|
|
Post by Terryn Wykeham on Jul 10, 2013 13:09:12 GMT -5
Terryn lounged casually in the large open area of the tavern. The night had been wild, but most nights usually were. It had started off like always travelers and town folk stopping in to unwind, the more they drank though the louder they got. There had only been a few fights which of course Terryn had started. When people got drunk they vented to him, and he loved when they vented about people in his tavern. It made it so much easier to start things. But if anyone ever asked he would say he had no idea what they were talking about. He was good at keeping his name out of things it was one of his many talents. He had cleaned as people left clearing tables and taking the mugs to the back to wash later in the day.
Terryn pushed himself to his feet to check out one of the windows close to him. The sun was just making its way into the sky, it had been a long fun night, but now it was time for him to get to work. He had dishes to clean and food to make. It probably wouldn't take him long but he still hated the idea of having to do it. Slowly he stared to pick up the remaining glasses taking them into the back with the others. They were done quicker than he had expected, it wasn't time to start preparing food so he went again to sit in front of one of the fires, he watched the embers slowly die out right before he closed his eyes to nap.
|
|
|
|
Post by Cassander Tuireann on Jul 11, 2013 3:09:31 GMT -5
The banshee was completely out of his elements. As it turned out, Sgaithte wasn’t surrounded by protective walls and magic spells. Sgaithte was full of dragons, thieves, barbarians and apparently, crazy who enjoyed stealing young banshee boys’ innocence…or was it innocences? Cassander was fairly sure it was innocence, as a plural. He was conflicted and unsure about last night, but that was another story entirely. Lyn had gone off to attend to whatever business she had to attend to in the first place, leaving Cassander by himself in this strange land. Taking it in stride as well as Cassander took strange things in stride, (so in other words, not well) he struck out in his own to explore. It wasn’t long before he came upon a building that looked like it didn’t eat teenage boys for breakfast and with a fearful glance around him, he entered timidly.
The inside of...it turned out to be a pub, or at least, what he had read about pubs, (he had never actually been inside of one before) was deserted and first, Cassander thought he was alone. He felt the creeps of being by himself in a pub, which he read of as centers for debauchery, (not that he was one to talk, after the shameful activities in which he took part in the previous night) when he sported the figure of a gorgeous boy draped in front of a pile of ashes and—he needed to stop doing that! And by that, it was calling boys “gorgeous”, even if in the privacy of his own mine. He was not supposed to refer to boys as “gorgeous”. Girls were gorgeous and well, they were, but occasionally, his brain thought boys were attractive as well. Must be a side effect of the chemicals he had been experimenting with in the lab.
He crept up to the sleeping boy and despite his best efforts, he felt himself blush heartily when he got a clear view of his…angelic sleeping face. What he wouldn’t give to—and he stopped that nonsense right there. As he was so good at doing when his emotions reared their messy heads, he got done to business and set about poking the boy in the ribs.
“Hey, you,” He whispered, in case there was someone dangerous nearby waiting to dismember him for thinking about boys the way he thought about girls, “hey…wake up!”
|
|
|
|
Post by Terryn Wykeham on Jul 11, 2013 10:15:28 GMT -5
"Leave me alone," Terryn mumbled when he felt poking in his ribs. 'Wait? Someone's poking me?' This thought caused his eye lids to fly open, standing over him was a person. "Ah!" He screamed flopping out of the chair. He hadn't been ready for someone to come into his tavern. It wasn't quite lunch time and new comers tended to stay away from the shack looking place. They only came if someone dragged them kicking and screaming, usually. This young boy looked way out of his element. He was blushing for some unknown reason and his stance screamed lost. Terryn let his gaze freely wonder the boy, he was skinny and awfully white. But somehow he made it work, especially those round green eyes and dark brown hair.
Terryn slowly got to his feet, the guy was tall, but then again almost everybody was taller than Terryn. Rolling his head to pop his neck he stood up on the chair that he had fallen out of. It put him closer to the other mans height, it was easier to rant at someone when you didn't have to push your head back to do it. "Who pokes someone when there sleeping?!" Terryn asked getting into the boys personal space, "All you had to do was push me out of the chair!" Turning around from the boy he walked to the bar motioning for the other male to follow him. "I need a drink. You want something? It's on the house someone with gorgeous green eyes like yours." Terryn threw a his dashing smirk over his shoulder waiting for the boy to follow him.
