gremlinhaus | Saintsmourn

Saintsmourn

"Bless me father, for I have sinned," the words tumbled past his lips, ingrained in the well worn pathways of his memory from the years he'd spent in catechism and as an altar boy. Not that Liam was devout anymore -- how could he be, given what he'd become, given what he did and continued to do. The confessional booth was small and dark, light filtering in only dimly through the door and its screen that kept him hidden from the sanctuary beyond and from the priest he assumed would be on the other side.

"It has been... a very long time since my last confession."

What was he doing here? This was ridiculous. He couldn't possibly expect forgiveness and absolution. There had to be true repentance for that, real contrition, and Liam knew he couldn't manage either. He hated what he did, despised every moment of it, but he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. The price for disobeying was far too severe, and he would not be the one to pay it. The price for his disobedience and his failure would be paid by his brother, and he couldn't live with that.

So William had made his choice, made it again and again, putting that one life ahead of so many others. And oh he was good at what he did, talented at ruining people, in shattering whatever it was in a human being that kept their souls in place, until they were ready to throw it away. His watcher commended him for it, in a sick and sadistic sort of amusement.

Today's lost soul had been... fuck. It had been hard. She was young, barely nineteen, and her road had already been a hard one. He'd played the game with her for the past few weeks, insinuating darkness and doubt into the cracks of that already-battered soul. Today. Today she'd shattered, and there would be no recovering from it. Another soul for the demon who owned him.

He could feel the panic rising up in his chest, cold and hard and threatening to freeze his lungs so he couldn't draw in enough breath. In the dimness and silence of the confessional, all the carefully constructed walls and facades trembled and fell away. Gone were the easy smiles and quite literal devil-may-care attitude, all the charisma and charm that he relied on in his cursed excuse for a job. It was him and his breathing and the silence and the faceless priest in the chamber beside him. Liam wondered if he could hear the panic in his breathing.

"I... sorry. This was a mistake. I should go. I'm sorry, Father, for wasting your time."

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Riley would make an attempt to take the other man at face value, to forget that he was as deep and as dark as sea caverns forgotten by time, or a shipwreck forgotten through history. He offered a smile, it may not suffice over long term but in the right now perhaps it would do.

"I am glad." He hoped that he had contributed to it the feeling of relief if only for a little bit-- but at the end there was an unspoken 'for now' which he did not think should be scrutinized until the light of morning.

Because right now he did not want to take this backwards and make things awkward; instead he tucked himself into the other man's side and pillowed his head against Liam's shoulder. "You deserve the world."

That smile would sustain him. Of course it would. This man -- this beautifully kind man who had run here in the torrential rain because he was worried about Liam of all things, of all people -- may be the closest that Liam could come to the light of salvation, and he'd choose Riley's light over Heaven's light again and again. If that was his choice.

Liam settled his arms around Riley comfortably, marveling at how naturally they fit together. This was Liam's first post-sex cuddle, and he was a fan of it.

Those next words startled eyes that had been slowly easing shut to snap wide open. Liam knew that what he deserved was damnation at the end of the day. "Feel kind of like I have it right now..." Liam murmured, ducking his head to press a kiss through blond hair, breathing in the comforting scent of his beautiful priest.

And thus did Riley have his own brand of fluster, burrowing his face against a neck as those words reverberated through him, that he was called the world? Oh now that was a sinful feeling indeed; he understood now why angels had fallen, because of such words as that that moved him and made him feel like perhaps he could reach further and higher.

Instead he attempted to temper that feeling, instead using his figurative wings to wrap around Liam protectively. How sex had happened, well he was still trying to figure that out, but he was a fan of the post-cuddle as well.

It was nice, and it warmed his soul.

But also a bit smug because he had been able to give Liam something that the demon couldn't. It was not that he was jealous of a demon, but he was angry at him nevertheless.

Well. That was adorable. Flustered Riley was now something that Liam had seen, and it would inevitably become some goal to see how much he could fluster his sweet priest -- except, no, he wouldn't. This was not a beginning. This was an end, a mayfly moment come and already near gone.

It had to be that. For Riley's sake.

He ducked his head, pressing a kiss through soft blond hair, laughing quiet and at ease, on the verge of dozing off. "Sleep, beautiful. Morning's gonna show up way too soon."

He wanted to enjoy the other man's presence for as long as he could so when Liam started to tuck into him a bit more warmly, the Priest followed suit as their bodies collided into a blanket of safety.

Right now he was in the perfect position to rest his head against chest and thus he did-- and he found the utter peace and soothing tranquility of being wrapped in the a4ms of his beloved.. and he never wanted to leave.

