sinbound. [Akira & Earinor] [ENG]

"Three months is still one fourth of a year ... and I'm pretty sure I won't always have that much luck!" If he intended to live longer than up to the age of twenty, there were years that he was bound to be unlucky, years where he wouldn't see Caelan for half a year and what would he do when he did? Just swallow all of the things down, everything that was thrown at him and spend the remainder of the winter counting the days until the snow started melting and he was able to crawl all the way to Fhaergus? "Your father? I don't want your father to love me, I want you to love me - I don't care about anything else", while this was a lie, at least the last part of it, Ronan was still glad that his boyfriend was there with him, still glad that he had someone to cherish, to love, to spend time with. In the end, all of these fleeting moments would be mere memories, not all of them as well remembered as others, but what counted was that they both lived, here and now. "Back home? Pff, Caelan, if it's done I might as well try it on, no? Though, I might need a little help from you, if you're okay with that." What were they? A couple, about to get married, forced to arrange everything on their own?

"Mad? Have you lost your mind?", he burst out laughing. He wasn't mad, just a bit bummed out and annoyed, that had been all - what else was there to it anyway? "Take your time Caelan, no need to rush - after all, I know you'll come back to me like you've never done to any of those girls, did you now?" Sometimes, he caught up on gossip and while they had declared his boyfriend a whore, a lot of drunk nobles talked a lot of stupid things, like, Caelan of Fhaergus not settling for one girl, but really, did he have to? "I hope you won't or I'll have to stuff your mouth", he answered, unbuttoning the rest of the blondes shirt - Caelan was already tugging at his pants, stopped halfway and Ronan immediately knew why. "I'm still daring you, don't worry!" Any patch of skin that his boyfriend touched, whether it was with the tip of his fingers or his lips, immediately tingled, felt as if it was set aflame just by that and eventually, this wouldn't lead to anything ... decent. "Do you need help with my boots?", he suddenly murmured, focusing at the task onhand as if he wanted to take his mind off of things. "Maybe it was, you decide", he giggled.

"It sounds really long because it is!", Ronan complained, knowing fully well that he was not doing Caelan or him a favor. Sure, they could spend most of the year together, but being unable to celebrate Caelans birthday with him or be close to him during any of these months already felt like it was going to be a hurdle that he wasn't going to jump over all that easily. "You won't annoy her all that easily, trust me. Just watch your mouth before you blurt something out that could offend more than just my father." Saoirse was still the Duchess of Alster and the one that actually was part of the bloodline, as opposed to her husband who - very much - was just someone that got lucky and had been handed a title he didn't actually deserve, did he now? Whatever, judging by all those rules and stupid assumptions those nobles made, Ronan himself was not deserving of a title he was born with, destined to have, simply because the blood of a noble father was absent from his very veins. "I didn't ask for your permission, but now that you've given it to me, you can't take it back", he insisted, grinning like an idiot for just a moment. Why would he spend time with Allard to begin with? What was Caelan thinking that either of them would gain from this, except maybe understanding of one another? "I'll try it on and I'll try to keep your hands off of it - I have a feeling you won't be gentle with it", he joked, but who knew, maybe Caelan was going to tear it off of him on accident.

"I can wait, Caelan, you aren't running away from me and as long as I know that, I won't force you to rush into anything headfirst. We have plenty of time." And there was no plausible way to do it out here anyway - maybe he'd finally be able to spend a night alone in his own bed, just so that he could sift and sort through his thoughts, something that he hadn't done in a while, something he might need to do. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?", he asked, laughing about it. Who complimented something like that? Caelan of Fhaergus, as it seemed, who peeled him out of both his clothes and shoes a bit too eagerly for his own taste. Ronan didn't mind, though, wasn't going to stop Caelan, not yet. "Probably because it makes the whole thing a bit more fun for me!" Was that it? Was there nothing else that Caelan made him feel, nothing else that he thought about wanting to hear? Ronan yelped, as the blonde got rid of all of his clothes - something he didn't expect. "Fucking hell, Caelan!", he yelled as he got picked up, felt the cold air hit his skin and immediately regretted being a loudmouthed asshole without manners but way too much stupidity in that small brain of his. "You could have at least let me have my underwear, but I guess not", he grumbled, holding onto his boyfriend as if he was going to let him fall any second now, but would he even? "I can, I can! I'm not the heir of Alster for nothing!", those were his last words before he actually got thrown into the goddamn creek once they reached the bottom of the hill and gods, it was cold - but not cold enough to stop him from sending some water Caelans way, once he regained his footing. "That's what you get!"