He knew he was probably confusing the hell out of the young lad, but it was Terryn and he confused the hell out of anybody. He also knew he was so making this boy uncomfortable and that was what Terryn lived for! It was what kept him entertained. He winked at the kid just to see if he would blush again before walking behind the counter and motioning to a seat for the kid to take. "I don't bite, well, I only give love bites."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cassander Tuireann on Jul 11, 2013 22:44:01 GMT -5
Cassander darted back when the other boy spoke, but when he didn’t suddenly spring to his feet and turn into a fearsome monster, he relaxed…somewhat. His poking did the trick and the boy woke up and when he did, he opened a beautiful pair of dark blue eyes that the banshee couldn’t help but stare into. No! Boys did not stare into other boys’ eyes. It…it..it just wasn’t done! He felt something rushing to his ears and he fluttered his wings for balance and cleared his throat. Right…so the boy’s eyes were pretty…and he, Cassander, thought so…big deal! One could be think something was pretty, without being attracted to it. That was the way that worked…right?
In response to his poking, the other boy used the chair he had been sleeping on to stand up, forcing Cassander to look into his face. Still growing and short for a banshee, Cassander did not feel uncomfortable with being the short of the two, even if it was by the fault of the chair. However, this angle gave him a better view of the boy’s face…and of his curly hair that looked awfully soft that Cassander found himself itching to touch, for some reason. Focus, Cassander. He reprimanded himself.
“I was trying to wake you up.” Cassander said, stating the obvious. And just like that the other boy motioned for the banshee to follow him, which Cassander did, tip-toeing his way to the bar, which was uncharted territory.
“Uhh…I don’t drink…thanks.” He said, awkwardly. The truth wasn’t that Cassander didn’t drink, it was just that he never had and he was too shy to admit. Plus, he had seen what alcohol did to people and he didn’t want it to mess with his prized scientific mind. “But don’t let me stop you.” He added, as a botched attempt at social graces. He was sort of—his brain froze as the boy mentioned his eyes and all his social conditioning flew out the window as he stared at the floor to hide his magenta blush.
“Um…okay…” He squeaked.
He didn’t know what to make of the love bite comment, but took it as a compliment, whatever a love bite meant. He supposed it involved biting a person one loved to show that they were loved by the biter in question, not that that made any sense to him. Whatever.
“Er, so…you live here?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Terryn Wykeham on Jul 11, 2013 23:35:59 GMT -5
Terryn shrugged his shoulders when the boy said he didn't want a drink, he found himself a glass that looked clean and filled it to the brim with some kind of ale. He watched the boy carefully as he drank, licking his lips after each swallow. He could tell the boy was confused about most of the things Terryn was saying, obviously he needed to be taught a thing or two. Terryn was making him uncomfortable and that was exactly what Terryn was trying to accomplish. When the boy blushed Terryn felt his pants become just a little tighter, thank goodness for the counter. He would probably scare the boy if he moved now.
Terryn was shaken from the thoughts of his body's reaction to the boys blush when he asked if he lived here. Oh, this is just to easy, Terryn said smiling to himself.He was enjoying the company of the kid even though he had only just met him. "You know kid, you were should at least know the person name before you start talking about bedrooms." The Nymph teased, winking at the kid to let him know, hopefully, that he was teasing. "My name is Terryn by the way, Terryn Wykeham. And yes I live here."
By now the drink was long gone, he scowled into the bottom of the glass before filling it up again. The damn things always seemed tohave holes at the bottom of them. His drinks always seemed to disappear way too fast. Glancing over the kid he filled up another glass with a ale that wasn't even come close to the kind of strong Terryn was used too. "Here it's like water. I don't know where your from but if you don't keep liquids in your body 'round here you'll burn up." He said a serious tone in his voice which was a rarity for him.