Liam's entire chest ached with how full it felt, how overwhelmingly warm and flooded through with emotion as Riley rested his head there. If things were different, if either of them had walked a different path, he could imagine this being each and every night and every morning, safe and sound and holding tight to the man he wanted to give his heart to. But things were what they were, so he'd resigned himself to the memory and the memory alone, and to the yearning that would seep in through all the cracks he never knew he had in the walls he'd built around himself.

Fingers teasing at the edges of Riley's hair, an absentminded touch more than anything else, Liam sighed soft and sleepy, quite certain by the quiet and still way that the priest lay tucked against him that Riley had slipped off to sleep. So he murmured softly, a secret he intended to keep, "I think I love you. In a different world, where I wasn't... this... I'd spend my whole life telling you." But this was their world, and those words would have to survive on nothing more than this single, whispered breath.

Perhaps it was a good thing that Riley slipped into slumber quite effortlessly; he had always been like that-- catching the boat to sleep quite quickly, insofar as much that he had always gotten teased by his brothers for the fact that for the longest time he'd not been able to make it to the new year. And he was comfortable, trusting in the person tucked in next to him even though perhaps he should not have placed so much trust on a path that would surely lead to ruination.

But here he was, with the warm spiced soap of Liam's body like some sort of crisp autumn breeze.

And he did not hear those words that could never be taken back, and perhaps it would be easier that way for Riley, or perhaps it would not. After all there was feelings in the other man as well, such intangible feelings that burrowed right in his heart and was still there thrumming underneath the surface.

But the powers that be, he could hear the soft murmur of words, and he snuffled against that neck but only a little bit. As if he was responding in his own way even subconsciously to the radiation of sweetness that the other man bestowed upon him.

Sleep was not usually an easy thing for Liam. It was a fitful, fraught experience, lined with nightmares and the echoes of the cries of despair he'd left in his wake doing his owner's bidding. But something about Riley's presence, the solid warmth of the body curled against his, the soft sound of breathing and the increasingly familiar and loved scent of clear water and fresh salt air tinged faintly with the very last vestiges of church incense, lulled him into a peaceful slumber for once.

Dawn arrived, inevitably, splashing light through the gaps of curtains, and stirring Liam rather reluctantly from his rest. A slight stirring and a low grumble of protest as he turned to burrow into the other man as if he could hide from the morning. As consciousness got a more secure hold on him though, he realized that this was not exactly his usual, waking up intertwined with another body -- well, at least one that was warm and human and welcome -- and the night before joined the flood of the morning light, all pleasant memories and their accompanying shadows of longing. Right, yes. He'd stayed. He'd actually stayed the night when Liam had asked, and he was here and real.

And had been promised breakfast.

As Liam shifted, the light would beam down upon Riley's own slumbering visage and dappled the skin here and there, making locks of blonde lighter, while playing against skin that had once been far more tan than it was now. He shifted then and then his eyes slid open in a half-drowsy daze. And then he smiled, and it was a sleepy sort, and he reached up to use his arm to block the sunlight from blinding.

"Morning......"

His voice was sleep-touched, a little hint of gravel to the softness; low and deep. "How did you sleep?" he was going to care, it was what he did the best out of everything in tje world.

He was unfairly beautiful, Liam mused to himself, unable to resist the urge to brush back some of that sun-blessed blond hair from his face, freezing when those blue eyes opened and then easing when he saw the smile spread its way over Riley's face. Funny how an expression could be even brighter than the sunrise itself. Yes, entirely unfair.

"Morning yourself, beautiful" Liam murmured, fingers turning so that the backs of his knuckles could trace along Riley's cheek. The question that his priest spoke next was so innocent and simple, but it still struck right to the heart of him. When was the last time anyone had cared enough to ask him something so simple and basically human? "Better than I had any right to, I think. How about you?"

He knew he should drag himself from the warmth of this embrace and start seeing to starting the day, to making breakfast and (far worse) making his goodbyes to Riley, but oh the selfish part of him didn't want to at all.

This felt natural, being here with Liam looking down at him. The softest brush of knuckle against his cheek, and the way that the eyes looked into his own and did such powerful things to him. He tugged at his lower lip with his teeth though perhaps because the evening came crashing back like waves to the shower, what they had done. And yet, for all of that-- he could not feel guilty about it.

Even this morning felt wholesome and warm, and perhaps it was the light coming in through the window that brought out all of the mahogany tints to those dark locks.

"The fact that you do not believe you should have a good night's sleep is indicative that you are a good person." Riley said as if he could twist the system, though he did reach up where his palm cupped that cheek. "But I slept very good, but then I had a pretty good pillow all told."

