bakerstreet | The slowest burn is the most painful

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[meme] shipping

The slowest burn is the most painful

Arranged Marriage Turned More

To have and to hold, you said, till death do us part, all while the sharp, swinging pendulum of obligation hung overhead. But how could you have truly meant those words? This union has been tainted from the start, forever bearing the chains of an arranged marriage. It would be understandable if you couldn't bear to look at your new life partner, eternal reminder of your stolen future that they are, much less like them.
Much less love them...

Still, things can change.

You could realize that they are in the same boat as you or, that when compared to others around you,
they are the lesser of evils. Perhaps you even open up to the idea of a friendship; at the very least,
an alliance may be in order to become a power couple in a perilous world. From that innocent decision or sense of self-preservation, a new feelings sparks. Something like affection.

Something, you realize in the wake of speeding heartbeats, like love.

Will you acknowledge this? Can the two of you have a happily ever after - happier than if you'd met in another fashion - or will you hold firm in your distaste?

how to play.

- Everybody loves "couples forged by less-than-ideal circumstances" tropes!
- Comment with your character, prefs, all that good stuff.
- Reply to others.
- IDEC where you set your threads, it's wide open. Fantasy world with hairy hobbits, old-timey lands, future AUs, do a space marriage for all I care. I'm sure they're still getting married in Star Wars or whatever.

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"This dream salve?" Adam asks. He accepts the invitation, running his fingers along one of Ronan's arms, mapping out the array of scars there. He'd noticed them before, but hadn't drawn any conclusions. There were multiple possibilities.

He turns his hand and opens his fingers to reveal the small crystal jar. Ronan watches the way Adam touches him, still fighting his own desire to touch, to give Adam the freedom to do what he wanted. While he was a rough sort, had a reputation for violence, he could be submissive when it was needed. Adam needed that now. Ronan was happy to remain still for him.

"What are you thinking?"

Puzzled when Ronan opens his hand to reveal a jar, Adam takes it, opening the jar and sniffing at it. It smells like moonlight a forest glen filled with night-blooming flowers, and Adam's never smelled anything quite so soothing. He can almost believe Ronan's story about being given it in a dream. "I'm thinking that you're weird for waking me up in the middle of the night with a gift," he says, but he dips his fingers into the salve and then smooths it down Ronan's arm.

"In all fairness you were on my mind keeping me from really sleeping." Ronan looks at what Adam is doing, mesmerized by the way Adam's delicate fingers smooth the salve into his skin. Strong and elegant. It doesn't take long, a minute or two, and the angry scars start to look more flat and less discolored.

"You're a flirt," Adam accuses, but he's smiling. He's sleepy, and his hands slow and his attention drifts a bit as he smooths the salve into Ronan's skin, but he notices how the scars seem to fade, minimizing, and he sits up a little, thinking that he must have imagined it. He's tired.

"Effective stuff," he comments, putting the lid back on the jar and holding it for Ronan to take.

"So are you. Keep it up." He gestures to his chest and torso. "I like how you were touching me. Soothing." Ronan lifts his arm and examines the scars that are fast fading. "Can I try it on you?"

"What will I do without the rugged charm of my scars?" Adam asks, hiding his nerves behind the humor. "Seems a bit like lying." With the scars, at least it's clear on the outside that he's a broken thing.

"Do you have to carry this with you forever? It doesn't have to be who you are. Someone else did this to you." He wants to touch him so badly, especially now. But he holds back. "I think you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. But, you don't think that. You can't see it. It's not a lie, it's letting yourself heal."

Adam's very surprised by the degree of Ronan's regard. He wouldn't have expected anyone to find him beautiful at all, ever. He studies Ronan's eyes, cheeks heating and heart fluttering at the honesty and regard he sees there. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"Of course I do. How could I not?" It wasn't just about looks. Ronan keeps watching him. "I've seen how you treat the people that help around here. Offer them drinks in the heat. Ask if they need anything to eat. Apologize for getting in their way. You smile and laugh only when you really mean it." Now it's his turn to blush. "Plus, yeah, you're fucking hot."