Terryn watched the boy to see if he would follow directions or if he would shake his head and run for the hills, maybe there would be a mixture of both. He couldn't get over how handsome the boy was, the green eyes did wonders. And how he hadn't noticed the wings were totally beyond him. This boy was capturing his interest and the poor boy had no idea what it meant to capture Terryn's interests.
|
|
|
|
Post by Cassander Tuireann on Jul 12, 2013 0:37:52 GMT -5
The boy’s bedroom joke flew straight over Cassander’s head and he nodded, politely and proceeded to take it literally. “Oh?” He asked, “Are they nice bedrooms?” He wasn’t sure how they had gotten onto the topic of the his bedrooms, or why he had multiple bedrooms. Maybe this boy was some sort of nobility in these parts, or maybe an innkeeper. It occurred to Cassander that he had never met an innkeeper in person, but he had read about them in poems and novels. Innkeepers had been older than this boy in all of the stories he had read, but perhaps innkeepers could be younger in real life?
He winked at him, and so the banshee winked back, thinking it was the way people greeted each other in Sgaithte. He hadn’t been “out much” in his life and his knowledge of the world was limited to the orphanage in Gaothaidh and Ioralta Academy. “My name’s Cassander Tuireann.” He said, his mouth still slightly open as he searched for something impressive to say after he had given his name, like knights did in the tales he had read. “I’m a magician and a scientist student at Ioralta Academy.”
Haltingly, he reached for the mug that was offered him. He glanced Terryn again and then back to the glass. He sniffed it, as discretely as he could, given the circumstances and employed every muscle in his face not to show his distaste for the stench he inhaled. Something this strong-smelling couldn’t be good, could it. Glancing back at Terryn, he discovered that the other boy was still watching him and he cracked under the peer pressure. He pressed the mug to his lips, closed his eyes and drank.
Seconds later, his body convulsed in a coughing fit. He hadn’t tasted any kind of liquor before and his first taste left him clueless as to why adults, and Terryn, apparently, consumed it like the gods consumed nectar. Recovering enough to turn his eyes on Terryn’s adorable face, he managed to crack a feeble joke. “You, uh, give the new boy the strong stuff?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Terryn Wykeham on Jul 12, 2013 10:07:15 GMT -5
Oh, this boy really had no clue about anything did he? He was an innocent lad that was painfully obvious. Terryn shook his head as he replied, "Yeah, upstairs there are a lot of bedrooms. You can have one if you need a place to sleep." He didn't even try teasing the boy on that one because he mostly likely wouldn't even get it. Although, the more he thought about it, the boy would probably be the best guest that had ever stayed here. He most likely wouldn't leave the place looking like a pig sty, which would mean less cleaning up to do for Terryn. Now he really wanted the boy to take a room. And since Terryn owned the place he would get the room right next door to Terryn. A smile spread across his face at the thought.
The wink totally caught Terryn off guard, but he decided to ignore it, thinking the boy had no clue what a wink was. The boy said his name and he couldn't help but repeat it out loud, "Cassander," Terryn said slowly, feeling each letter slowly roll off his his tongue. The name, to Terryn, seemed to fit the boy. "Ah, so your smart? People around here need a little bit more of that." Terryn said rolling his eyes as he thought about all the idiots that walked into his bar on any given day. "Good job kid. Haven't met many people who can say they went to school there." The Nymph tried hard to pay him a complaint that he would understand, and wasn't sexual.
Terryn jumped over the bar and started hitting the boys back, when he was done coughing he kept his hand still on his back. At the boys comment the nymph started laughing, "Kiddo that stuffs not very strong at all. I'd let you try mine but you might die and I can't have a handsome face like yours leave this world." Terryn smiled at the boy before walking away and giving him space.
He had the perfect plan now! Little touches then move away, nice complaints than go serious. Then the beautiful lad would have to start showing signs if the boy wanted something from Terryn. Terryn would happily give the boy almost anything he asked for. Almost. He looked over Cassander again, this boy had no idea how breathtaking he was. Hopefully, though the kid would let Terryn show him just how great he was.