The fact that Riley had woken up and not immediately recoiled or retreated after what they'd done the night before set something in Liam's mind at ease. He knew that they shouldn't have, but he couldn't find it in himself to regret it anyway, and god... he didn't want to be nothing but a regret, a mistake, to Riley. So he'd take the gift of the other man's lingering by his side, of the way they both seemed content to draw the moment out, to trade gentle touches that were laden with an affection that was unmistakable. He turned towards that hand at his cheek, eyes shut as he leaned into the touch, lips daring to graze along the inside of the other man's wrist.

The next moment he cracked one eye open to look at him with wry amusement. "I'm not sure about your logic on that one, but..." He appreciated it, nevertheless.

He couldn't help a laugh at the next words. "That's right. I'm a man of many talents. Carpentry, French toast making, being a pillow. Uniquely gifted, that's me."

Riley was extremely practical in the fact that he knew that they could not take it back; and that life was full of those moments. Guilt, especially the Catholic kind, was very prevalent but right now with Liam looking at him as if he was something that he did not deserve, a deity or an angel-- well he liked it.

Though his eyes sharpened as he heard the magic words-- 'french toast' and then he tilted his head to the side with an hopeful eagerness. "I did forget about your promise to make me breakfast." he hazarded, which meant that he was hoping that was still on the table.

There were some other things that he wished were still on the table, but he also knew that it would probably be better not to tempt God too much, a stolen moment-- well perhaps the heavens could turn a semi-blind eye to it.

The head tilt, the bright eyes, the soft, luxurious golden hair... he was in love with a golden retriever of a man. Liam had never been so painfully endeared in his entire life. "I will not let you leave until you've properly appreciated my French toast," he assured Riley. It was true.

At his heart, despite what he'd been made to be, Liam was a gentle soul who wanted to take care of the ones he loved. Feeding people was part of that, a habit he'd learned from his mother. As a teen, he'd gotten used to cooking for Trick when their parents worked late or traveled for their jobs. As an adult, well, it was a rarity.

Liam leaned in closer then and, in case it was the last time he was ever afforded the chance, he brushed his lips against Riley's softly. "I'll even make you a dirty chai, since you've been a very pleasant guest." ...yes he remembered what Riley ordered at the coffee shop the first time they'd met face to face. Shush.

The kiss caused a delicious shiver to go through Riley, and while it was so hard to resist pulling Liam down.. he managed to do so, perhaps it was that inner integrity shining through. Though thoughts of pulling Liam down and lazing about in bed a little bit more certain did race through his mind, instead he reached for the first shirt he could find and wiggled so that he could comfortably pull it over his head.

It so happened to be Liam's shirt, and almost instantly he was awash in the scent of the other man.

He thought about pulling back off but somehow? He did not want to. "Is there anything that I can do to help? I happen to be very good assistance in the kitchen."

Liam would not have minded being pulled back into those arms, though perhaps it was better this way, better not to draw it out. But oh he wanted. Instead he slipped from those arms and then from the bed, grabbing up his discarded pants before looking back at Riley at the offer.

"Yeah? All right, I'll take you on as sous chef. You can be in charge of bacon."

Oh no cooking together. All of Liam's secret little domestic fantasies were playing out. How was he supposed to handle this?

"Maurice will demand to quality control, just so you're aware. And that is his job." Maurice was an exceptionally spoiled cat already.

"I think that I can manage bacon." Riley said rather confidently as he wrapped his arms around his torso, the torso that was currently wearing one of Liam's shirts, it fit rather nicely all things told, and Riley had to admit that it smelled really good. "As for Maurice, well it is my job to make sure that the bacon passes muster.. I would hate to fail where our Quality Control is concerned."

And speaking of the devil, Maurice let out a meow to herald his presence as he then very decidedly wound his way around both the men's legs, clearly staking his claim for the two of them.

"I hope that I can do a suitable job all told, I suppose he will let me know when I get it right." which means that maybe all the bacon would go to the cat.

It was not lost on Liam that Riley looked amazing in his clothes, and he rather thought he could get used to the sight -- and to stealing some of Riley's in turn. But, no, that wasn't how this story went, he reminded himself and tried to ignore that pang of longing that shot through him. He didn't have the luxury of yearning, and really, his brother had the entire Leary family's yearning quota handled for generations to come with the painfully obvious crush he had on Nicholas Kirkland.

He was stirred from his thoughts by the arrival of Maurice, rescued from a plunge into melancholy by the clever kitty.

"I have nothing but faith in you," Liam assured him, totally talking about making bacon and nothing else, of course, as he headed off to the kitchen to start pulling out what he needed -- bread, eggs, mile, cinnamon, powdered sugar, maple syrup (the real stuff), butter, bacon.