It still seems too impossibly fortunate that Adam's husband cares about him and wants to protect him. Wants to love him.

The blush is cute, and Ronan's words are moving, so Adam can't resist pressing a soft kiss to Ronan's cheek, tucking himself closer against Ronan's chest and curling a hand around the side of Ronan's neck to keep him close. "You're also fucking hot," he murmurs.

"You okay if I put my arms around you. Or you gonna keep torturing me by being this less and not being able to really feel you?" Not that he hated it. Actually he found it kind of sexy the way Adam touched him but he never touched back.

"Go ahead," Adam murmured. A nervous tremor went through him, tensing up a little in anticipation of touch, but he kept himself pressed close against Ronan, wanting the love and care he offered.

He was careful, sensing Adam's nervousness. His arm was laid lazily over his hips, hand resting lightly on the small of his back. One day he could only hope Adam would trust that he would never hurt him. A firm believer in sin, he knew that hurting this boy was definitely sinful. Shifting just a little bit closer his nose was close enough to bump against Adam's, just barely. His eyes were bright in the darkness of the room but happy and alive. "You smell really good."

"You gonna let me sleep now?" Adam asks, bumping his nose just barely against Ronan's in return. His breath is still quickened, nerves fluttering in his belly, and he shifts his hips a little to hide the instinctive reaction his body has to the warmth and pleasure of being held by an attractive boy his age. His husband.

"Fuck no." His voice husky and raw. Ronan wants him. Wants anything he can have from him. His arm hugs him and he sighs softly. "Fuck, I want to kiss you."

"So greedy," Adam teases, smiling. He tempts himself with the thought of it, imagining what it would be like to kiss Ronan, to feel those arms shift around him, hands sneaking up his shirt. He aches with wanting it, but the nerves are there, too, and this is already a lot for him. Nestling close and tucking his face against Ronan's shoulder, Adam closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep.

Ronan lays there still and quiet. For a minute. Then he snorts out a laugh. "Are you fucking fake sleeping to avoid kissing me!?"

"Correlation is not causation," Adam replies sleepily. "It's the middle of the night and I'm not kissing you."

Shifting just a little, Adam playfully pinches Ronan's side. "Go to sleep."

"Best time of day is the middle of the night." Ronan catches his hand and brings his fingers to his lips. "Make me."

"Sleeping pills?" Adam asks blithely. "I'll invest in some." Ronan's flirtations make his heart flutter, but Adam feels overwhelmed by it. It's too much too suddenly, and Ronan keeps pressing for more. "Are you always so bad at taking no for an answer?"

He squirms in Ronan's grip, feeling nervous with the way that Ronan keeps pushing, and tries to tug his hand back.

"Not as bad as you are at taking a joke." Ronan muttered. He dropped Adam's hand, letting it go the second he felt him tug. Taking a deep breath he flopped over in the bed facing away.

Sleeping pills. Good idea. He tugged open the drawer of his end table and finds a couple of pills that he swallows dry. It doesn't take long and he's out cold.

Watching Ronan's back, Adam finds himself smiling. He sympathizes with Ronan's wounded pride, and finds it endearing, and he's glad that Ronan backed off so that he has a little more space. Nestling against Ronan's back again, Adam drifts off to sleep, feeling safe and warm in his husband's company.

Thanks to the pills Ronan sleeps like the dead. After the exhaustion from the last two days he sleeps until his body naturally wakes. When he does finally rise he is up and out of the bed, not pausing to check on Adam. Wounded pride still aching in his chest. He showers and changes the bandage on his forehead, which has now blossomed a dark bruise that spreads from his eyebrow to his eye. His fingers don't throb like they did when it happened so he unwraps them and flexes his fingers. Swollen but not bad. Stripping down he jumps in the shower and stands with his eyes closed under the rainfall showerhead in the middle of the shower.

Ronan leaves the bed like he's fleeing from him, which Adam supposes is only fair. He did try to tell Ronan that he was unlovable, and now it's been proven.

Adam's fingers stray briefly over the warm spot on the bed where Ronan had been, and then he gets up and gets dressed, heading down to the kitchen to find breakfast.

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