Terryn sat down one chair separated them, it felt odd to Terryn not to be able to be right up on somebody but he shrugged it off. "So, Mr. Tuireann, are you going to show me some of this magic stuff or is it something you can't show off?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Cassander Tuireann on Jul 12, 2013 22:30:51 GMT -5
He spluttered until the alcohol had left him, thankful for Terryn's ministrations for more than one reason--no, there was only one reason, thank you very much, and it was perfectly hetero and safe--and there went the compliments about him being handsome again...this was so not working.
"I'd love to stay, but, my...uh...sponsor..." He decided on a word that only summed up Lyn's financial contributions to his life, "my sponsor was supposed to get me back to Ioralta Academy last night before curfew, but she still refuses to leave. I really do hope we're gone by this evening at the latest...but I really would love to stay in one of your bedrooms another time, I'm sure they're lovely." He added, hoping that Terryn wouldn't take his impatience with Lyn as a rudeness towards him.
He blushed again and smiled one of his awkward smiles. He felt like curling up into a ball and rocking himself to sleep in a combination of frustration at his social inabilities, the disgust with himself and the pure bliss of being paid so many compliments in the past twenty-four hours. Forcing himself to do otherwise, he fixed his gaze on a glass close to Terryn's hand and only using his eyes, Cassander levitated the glass up, until he was able to set neatly on the top of Terryn's head.
He gazed at the other boy. He was beautiful, yet in a masculine way. The soft curve of his facial features, so different from Cassander's sharp pointed nose and thick jawline. The soft fuzz of his facial hair, which Cassander was still unable to grow, made the banshee want to read out and touch it, to see if it felt rough or silky. It would be so easy just to give in, to live a double life filled with debauchery. The gods said nothing against it and neither did the law, but it just felt...odd. He'd have to read up on homosexuality when he got back to the library.
"I'm sorry!" Cassander apologized, as his attention had wandered to Terryn's shoulders, the glass on top of his head as shattered, as a result of his inattentiveness."I'm so, so sorry sir. Here, let me help you clean it up." He moved from his chair towards the mess. "Are you hurt?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Terryn Wykeham on Jul 13, 2013 21:51:13 GMT -5
Ah, so the kid was leaving soon. Who would leave a boy like this alone in this kingdom? This boy could have been ripped to shreds by one of the crazies that live around here! Terryn didn't like this sponsor already, and he hadn't even met the lady. "Seems like you got yourself a real good one," He mumbled looking down at the bar.
He carefully watched as the boy moved the glass up in the air. Terryn had always loved watching others perform magic. It amazed him to no ends. He didn't have many powers and hardly used his but something about watching others excited him. It was fascinating how it seemed so easy for the young boy to control it. When the glass was sitting on his head, Terryn cast a hidden glance at Cassander.
He quickly turned his gaze ahead again, the boy was staring at him. He was affected by Terryn's good looks. He could practially feel the boy staring at him now. If only he would get closer to me! Terryn yelled to himself. If the boy touched him first than it would be okay Terryn could do what he wanted after that, or at least make a first move. He sat there plotting totally forgetting about the glass on his head. How could he possibly get the boy to touch him. He could fall, but he and the boy would most likely both fall after that. Maybe they could both reach for something at the same time, no that was too normal.
Cold liquid and an apologizing voice broke him from his thoughts. This was perfect! Hopefully the boy would be polite try to help clean him up and then Terryn would jump at his chance. He might get slapped or hurt, it didn't matter he couldn't die anyway. Come on, kid just a little closer. His mind thought while his voice said, "This is nothing a little wash rag won't fix. In fact I think this is the smallest amount of ale I have ever had on myself." With a wink he gave the boy his most charming smile.
|
|
|
|
Post by Cassander Tuireann on Jul 13, 2013 22:20:37 GMT -5
"Rag...rag..." Cassander repeated, scurrying behind the counter and searching for a suitable cloth to clean the mess on Terryn's head. He found one, which was rather dirty, by his standards, behind the bar. Folding it up, he wrung it, as if he was wringing the water out of it, even though it was nearly dry, focusing on the image of a clean, dry cloth and it transformed into one, dry, clean and bright white.