"Did you, really?", he blurts out, unknowing if all of this was really as they wanted it or if there was a threat looming over their heads, something they hadn't thought of yet. They had one another, nothing more, in a world where they were the ones that should feel like they belonged, but at this point, he had concluded that neither of them felt really welcome here. He couldn't speak for his boyfriend, for the experiences he'd had and the ones he'd make from here on out, but they had nothing more than each other, than themselves and the realization that many more things were fucked up, not just them and not just the world around them. "I'll be glad if he does, especially if I don't have to do much to make him like me, I'm kind of terrible at that, you know?" How would Caelan, of all people, not know by now? After all, he hadn't been overly nice and open with his friends even once, couldn't fight his father head-on and then again, he found himself wishin he could, even if he knew that he couldn't, as silly as it sounded. "I know you can, I'm just being overly cautious - we can't afford to rip it." Someone would start to ask questions eventually and as long as they could avoid that, Ronan would work towards that.

"Caelan, it's fine", he insisted, knowing fully well that nothing good ever came out of rushing things - and it wouldn't if the two of them rushed any of this, either, that much was clear. What they needed was time, nothing more, and the reassurance that nothing would happen if they, for some reason, weren't ready to rush headfirst into a plethora of things. He didn't want the blonde to feel about things he did or didn't do and while it sometimes was a bit complicated, that didn't mean they shouldn't be taking care of one another. "Just the boots? Do you like them or something?", he asked, laughing away any insecurities he might have had just now - Caelan had seen him naked before, everything he had or didn't have to offer and that, for one reason or the other, felt more than reassuring. "Fair point", the young noble grumbled and as he burried his hands in the dirt and stones that made up the riverbed, he had asked himself why he had insisted to come all the way here, sink down into the cold depths of murky water, and theoretically would be in the need of another bath. "Until I get cold, that's the point", he answered in respite, before he approached the blonde and put his arms around him. "Unless you want to get out immediately."

Not only were the two of them fundamentally different, their surroundings were, as well. They both didn't exactly have everything they could ask for, but their problems were, at best, of social status and not of something else, not a fundamental issues, not like those of commoners, not like those of the ones that had no endless riches or titles to their names. Naturally, that meant that something had to become of him eventually, something had to become of Caelan and if not a worthy heir to their respective thrones, what would it be? Was there anything for them out there, something before their own demise, that would let them live for a little while longer, despite recognizing them as dead, from the inside out? "My skin is, yes, but ... the water isn't the warmest", he explained. Ronan knew that he wasn't like his boyfriend, that he wouldn't be the one to survive Fhaergus cold winters and its endless, vast mountains that no one really dared to climb on or over. In the end, all he was left with was himself, his own body and the warmth that he'd get from Caelan, if he hadn't gotten himself soaked as well. "I don't plan on doing that, don't worry", why would he, of all people, even want to risk an infection?

"You know, we shouldn't have done that when it's summer", he suddenly laughed, ruffling through blonde locks and letting his boyfriend do what he wanted to - there was no need to actually get out or deny themselves anything as long as they were alone. There were no servants that came running after them, that insisted he'd get out of the water to not risk a cold or any other sickness, but ... there was Caelan, and he needed nothing more. "You know, you look pretty good like this", Ronan exclaimed. What did that even mean? Caelan looked good when he was naked, or even wet? Or something entirely else? Why was he talking out of his ass again, instead of trying to come up with something that at least sounded like it made sense? "I, uh." He what? Doubted himself, everything he'd said so far or was this all he had to say to the man he loved, or at least claimed to love? "What I mean is, pale moonlight suits you", he chuckled as he grabbed the hand on his hip and brought it up, to his face, to rub said face against it. Why were they so helplessly in love, why was he the one struck down by cupids arrow? "At least you're still warm", Ronan mumbled as he pressed a kiss to Caelans palm.

