“After all that, there’s a ‘but’?!” Michael replied, unconcerned that his voice rose higher than Phaedra’s.
Michael’s eyes grew so wide and his expression turned so comical, Ronan couldn’t stop himself from kissing him. “But I’m a bit rusty is all.”
Better rusty than inexperienced. “I get it,” Michael said. “Well, I kind of get it, some of it anyway.” He took a deep breath so he wouldn’t continue to rattle on incoherently. “I’ve been trying to avoid it, been trying to convince myself I know a lot more than I do, but the truth is I’m brand new at this relationship thing, so I’m bound to make a lot of mistakes.” He took in another deep breath, this time smelling the rain that still clung to Ronan’s skin. “Like yell at you because you didn’t tell me you were leaving.”
“I crocked up, Michael, I’m sorry.”
“That means you screwed up, right?”
Ronan nodded. “I’d like to say it won’t happen again, but we both know it will.”
It was Michael’s turn to kiss his boyfriend. “That’s okay, as long as you keep bringing me gifts.”
“That I can promise,” Ronan said confidently. “Mum’s quite wealthy and I have access to her bank account.”
Kissing while laughing was definitely one of the most pleasant sensations Michael ever experienced. “Excellent, let’s always shower each other with presents,” Michael said. “And let’s always be honest with each other.”
Keep kissing him, Ronan, don’t give him any reason to suspect. “I promise,” Ronan mumbled, knowing full well that he was lying. For a second he thought the truth was going to tumble out, that he was going to tell Michael that David was Brania’s father, but he remembered what his mother said. Blimey! Why was he listening to her and not to his heart? Why was he deliberately concealing the truth when he just promised to be honest? Maybe he was rustier at this relationship thing than he thought. Or maybe he just wanted to allow Michael to remain innocent until it was no longer possible. He had plunged him into this new world so quickly, even harshly; why not let him become comfortable, more at ease in his new environment, before changing the rules yet again?
Shaking off a chill, Ronan wanted nothing more than to hold Michael, hold him close, feel his warmth, but for the moment he needed to get away. “I could use a hot shower.” Entering the bathroom, he realized his comment could be interpreted as an invitation, which normally he would have welcomed but at the moment would have interfered with his need for privacy, so he suggested Michael start reading. “The story of the young king made me think of you.”
It was the night before the day fixed for his coronation. Michael smiled and shook his head at the same time. Ronan really does like to imagine that I live on a pedestal, he thought, like I really am something special. Gently, he stroked his neck and remembered the first time Ronan touched him there with his hands, his mouth, his fangs. Abruptly, he pulled his hand away. It could also be precarious living up there on a pedestal. The lad—for he was only a lad, being but sixteen years of age. Hmm, becoming a king at sixteen must be intimidating, scary, kind of like becoming immortal. Lying there, wild-eyed and openmouthed, like a brown woodland Faun, or some young animal of the forest newly snared by the hunters. Sounds like this Oscar Wilde knew what it felt like to be transformed into a vampire. Or more likely that he knew what it was like to fall deeply, unflinchingly in love.
When Michael finished the last line of the short story, he was reminded of why he loved Ronan so much. And the young King came down from the high altar, and passed home through the midst of the people. But no man dared look upon his face, for it was like the face of an angel. The words passed through Michael like waves of emotion, pure and resonant, clinging to his heart and convincing Michael that experienced or not, being in a relationship with Ronan was where he belonged. Being beside this beautiful person who considered him an angel. If that was true, then why was he in one room and Ronan in another?
Ronan didn’t hear Michael enter the bathroom. The shower water was running and he was singing, slightly offkey, some folk song about The First and The Other that his father used to sing to him. He only knew someone was there when the shower curtain was pulled back. “Crikey, Michael!” Ronan cried. “Do you want to give me a heart attack?”
“Vampires can’t have heart attacks,” Michael said. “Can they?”
“No, love, they can’t,” Ronan answered. He then became very self-conscious that he was standing in the shower completely naked except for a few blotches of soapsuds that clung to his body, and Michael was fully clothed. “Is there, um, something I can help you with?”
Michael didn’t hear Ronan’s question. He was growing envious of the soap and the water as they touched parts of Ronan’s body that he believed were exclusively his to explore. Perhaps Ronan thought he looked like an angel, but that didn’t mean he always had to act like one. Tossing his halo to the side, Michael entered the shower and kissed Ronan deeply, the hot water soaking his clothes, his clothes holding on to his flesh, his hands caressing his boyfriend’s hard, clean body.
Now this kind of surprise is more like it, Ronan thought. He no longer wanted to be alone, he no longer wanted to think. All he wanted to do, all either boy wanted to do, was feel.
The next morning, Michael’s feelings were still as strong. However, they weren’t good ones. Staring at the text message on his cell phone, the exquisite sensations he felt during his impromptu shower with Ronan were replaced with the unpleasant rumblings he felt in his stomach when he looked at the five short words that were displayed on his phone’s screen—Have dinner with me tonight. His father didn’t call him for weeks and then he texted him an order? Unbelievable! No, scratch that, completely believable because he considered him an employee, someone who didn’t have any say in their relationship, someone who had to accept him for the jerk that he was. “Can you believe this?!”
Ronan wasn’t sure if he could take another surprise. He was the one who always rose first and had to coax Michael to wake up, not the other way around. Opening one eye, he saw that it was only six A.M. GRUMBLING, HE PULLED THE COVERS CLOSER TO HIS CHIN. “NO, MICHAEL, I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS.”
“Look at this!” Michael shouted, shoving his cell phone in Ronan’s face.
Ronan swatted at the air, hoping the cell phone and even Michael would temporarily disappear, just for another hour. “Later.”
“Have dinner with me tonight!” Michael shouted, pacing the room in nothing put a pair of Ronan’s boxer shorts.
Turning over in a futile attempt to get away from the sound, Ronan had no idea what Michael was carrying on about. “We don’t have to feed for another few weeks.”
“Not you, my father!”
Now Ronan knew he wasn’t going to get any more sleep. Whenever Michael was upset with his father, a very long conversation followed that consisted mainly of Michael ranting and Ronan listening. While Edwige annoyed Ronan, they had a connection that surpassed the typical mother-son relationship. Michael, unfortunately, barely knew his father, and worse still, his father acted as if that was perfectly fine with him. It confused Ronan because before Michael’s mother was even buried, Vaughan swooped in to ask Michael to return home with him. But they never even lived together. He immediately shipped Michael off to Double A, and the two hardly saw each other. Maybe now Vaughan finally realized he’d been acting like a world-class git. Sitting up in bed, attentive and as clearheaded as possible for this time in the morning, Ronan was prepared to discuss the situation. “That’s nice,” Ronan said, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. “Your dad making an effort.” Michael, however, was too furious to have a discussion.
“You call this an effort?! This is just his way of trying to control my life when, you know, it can fit into his schedule.” Ronan started to respond, but Michael continued, “He’s just feeling guilty because he blew me off at Christmas. He thinks he can make up for it now. Well, guess what.” Ronan didn’t even attempt to respond this time. “This is January! Christmas is over!”
Ronan watched Michael pace the room a while longer until the adrenaline started to release itself from his system. He completely understood Michael’s feelings and felt he was totally justified in thinking his father was only trying to make up for past wrongs, but Vaughan was still his father. Sometimes parents act like children, it happens, and when it does, children can either make matters worse or decide to grow up. “I think you should say yes.”
