like a noble, not a sad sap. "Are you sure?", he asked, not wanting to influence Caelan's decision, but something seemed amiss. Ronan knew that maybe, just maybe, he should indulge in whatever the blonde wanted from him, as some sort of making it up to him - after all, there only was a slim chance that the wound wouldn't leave an ugly scar and there, most likely, were enough bachelorettes who were turned off by that sort of thing.

"I'll wash you, still - if you want me to or not", Ronan sighed. This wasn't going to end well if he kept teasing Caelan and maybe he'd just read the mood the wrong way, but whatever it was, he'd felt like he needed to be just a little bit mean to the blonde. Now, however, he needed to go get a bowl of water, a sponge, some towels and maybe something stupid to cheer Caelan up, how was that? "They can ask me and question me as much as they want, if I tell them I can handle myself, they won't help me. I personally don't care of my father catches wind of it, I just want to make sure you feel better", and if he did, maybe Ronan would feel less bad about what he'd just done. Could he really convince any of the servants to let him do his thing, though? Somehow, he doubted they'd agree and that was his biggest problem right now, nothing else. "I'm not making fun of you", he grumbled, then pressed the backside of his hand against Caelans forehead. "I wanted to cheer you up, but I guess that backfired. Should I get you a cold cloth while I'm getting all the other stuff?", he asked, almost sheepishly. If Caelan wanted to sleep, he should - Ronan would be around and he'd drag his paperwork to this room, his father be damned. "If not, I'll leave now and go get it - and you rest up."

"Caelan, I don't care if you reek or if you live in a swamp, I'll come close to you when I want to", he chuckled. Why was the blonde so worried about stupid shit like that all of a sudden? None of it made sense and Ronan wondered why that was. Maybe Caelan actually, truly and surely felt like he was a disgusting beast that had crawled out of hell and now someone like Ronan wasn't supposed to touch him? What was the blonde even thinking about. "The part? Caelan, I don't know what's going on in that head of yours but I don't care how you look. For all I care, you could be missing an arm or an eye, I wouldn't mind. Hell, even if you were a slimy swamp monster, I wouldn't care - you're just fine the way you are." Was he trying to give a pep talk to someone like Caelan? What was more bewildering about this situation - the fact that Caelan needed a pep talk or the fact that he was able to provide his boyfriend with one? "Fine, I'll bring all of my documents here and work on them at the desk over there", he pointed at one, actually quite close to the blondes bed. "And if my father show up, I'll come up with a suitable excuse. When I'm done with my work, you better have some space left in your bed or I'll tickle you, alright?" Would tickling even work? Was Caelan even ticklish or supposed to laugh like this?

Then, the blonde seemed to have fallen into a hole of depression he couldn't get out of - somehow, Ronan pitied him, simply for the fact that something like that didn't suit him, it never sould, not someone like Caelan that usually was cheerful and happy and could run his mouth for hours on end, saying the most endearing but stupid stuff. "Caelan, it's alright if you're weak and it's alright if you feel sick. I sliced open your goddamn face, I don't expect you to be strong and tell me that everything is alright - that should be my job." And up until now, he'd done an incredibly shitty job at it, hadn't he? All the while trying to cheer up his boyfriend, he'd already hurt him again. "So a bowl of water, two wet cloths, two towels ... and an open window. Anything else you need? Do you want to drink some more?", he asked, removing his head and already bringing the pitcher over to Caelans bed, refilling the glass from earlier and leaving it there - he'd hand it to him if he needed to. "I'll come right back, not to worry. No detours and no derailing." After that, Ronan opened the window, left it like that and wondered if he should fumble with the blinds. Then, he already went to the door - he had to get all the stuff after all. "Rest, alright?", he just said before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him. It wasn't exactly an easy task of getting all the stuff he'd promised Caelan, but he did so regardless - and somehow even found room for a stack of papers, held tight by his upper arm and pressed against his torso. Ronan made his way back to the room, maybe half an hour later, awkwardly stumbling into it and setting everything aside on the desk so he could get rid of the papers, before walking back to Caelan with the bowl, the cloths and the towels. "How do you feel? Did I let you wait? I'm sorry."