And coffee. Oh yes, coffee was going to be a must.

Very legitimately did Riley pad out into the kitchen, that is after he pulled on his socks and Liam's pj pants. Then he walked over to to the stove so that he could locate a skillet and then in one fluid motion set it down flat on the burner. "Ah, cast-iron.. I always admire someone who keeps a functional weapon in their kitchen."

That was true, he'd had a skillet for camping though it had been one of those giant ones that could've fit a rasher of bacon as well as 4 eggs all without touching, the Walsh brothers had been rather fond of camping all told and generally did that in the summer.

Yup. There was Riley wearing all his clothes and looking like Christmas morning and his birthday and every sweet dream wrapped into one. Well, fuck him. Really. So maybe Liam let his gaze linger longer than it needed to on the blond, though he grinned as Riley spoke.

"Yup. I'm armed and dangerous." He winked at Riley and started cracking eggs. His expression softened slightly as he continued. "Cooking was a big thing in my family growing up. Mom worked a lot, but we always made breakfast together on Saturdays, the three of us. Well, I mean, Trick was more on the mess-making side of things, but he tried." But his baby brother was five years younger and always determined to be included. It was an adorable disaster.

Having an insight into the Leary side of things growing up? He could nearly envision it, the way that Trick would make a valient attempt, and Liam being very patient with his younger brother as he made utter chaos in the kitchen.

Though it was also hard to imagine it perhaps because who Liam and Trick were now, all family broken parts of them.

"Have you tried inviting your brother out for breakfast one of these days?" He inquired as he placed the bacon on the heated pan, to which point it let out a sizzle that wafted the beginnings of bacon upwards, there was nothing like the scent of bacon in the morning.

Liam whisked in a few shakes of cinnamon into the batter, setting the bowl down and turning his attention to the pan, beside where Riley stood at the stove, taking up another burning, shoulder to shoulder with the blond.

"He doesn't answer my calls or texts anymore. Best I can do is get a few barebones updates from Nicky."

Butter on the heated pan, a quick twist of his wrist to make sure the entire thing was properly greased. Then he started dipping the bread, one piece, then another, another. He risked a glance over at Riley, visibly wincing as he added, "He saw me, Riley. What I do to people... he saw me do it. And honestly, he's better off staying far away from me." Of course, that was true for everyone, including the handsome priest he was cooking breakfast with.

This was the most delicate subjects to have ever been broached but he also knew that there was something deeper within and it hinged just beyond the light; he did not want to overstep but also if he did? Their assignation was done and if he could plant the seed.

It was with a deft gentleness that he suggested the next thing.

"Perhaps one day you should consider telling him the truth-- he has seen but he does not know the reason, and I have found that without explanation one may misconstrue a great deal." The bacon sizzled in the pan and then he put the kettle on-- Liam had a rather nice french press that could be used for coffee.

"Your Demon wants to keep you scared and without a support system-- he has always wanted that I think, and you struggle against that because you grew up prioritizing family and you clearly still do."

To his credit, Liam listened to what Riley said. Something in him trusted the priest more than he usually allowed himself to trust anyone these days, and maybe that was dangerous. But then, wasn't that exactly what Riley was saying? Scared and without a support system, isolated. Yeah, that summed it up.

But there were good reasons for that isolation. He was dangerous by his association with Gregory, by what he did at the demon's behest. There were also much less good reasons for it, including the fact that Liam had a tendency towards martyrdom apparently -- or self-flagellation. Either way, not the best of habits.

His gaze was still fixed on the french toast, flipping each over -- perfectly browned, he noted to himself -- as he considered. "I don't want to put that on him. Trick's the type to take that guilt like a freight train to the heart. He's also the type to launch a one-man war against Hell. ...well, two-man war probably, since, you know, Nicky." Package deal.

Ultimately, Riley knew that he could only suggest and he was not one to steelplow the other man into doing something beyond his comfort level. "Irregardless, if you need me at any time-- I do not mind being your confession booth." it was after all how they first met. A snort at the whole statement with Nicky and Trick being a package deal, yeah he knew that they were rather flagrant in their disgregard for authority.

"Those look good." the bacon was nearly ready and so he flipped them and then moved to very tentatively wrap his arm around that waist and then he leaned in a little to rest his chin on the other man's shoulder.

Call it a goodbye intimacy of sorts. "I think though that your brother is rather formidable, you could do worse than having him on your side to be honest."

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THE REAL STUFF! ILU OMG

I HAVE (CORRECT) OPINIONS ON MAPLE SYRUP OKAY

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