"I don't like Lavern and Olette that much, as for Myriad, I doubt we'd have a moment for ourselves there, not if it's an official visit." Henry would occupy him, one way or the other and while Ronan did not mind that, he also knew - very much - that said Henry of Myriad would look right through any facade he would be trying to put up. In the end, it was just as nice in Alster as it was anywhere else, even if it was a tad bit cold, but it wasn't time for the heat to rise just yet, for the blossoming flowers to turn into dust or fruit and it certainly wasn't time to take a swim in a river, not around this time of the year. "I can stop you from doing that, too", Ronan said, knowing fully well that there was nothing but the opportunity of the moment for the two of them, that they had nothing else to lose but themselves right now and after that, what else would there be? Nothing but a piece of void to fill, nothing but themselves, still - in the end, wherever they went, the other would be, at least that was what it felt like and for one, Ronan appreciated it immensly. Naturally, though, why wouldn't he?

Caelan was warm, soft even and it felt like he was the one that truly cherished him, the person that had everything but failed to accomplish anything, that never understood an ounce of what he'd been taught - what was he, if not a waste of air, of space and nothing else? "Yes, why wouldn't it?" While the blonde was more akin to the setting sun, bright and full of hope for a better night or a new day, the moonlight casted onto him was exhilerating, understandably so, as all of the stark shadows that fell upon him revealed something new, something old, that he had already seen, but he couldn't get enough of. Ronan was, for the lack of a better word, infatuated with his boyfriend and while he loved to spend time with him, loved to be with him, he couldn't find the right words to express any form of desire for him, unlike he did. "And yet I can't look at anyone but you", even if he were to look for his reflection in the water, or in a mirror, he would only see a sum of failures, something he didn't want to be reminded of, but Caelan made it hard not to, reminded him of being so much more and he was the one that wondered if, and only if, someone had cast a spell on the blonde. "I'm not cold, Caelan. Not more than I normally am - I just enjoy doing this and taking in a piece of you", he explained, he wasn't cold, not yet, but he would be sometime soon. "I just want to be close to you."

"I'll go anywhere you want to go, don't worry too much about that - I have nowhere else to go anyway." Alster was his home to some extend, but he could never venture into the land of wolves, never make his way to a place he barely knew - without getting judged for it, at that. Anyone in their right mind wouldn't even give a damn about Thria, but alas, Darragh had made it his personal task to make an enemy of the nomads, of the wolves as they called them - and for what? "Who said I like swimming?", he suddenly asked. Caelan wasn't wrong, but it most certainly wasn't his favorite kind of pasttime, just something he had to do once in a while. Theoretically, the blonde was picking up on stuff left and right, all the while Ronan was left wondering if he truly knew anything about him. "You better not or I'll make sure you won't." What sounded like a threat was more akin to a reminder, of all things - if he forgot, Ronan would be there to pick him back up and if he didn't, there was nothing he had to do, as simple as that. Speaking of which, the water that clung to them was starting to get cold, this had been nothing more than a dare and ... hadn't been that good of an idea.

"I found you attractive before, without knowing much about you - why would I not find you attractive now?" Insecurities aside, they both weren't doing themselves justice, but one another - they complimented each other better than they thought they would and yet, they weren't all that good at complimenting themselves, or at believing that they were worth more than what they'd already gotten. "I mean, who wouldn't swoon for you? You have a nice smile, eyes that remind me of the summer sky and while your decisions can be rash at time, you are upstanding and nice to anyone you meet, plus, I also like ... uh ... your body? Overall?" He wasn't a great talker, or a great warrior - he was himself, Ronan of Alster, the bastard son of a nomad and a duchess and he'd never be anything that those two were, no matter how much he tried. But right now, all of these matters were secondary and someone like Caelan only proved that even someone as jaded as him could forget about all the troubles he always faced. "I don't have to seduce you, you already fell for my trap some weeks ago", he blurted out - and he wasn't wrong. Him and Caelan, what were they? Not quite boyfriends, actually, that ... was too much, wasn't it? A secret lover, an affair, something that should have never been and yet it was. Ronan returned the kiss as quick as he had gotten one, but with much more force and disregard for Caelans wound, though, as long as he didn't hurt him, didn't taste iron on his lips, it all was fine. "Does it now?", he inquired, finally letting go of the hand that he'd taken just earlier. "Fine, do you want to get out then?"