Tinkering with someone like Caelan, a person so feeble and unbothered by the many things he was tasked with, Ronan wondered what it would take to send him flying over the edge, to break the blonde and shatter him to pieces and maybe it would be a few words, leisurely dancing over those lips of his and eventually they'd hit Caelan in the heart, like a well aimed thrust of his sword and there would be blood, gushing out of his chest, as black as tar, seeping into his very being until he realized what he'd done. "Like forever, you say?", he said, walking over to the window once he'd gently placed the bowl on the other nighstand. Ronan closed it - they could open it again at a later date - or as soon as Caelan felt like he needed another breath of fresh air wafting in. For now, they'd do well to actually use the lukewarm water he'd brought. "Can you sit up?", he asked, before realizing Caelan had prodded himself up already and was trying his best to sit there, somehow, even if it pained him and his head was feeling heavy. For some reason, Ronan admired him. "A little bit more than that, I don't want to get your sheets wet." Should he say something else? Of course he was concerned for his boyfriend and the blondes wellbeing, and he'd have to rub him clean with a soapy, wet sponge but ... at least he'd smell nice after this.

"I'm sorry for letting you wait, but I hope you at least got a bit of sleep, even if it's just a teensy pinch." Ronan was driving himself insane by doing all of this and probably bothering Caelan - he was losing his own mind in the worst possible way and he knew that, he knew as much because there was nothing more for him to do than that. "Also, about earlier. You're still handsome, even with a scar on your face. I like you as a person, and even though I find you handsome and hot, I'm not some scaredy cat that will run away because my boyfriend has a goddamn scar in his face. I like your scars, they make you who you are", and in the end, they'd probably remind him how fragile someone like the blonde could be, too - just like he was. Was there even an excuse for him to not be that? All of them could break, could shatter and all of them were mortal, it didn't matter where they came from, what their heritage was - they all were judged equally. "I brought my paperwork and once I'm done, I'll get some more so I can at least have a good excuse to have fallen asleep in this room with you, how's that sound?", he chuckled, before he helped Caelan get out of that shirt of his - what else was he to do? "I hope you like lavender."

Caelan was, undoubtedly his and therefore, the blonde would absolutely be not going anywhere - or at least that was, what Ronan theorized would be happening. Truth be told, he knew that at some point, as soon as the blonde felt better and could move again, he'd probably and actually get a move on and try his best to get away from him, simply for the fact that they both would be glued to one another in such a short span of time, it would make breathing incredibly difficult. "You know, I feel like I worried a bit too much about you, but on the other hand, you seem like you're really struggling and I feel so bad even just thinking about how I've hurt you", he sighed, then grabbed the goddamn sponge and squeezed some of the overflowing water out of it. "I most certainly won't torture you, please don't worry." This was Ronans responsibility and truth be told, he was - as one might guess - not exactly thrilled about the fact that he had to deal with this in the first place. It wasn't because he hated Caelan, nor was it about the fact that he had nothing to go about, it rather was that his friend - the blonde he admired so damn much - looked so weak, so sickly and easy to break all of a sudden. "Don't, you'll acquire a taste for it on accident, trust me."

