sinbound. [Akira & Earinor] [ENG]

"You'll be fine...", Caelan reiterated, but he truly lost focus on that topic at the moment. It wasn't important anyhow, he didn't lie to Ronan, he'd do just fine. Bein polite and well behaved was really enough for Caelans father, especially when he felt the need to apologize for Caelans existence anyway. He'd have plenty to say without Ronan having to respond. Whatever, Ronan had other plans than worrying about Caelans family right now too, it seemed. "I'm not teasing you...", Caelan complained meekly. He was just stating facts and he was probably as interested as Ronan was, seeing that he didn't even consider the possibilty to have a boyfriend not too long ago. Now he wanted to know how to please him, how to make him feel good and it was even better if they could discover that together. Sometimes Ronan seemed so eager, then other times he acted all shy about only kissing.

"When I am like this? Like what...?", Caelan asked. Was he different than usual? Aside from being close and a bit flirty, but when wasn't he? "Of course you'll come, I'll show you everything." As if he'd leave Ronan alone in the estate and went out on his own. No, if he already had him around, of course he'd drag him everywhere. "A door? Would your father open that door for me? And leaving through the front door hardly counts as being stolen away." The window was just fine and Ronans had a nice climbable tree in front of it. Ronan meanwhile got even more brazen and wrapped his legs around Caelan, pulling him in a bit more even until he had nowhere else to go. He let out a muffled sound of surprise. Ronans lips were still on his and he returned the kiss with vigor. "Huh? Why...?", Caelan asked, missing the context or having forgotten about it because Ronan messed with his head. "Is it...? A joke I mean...?", he asked, then kissed Ronan again who didn't let him go anywhere else anyway.

"If that's what you are saying, I have to be.", Ronan ambled, deciding that he had to believe at least a little of what Caelan was telling him, even if he never really wanted to. Why, though? He could simply pretend he had no idea how to handle himself, or his emotions and he figured that this man would, after all, come to his aid and turn his worries and woes into nothing but fine dust, sprinkled and gathered among the ashes of his older doubts. Being difficult seemed to be Ronans forte, as if the winds of change never would billow in the valley he found himself in. "Sometimes I can't tell ...", he sheepishly admitted, sounding hoarse and exhausted - he'd not done anything and yet, his strength was already wanning. Ronan really wasn't made for any of this, was he now? Neither his mind nor body obeyed him, what a strange realization that had to be. To him, it wasn't anything new - he wouldn't change, not because he didn't want to, but rather because he couldn't, no matter what he tried or how desperately he did. Solace wasn't something that was dished out on a whim and the uncut truth was that he was too reliant on a man that, beyond it all, had to pick up the scraps and pieces of him, to reassemble him.

"Forward and daring.", he whispered. Was Caelan playing a game? Ronan could never tell with this man - he always insisted he wasn't, which was the unfiltered truth, but even then, it seemed as if he had his doubts about it. What a pain in the ass Ronan was, ever-doubtful and unloving. "And if I don't like it?", was his warning, like it mattered. Caelan would make him like it, wouldn't he? Prance around with him, show him and get all giddy the moment he feigned interest in one of the many things he'd be overwhelmed by - the wolfling was spoiled for choice, he would be now and he was then. "No, he'd put an extra lock on it to keep you out." Darragh wouldn't want Caelan around Ronan, he already knew as much - he'd received praise for ruining his face and Ronan had decided that he'd never take part in a tourney again, to save himself the headache and Caelan another avoidable injury. "Because I said it was too early for this kind of stuff and now I'm doing this.", Ronan mumbled, wanting Caelan even closer, facing physical limitations along the way. "No ... I mean, I ... don't think so?", was his half-spoken apology. So much for being romantic yet again - he indulged Caelans kiss and put those hands of his to work instead, pulling at Caelans clothing a little, pulling him closer.