"Maybe we're just drawn to that, then?", he retaliated. Ronan couldn't, as odd as it was, think of anything else that they enjoyed together, except throwing themselves into varying bodies of water. "You forgot the, maybe three or four baths we took together after saying we wouldn't." Laughter escaped his lips and while the young noble swore on so many things, all at once, this time, he was dead serious. Spending time without the blonde was something he'd usually consider wasted, or even fairly useless, but alas, spending the rest of their life together like this sounded as if it was something impossible, highly consequential. "Good", he blurted out, that was everything there was for him - as long as Caelan didn't get hurt, everything was fine and the two of them wouldn't have to suffer through any of this, let alone have to confess some sins to the doctor, that already didn't want to deal with this. "Uh, yes", he mumbled suddenly, wanting nothing more than to hide himself in Caelans shoulder or chest, but there was no opportunity for that, no chance for him to do any of that, it was as simple as that and it always would be. "I just mean that ... your training pays off? Your physique is nice? I like looking at your body and you could stand to wear your shirt less?"

There was a slight blush on his face, or maybe the alcohol from earlier was getting to him? Whatever it was, his face felt fairly warm and disconnected from the rest of his cold body, though it was not quite shivering just yet. "Meeting you was a coincidence, getting you drunk was ... not my first priority, especially not sucking you off, but I'd say it wasn't something I didn't account for", Ronan confessed. While Caelan was undeniably hot, he also was undeniably stupid at some point in his life and Ronan, who knew some of these points by now, could see past all of his lovers shortcomings, but not his own - especially not when it felt too good to be raised out of the water like that, being carried like a noblewoman and being taken care of by the blonde, who seemingly would do everything to make him feel something, anything, that came close to genuine love. "Not colder than usually, what about you?", he asked, cuddling up to Caelan the instant they were tightly wrapped together. "I know, now come here and let me give you a kiss, will you?" What else could he want? The warmth is boyfriend spread to him felt not only welcoming, but sort of comforting, too, as it would drown out all of his sorrows in an instant.

"Because eventually, we'll ruin the opportunity to get clean, just like we did in the hut", he joked. Of course they did, of course they couldn't keep their hands by themselves and Ronan, for one, wasn't exactly deathly afraid of any of the consequences, rather, wasn't it kind of obvious that they bonded a bit too strong and a bit too fast? Wasn't that his very own fault, a nightmare of his own design and wasn't it, without a doubt, something incredibly stupid? "Though, I do enjoy taking a bath with you, that I can't deny", but how long until he felt like he wanted nothing more thn to scream, to free himself of the things he found himself caught up in and until he couldn't bear to be himself any longer? There already were countless of signs of him trying to escape himself, the things he had to see and endure, but none of it had worked, no matter how deep he brought the blade down upon his wrist, no matter how often he'd tried for the cold and the snow to reclaim him, all of it eventually healed and he still walked the cursed earth that he loathed so much. However, Caelan was the one making it endurable, the one reminding him that not all of humanity was bad and also showing him that he was the one throwing himself away without having to. "Me? Not wearing a shirt? There's nothing worth seeing there, I'm pretty much a blank canvas."

No scars, no defined muscles, nothing - if anything, he looked as he always had and while he knew, or at least had a hunch that Caelan was trying to compliment him, that kind of had backfired in an instant, maybe because he had nothing, or at least thought he didn't. Who knew, maybe he was also just not seeing the things that Caelan liked so much, mainly because he couldn't even like himself. "Doing what? Just talking to you? Or being close to you, being someone you can't get out of your head and someone that's allowed to touch you whenever he wants?", Ronan inquired - he had dreamt about many things, maybe for a year or barely two, but whatever he did, it all was at the root of what he was doing now, what he wanted to do now and nothing could take that away from him, strip that from him like maybe, one day, his power and title would be taken from him. For now, he lived. "Then that at least makes one of us", he chuckled, as he cuddled up to Caelan as much as he could. His hands felt nice, the kiss too and while all of this was merely for a fleeting moment, Ronan could and would do everything to feel like this yet again, just to simply be with the one he loved so much. "You know, your hands feel nice ... a little too nice."