"Here, hold still!" Cassander ordered, wiping delicately at Terryn's face and hair. He towered over the other boy, even though he was considered short for a banshee. He found the Terryn's short statue adorable and it made him the perfect height to snuggle against Cassander's chest. Wait...WHAT?! Cassander didn't want any men snuggling against his chest, thank you very much. He pushed the unwanted thoughts from his mind even as he admired Terryn's perfect skin and beautiful curly hair. He sped up his task, eager to put physical distance between himself and Terryn and hopefully make the thoughts stop. When Terryn was as dry as he going to get, Cassander took an awkwardly huge step back and surveyed his handiwork. Admittedly, he could have gotten Terryn dryer if he had been willing to use magic directly on him, but that would require imagining him in an explicitly dry state.
"There...good as new." The banshee announced, lamely.
"So, I was just wondering..." He said, in an awkward segue. "What are you, exactly? I mean, who were your parents...or no! That's not what I meant! What's your race, I mean..." He was beet red again, and wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment. "I was just curious as to...do you know what I mean?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Terryn Wykeham on Jul 13, 2013 22:40:38 GMT -5
Terryn sat perfectly still keeping his hands down at his sides like a good boy. Damn, this was hard! This was not how Terryn acted! He would have his dirty old paws all over this kid by now! But, no, he was being a good boy! If someone saw him now they would be setting this as the new world record. He had respectfully, as respectfully as Terryn could get, kept his hands to himself. He wanted to reach out his hand and pull the boy towards him.
As the boy cleaned him off, he could see Cassander's thoughts running a mile a minute. The kid was feeling something it was just the matter of how to get the kid to come out with it. Terryn was tired of little hints and waiting. He wasn't patient and it was time for Terryn to go back to being, well, Terryn.
"I'm a Nymph. I don't talk about my parents. And I like boys and girls." Terryn stood as he talked slowly closing the space between him and Cassander. "How about you?" The question was a loaded one. But he didn't give the boy a chance to answer. He slowly wrapped one arm around Cassander's waist, "Do you like me Cassander? Do I make you nervous? Do I give you butterflies?"
Slowly without doing anything but rub his hand along Cassanders butt he moved back. The nymph raised an eyebrow and walked back to the chair he had been lounging in when the boy had woken him. He sat down and acted as though he were ignoring Cassander. The ball was in the boys court now, Terryn wasn't going to force the boy. He would have to come willingly to him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Cassander Tuireann on Jul 14, 2013 0:11:13 GMT -5
A nymph, well, that explained why he was so pretty. Cassander tried to formulate a response to the boy's announcement that he liked boys and girls, but his mouth was frozen in a stupid shape, halfway open, trying to say something enlightening and socially acceptable, but he failed miserably and ended up squeaking stupidly. He ended up nodding slowly with a soft "Ahh..." of affirmation.
Terryn slipped his arm around Cassander's waist and the banshee went stiff as a board. He stood as straight up-and-down as a tin soldier at attention, unable to even turn his head and look at the nymph. His eyes flicked back and forth in their sockets and he started to go purple in the face until he realized that he had forgotten to breath and he took a careful breath, his brain beginning to function again as the oxygen traveled to it. Right, this situation...he could handle this in a perfectly--
--his hand slipped over his backside and he squealed like a newborn filly and shied away from the other boy. His pulse was racing, his blood boiling and he was hyperventilating as he stared back at Terryn. The worst thing was, he had actually enjoyed being pulled against his hip and he had enjoyed the slip of his hand even more. Why? Why couldn't he be normal and not be plagued by the pretty faces of men? Why couldn't he stare at a pair of bulging biceps and not be affected in the slightest? Why did this curse have to be his?
"I...I..." He stuttered, staring stupidly at Terryn's gorgeous face. Then something snapped back into place in his brain and he went into full boy-genius mode.
"Bisexuality is found in all species, but homophobia is only found in humanity, but neither of us is human, so logically, we should not be affected by homophobia, unless homophobia has spread to the fae houses as well. Homophobia is the fear of homosexuals, but one is not a homosexual unless one is attracted exclusively to the same sex. Seeing as I am only afraid of myself and I am...I am...attracted to both males and females, I am not a homophobe...and neither am I a homosexual. Homosexuality is ingrained in the DNA--it's the new thing the scientists of Gaothaidh have recently discovered, of homosexual individuals and homophobia is merely an institution or a school of thought. I am not a homophobe and neither am I a homosexual." He came out of his logic-trip and looked at Terryn, meeting his eyes and blushing deeply as he came smitten, scared boy again.