Who wanted to get used to pain? Caelan seemingly did and somehow, it made Ronan feel exceptionally bad, if not hurt, that the blonde would even consider something as stupid - the two of them weren't exactly carved from the same wood, but Ronan knew what it felt like to accept pain, to accept ones own failure. "So you want me to pass out with you? Sounds thrilling, I'll try it once you're all nice and clean, how about that?", he asked, a sheepish smile on his face as he cast aside not only Caelans shirt but also the blanket and carefully started rubbing him from the neck down, over to his chest and stomach, seemingly so careful that he couldn't possibly injure his boyfriend. "That's kind of sad, but maybe the scent will linger! We'll see - is there anything else bothering you about your current ... predicament?", he asked, smile creeping onto his lips once more as he continued his task, as softly as he could - well, until it came to the blondes back that probably also needed a good scrubbing if he wanted to make his torso feel ... better, cleaner. "Can you turn over? Also ... don't touch your face, even if it's bandaged, give it some rest, it's probably swollen and pulsing and hurting because it's trying to heal."

"Don't overdo it, you hear me?", Ronan scoffed again, very much aware of the fact that Caelan could do whatever he wanted as long as he played his cards right and that, the longer he thought about it, he couldn't stop someone like him from doing something incredibly stupid that might as well cost him an arm or a leg. "I'll take your word for it and if not, I'll whip you back into shape, you hear me?" There was no chance he could actually raise a weapon against Caelan again, there was not a single damn second he'd think about whiping someone like him and for a moment, he had to swallow the knot that was rising in the back of his throat, reconsider those jumbled thoughts of his and he asked himself if he, really and truly, had a grasp on all the things he wanted. "It's alright, like I said. I will whip you back into shape, even verbally, so if you decide you're going to be mean to me, well ... two can play that game, you know?" There was quite the gleeful smile on Ronans face and he had to think about it for a second, but ... that was just stupid, wasn't it? He was here to scrub his boyfriend clean, not to turn his back into a bloody, marred nightmare of a thing that he barely could make out to be what it was. Oh, how much did he actually hate existing for once? "And I'm glad that you're glad - does that sound weird?"

There was a long way they had to go, there was no denying it and Ronan felt stupid for not even considering all of the factors that could go wrong, but ... in the end, this had happened and now he was carefully cleaning up his boyfriend, simply because he wanted to be close to him and because he felt like he owed him one, even though he could have locked the door when he'd come in here, no? "I know, I just want you to feel comfortable and if I use too much water, it's going to seep into your sheets and you have nowhere to lie down, so ... bear with me please?", he asked, his voice sounding he like he was trying to apologize to the blonde in the same sentence, but he simply wasn't sure. Ronan knew much, or well, he thought he did - but in the end, coming up with more than one solution also wasn't exactly what he had in mind. "That sounds awful, I'm so sorry Caelan, I really should have watched my aim", he mumbled, bewildered by what he had just been told. "Just don't talk too much, or don't force yourself when it hurts too much, okay?" What was he, a worryward or actually this guys boyfriend? Well, Ronan had no idea at this point, making quick work of Caelans back once he'd soaked the sponge again. Carefully, he hummed to keep the blonde entertained, too. "That's more than enough!", he said, then rubbed his back dry with one of the towels and sat both sponge and towel aside, letting Caelan sink back into his original position for more comfort. Ronan took one of the cloths and ended up dipping it into water, just slightly, before he started to wash the blood out of Caelans hair. "Do you want me to get you a hand mirror? I'm sure there's one here."

"Sometimes I have to be mean to you, or am I not allowed to?", Ronan asked, an angelic smile spreading on those lips of his. Theoretically, this was nothing that he didn't already know - of course he couldn't just mistreat Caelan, he'd never dare to. Rather, he'd make it up to him that he found himself stuck here, in this hell, all the while he wondered what it was that kept him stuck on the floor and unable to move on from all the things that he ever had considered. "It's not?", Ronan asked, like he was a child who's face definitely was about to light up soon. There wasn't much to go on about, the tangent he had in mind was no longer important and instead he wondered if he would soon find himself glued to Caelans side, in the same bed, tired and exhausted and resting from all the things he had gone through earlier, from the fact that he was still worrying about the blonde despite him being here, right next to him and then he wondered, once more, if this was truly and surely what he wanted. "Too considerate? I sliced your face open, I don't think I can be too considerate, maybe just ... a little bit too friendly, you know? But I like doing this, so don't worry about it and let me, will you?" Was this going to get more difficult? Well, was there ever any doubt about it?