"That ... is true, but wouldn't one of us have to get out of the tub for that? We aren't children anymore and it's a single tub, not an open space", he reminisced. True, they could use their status, their title, for all sorts of weird things, though, he wouldn't be himself if he did and he also wouldn't be the one to win any war if he relied on his servants and not himself, no trusted aides. Though, there only was one war that he was trying to win right now, against himself, the thoughts that piled up in his head on bad days and the slowly but surely growing realiation of his own failures, of his own shortcomings, that Caelan managed to wipe away as if they were a single tear. Just for a moment, though, he felt as if he was alived, as if he was loved, cherished, free from any sin he might have committed and then, before he knew, there was nothing else for him to do than enjoy what he'd earned. "You're right, you never won't stop touching me, either", he summarized, knowing that he wasn't any better - they both weren't, they never would be. They were young and stupid and now was the right time to make mistakes. "We ... are both young enough to be stupid, aren't we? It's not that I want them to be reminded of things I did, or things I should have done, but that I just think they'd look nice, that they have a certain value to the one that bears them."

Even though Darragh wasn't his father, there were many tales about the man that half-assedly raised him alongside his mother, that he fought off the wolves that he had a personal vendetta against, that he was a chivalrous earl, someone whos strength was rarely rivaled. Aside from that, he had many scars, on his hands and arms, his legs and some of them on other patches of skin that he had never seen himself, but he had heard things of those who mingled with him, heard from the cotor that was loyal to his father by default. Then, there was his actual father, one of many faceless thrians, a person eventually lost to history and the atrocities someone would commit if they found out, but even he had scars, all over that mangled body of his, a missing finger or two, scars on and across his face and all he ever did was smile, tell of stories that sounded more like torture than anything and yet his voice was sincere, his behavior almost serene. Why wouldn't he want to be like one of them, like Caelan, who's body told stories that nobody would even be able to guess? "What? Just ask away, really. As for blowing you, I don't think I did? Not that I can ... are you really asking me if I had a dirty dream about you without even having exchanged a single word? I'm not that much of a degenerate, Caelan of Fhaergus, how dare you", Ronan sounded offended, but he wasn't, which was made apparent by a laugh right thereafter. "Hell no, keep them on me." Ronan wanted to do something for Caelan too, but instead they were cuddled together now and the blonde was the one warming him up, putting his hands over him and acting like he'd always been his. "If you want to, you can leave more marks than one, you know?"

"I've heard of that, but this is still Adrestia and not the south - who knows what's even going on over there, maybe we could be together if we just head there. But alas, we won't find out until we go there, which we probably won't. That aside, what the hell do I know how expensive an entire bathroom made out of marble is - probably way too expensive and unneccessary." That bathtub could, if they wanted to, fit more than the two of them and even if they didn't, it was spacious enough, not like the one in the hut, nothing like that wooden tub they had crammed themselves into. What else was there for them, if not each other, the presence of one another and the love they continously got to share? "Just like I won't stop touching you, isn't it that?", he murmured, unsure of the eventual outcome of all of this. What if one of the servants saw, what if one of them went after the two of them and then told everything they'd seen to his mother, or worse, Darragh? A cold shiver ran down his spine, the mere thought wasn't exactly something he'd want to consider, but Ronan knew he had to, whether he wanted to or not. Caelans touch made it all the better, though, patched him right up and gave him a reason to discard all thoughts of that kind - they were in their own little dreamworld, free of everything and anything.

"A scar that stems from your own stupidity, from the fact that you tried to live your life, isn't as bad as the ones from trying to end what you've been given. You might like me, might like how I look and that, for once, I appreciate, but it still shows me that, despite the fact that he can break my arm or leg without much effort, or no matter how much I try, this body won't budge, it won't retain a mark from the the things I actually suffer through. And I beat you because you were worried about me and my stupidity, mind you ... worried about the one thing, that's going to leave a scar on my body", the one thing that was more than never-healing skin, the patch of burnt flesh that Caelan had treated himself. Those rough hands of his, the difference in texture and touch, in temperature, felt nice and even though he knew that none of this was forever, he still wanted a piece of Caelan, of the person that had made him swoon much more than just once. "Now? I wouldn't call them dreams, rather, fantasies", he suddenly blurted out, seemingly unfazed by the things he'd said earlier, thinking about what he'd thought about if Caelan wanted any definite answers, but everything came to mind, well. "Your shirt. I washed it." Wouldn't that be enough to give the blonde an idea? Though, there wasn't much else to say, as Caelan made room to torture him some more, just with his lips, but remove most of his warmth from him. "You're kind of unfair", he chuckled but accepted everything he got, all the while his hands found his way into Caelans hair, just to tug ever so slightly on it.