"So then why am I so scared?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Terryn Wykeham on Jul 14, 2013 9:42:28 GMT -5
Terryn tried his best follow everything that was coming out of the boys mouth, but he couldn't. All he really got out of the speech was that the boy was bisexual, which was perfect for Terryn. He had already known the boy was scared out of his mind, that was obvious. Somehow, Terrryn had to figure out how in the world to make the boy feel just little more comfortable with his attraction to men.
"Have you ever kissed a male?" Terryn asked raising his eyebrow. This was the best place as any to start. Kissing, was always the best place to start. Well, that's how Terryn felt. When you are mad, sad, happy, gloomy, excited, or scared kissing just made everything better! But then again this was coming from a nymph who acted as though he had no responsibilities.
Sighing, Terryn pat the sea he was sitting on, wanting for Cassander to come sit by him. Then he turned and looked at the boy. "Don't be afraid. There is nothing scary about me." Terryn smiled again, this time it was a soft smile, a smile to set the boy at ease. "I can show you what's like. I can show you how it feels. If not, I'll be your friend. I mean I'll be your friend either way. It doesn't have to be a relationship, because frankly I am not good at those. Think of it was teacher," Terryn pointed at himself,"teaching student." Then he pointed towards Cassander.
Terryn paused a second letting what he had said sink into the boys brain. He couldn't push anymore than he had, it was up to the boy. It wouldn't be right for Terryn to take anything away from the boy. He might never admit his feelings if Terryn did that. With a heavy sigh Terryn brought his eyes to the dead fireplace, "So what'll it be, kid?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Cassander Tuireann on Jul 14, 2013 13:15:04 GMT -5
Cassander's heart raced, but for reasons other than just simple attraction.
"No..." He admitted, still standing stiff as a board in his discomfort. Terryn was proposing it in a way he understood: student and teacher. Just because he was attracted to someone, male or female, didn't mean he had to kiss them, did it? Did it? But then, he had kissed Lyn the night before (or other, she had kissed him) and he was under the impression that she was something of a prostitute (and he did know what those were, thank you very much). What was kissing a boy, the night after kissing a whore? Besides, under all the conflict, there was still the simple concept of him just wanting to kiss him because he was pretty and intriguing.
"Okay..." He finally squeaked, but he remained rooted to the spot he stood, at a loss as to what to do next. Was he just supposed to cross the room and lay one on him? How did one do these things?
|
|
|
|
Post by Terryn Wykeham on Jul 14, 2013 14:32:08 GMT -5
Finally! He had hooked the boy. Now the only thing left was to make the boy relax before kissing him. Being relaxed was the most important part of a kiss. Other than lips and tongue, of course, but the boy wasn't ready for tongue yet. Jumping to his feet Terryn walked to the boy pulling him by his hand over to the couch by the dead fire. He sat him down before sitting right next to him. He was almost in the poor boys lap. They were now roughly the same height. And Terryn smiled easily at the boy, turning his head so he looked right into Terryn's eyes.
"Put your hand on the back of my neck and touch your lips to mine. You set the pace and I'll follow. The key though, is too not worry about it. No ones her, Cassander, be yourself." Terryn's voice was horse, whether the boy knew it or not he was teasing the hell out of Terryn. "Just feel." And with that Terryn held his breath waiting for the boy to take control.
Terryn craved to close the gap between his lips and the Cassander's, but he knew it would be too much. He was giving the kid a chance to back out if he still wasn't comfortable. He knew it was the right thing to do, but sometimes right wasn't always the best thing to do. This wasn't how Terryn was and it was really killing him. He took in a deep breath and kissed the boys forehead before winking. He was trying to calm any nerves the boy had now. Trying to get him not to over think what was running through his head. Boy, was waiting, hard.
|
|