"Don't be silly! I want to take care of you so I am, there's nothing to even be remotely sorry about!" Was this conversation going anywhere or were they just trying to come up with something that - somehow - would help them not only understand one another better but also help with the general sentiment of feeling lost and hopeless? "You know, if you ... like, want to touch me or my legs some more, I don't mind", this was all fun and games, consensual and loving and there was no need to let it become anything else but friendly for both of them, even now while he was washing Caelans hair with soapy water. Though, Ronan knew that he, kind of at least, craved his boyfriends touch, at least a hug would be nice. "It's fine, don't worry. This is somehow similar to the bathtub situation, maybe we shouldn't fight each other, we're going to worry too much and one of these days I might puncture something I'd rather not", therefore, Ronan would stop fighting and leave all of this stuff to his boyfriend. To Caelan, who seemed like he'd been born to fight, to be a proud knight and not forced into the role of a noble. "It's probably going to look all swollen and bruised under there, I'm sure the skin around the spot is all black and blue. You also shouldn't take off the bandages, so ... let it rest, but I can give you the mirror if you want to see your bandaged face", that was one of many options, was it not? "What I ...? Oh, you mean that! It's, well, my mother used to hum it when I was younger and she wanted me to relax. I have no idea what it is, or if it's actually a song, I just know the melody and it goes like ..." And thus, Ronan continued humming while washing the rest of Caelans blood out of his hair - wasn't this cheesy?

In reality, they both were on opposite sides of a close-knit spectrum and Ronan knew as much. Truth be told, he never had anticipated much of anything, or even considered that he'd have to deal with his boyfriend in such a way, but in the end it had been him who had forced Caelan in the position he found himself in and whatever he'd do, it wouldn't help his wound heal anytime soon. Instead, all he could do was watch and keep an eye on the blonde, on someone so much stronger than him, that had been felled and brought to his knees by a single strike - it felt odd, no? Ronan always had thought he couldn't even hurt a fly, that he was incapable of doing even the smallest of things, but now he found himself in quite the pinch, crushed between the weight of his own words and his sorrow, the pain he felt upon reminding himself that it had been him who had hurt his boyfriend and injured him, to the point where he had to stay in bed, was unable to move from the spot and might as well just have been akin to a corpse. It must have felt awful to drift in and out of sleep, to be blessed by nothing but a headache all day long - and Ronan was stuck wondering if Caelan felt alright to be in a miserable state like that.

"You do?", he sounded almost exhilarated once all those words fell from his lips - truth be told, he was, but he was happy to wake up and just be around his boyfriend, too. Did he need anything else? Hardly. Ronan cuddled up to Caelan, who still felt warm and somewhat soft, his entire presence was welcoming. "If I was told I couldn't, I would have just snuck back in", he explained and he meant it. In the end, he was just making sure Caelan was alright, was asleep and not doing anything stupid, or getting high on the medication he'd been given - and like this, he could concentrate - in the web of lies he'd spun that allowed him to be around his beloved. "I told them I wanted to keep you from doing stupid things and the doctor told me it was fine, as long as I'd get up to unlock the door ... and it saves us the trouble of having to be wary of our distance to one another", he chuckled and was right about it. Ronan of Alster knew a few things, not many but enought to safely say what was fine in this house and what wasn't, but of all things, coming up with a solution like this was, well, generally not accepted. "What do you want to eat? Still some soup? Or porridge? Or do you want to try eating some softboiled eggs with ham?", he asked, drawing soft circles into Caelans pale chest, wanting to leave a trail behind but in the end, Ronan wouldn't dare mark this body more than he already had anyway. "I doubt he would, but there's always the option of marrying me, you know? Well, I wish it was", he giggled.