"Hah... maybe sometimes I am.", Caelan admitted with a smile, then leaned in for another kiss. "I just want you to relax, laugh a little, maybe fight me over feeling down." At least some small anger did distract him from being sad and gloomy most of the time, but Caelan pretty much meant everything he said and he didn't think too much about how it came across. He wasn't thinking about ways to tease Ronan, he just said what he thought would fit in the moment and would make Ronan feel better. Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious, Caelan was too and he actually couldn't read all those books Ronan owned. Wasn't it impressive to speak two different languages? Caelan only had this one and sometimes he didn't sound particularily noble, to the dismay of his father. Ronan on the other hand was always well spoken, always polite and he didn't even have any accent which would mark him as being from Alster. Caelan refrained from telling Ronan how impressed he was by him, he already knew it was hard for him to accept.

Caelan let out a soft laugh. "I guess that I am.", he admitted. Why not simply state what he wanted and thought especially when it was someone he could be completely honest with? "I think this is more a case of my mouth being faster than my brain however." Not anything he actively strove to do. "Then we'll find something you do like.", he answered with another smile, touching Ronans nose with his own. "The window then. He won't notice for a while and we'll be far away." If there was anything to protect Ronan from, then it was his father. Caelan only saw the surface of it all, he was sure. He could relate to having a difficult relationship with his father, but he believed his own wasn't as bad after all, they just were too different in every aspect of their lives. "People change their mind all the time.", Caelan whispered with a smile still plastered to his face. Ronan kept pulling on him, let his hands wander over Caelans chest, crumpling his shirt. He took it as an invitation to let his own hands roam a bit. Whenever Ronan thought he was being charmed by Caelan, he didn't realize he did much of the same to Caelan as well. "No need to plan ahead... let's just do what feels right...", he whispered between the kisses. In a sense this was going to be the last opportunity for them to be as spontanous as this, without anyone around who could see or heat about their secret.

“Just sometimes?”, Ronan teased Caelan in turn and while he did, he sounded exponentially more amused than he should be. Whenever he spent time with this guy, it was like someone had knocked the air out of his lungs and reminded him of just how mesmerizing Caelan of Fhaergus could be. A simple gaze was all it took. “Do you want to try a fist fight or something?”, he suggested, only for the kiss to shut him up. Perhaps the idea wasn’t stupid, but Ronan couldn’t see the execution working in his favor, even if that big, golden dog played nice and just slobbered all over him, he’d overpower him with relative ease. Still, it made his heart flutter: the thought of being at the mercy of a gentle soul like this one was, knowing he’d never go as far as to irrevocably hurt him like he had done, yet, the thrill of a situation like that would be sure to get both of their blood pumping, put them a little on edge so to speak. Happiness never seemed to show up in the right kind of dossier for Ronan, so why shouldn’t he make his own? Caelan would help him mold it - or punch it into shape - and he’d find out new things about himself, too. It all seemed so easy all of a sudden.

“No objections, then?” What a curious man he could be, though. Often times Ronan was left wondering just how much he could push and pull Caelan, how many buttons he needed to press, or what kept him going like this and now that he knew him better, not just from afar, he knew even less about him. At times it felt like that. “Mouth faster than your brain? I think I’ve been witness to that once or twice.”, he kept up the teasing act, though, this one wasn’t that wrong. “You’re much too gentle with me, you know that? Always bending to my whims and woes, pleasing me at every turn. Shouldn’t I step out of my comfort zone for you, too?”, Ronan whispered, his words barely audible the longer he went on. The closer Caelan came, the more he tried to avoid him with his eyes, already looking a different direction to avoid direct contact. “You better not drop me.” A fall from the window by his room shouldn’t be deadly, but bound to be painful - perhaps planting a bush below ahead of time would soften the blow and yet, if it were his mothers beloved roses, that would only hurt more. “And I’m like a leaf in the wind.”, he assessed and still went in for another kiss, his hands utterly useless as he ruined Caelans shirt and posture, to lap at his lips like a parched, dying man drinking the finest of ambrosia in his last waking moments. “Being with you always feels right.” What a kitschy way of putting it … Ronan fumbled with Caelans buttons, his lips occupied and his mind foggy with questions about wants and needs. Had he taken it too far? If anything, he wanted Caelan on that counter with him, something impossible, just as loving him openly was, meaning the voices in his head wouldn’t grant him that moment of respite he was desperately begging for. “We’re both horrible at keeping our hands to ourselves …”