"I—what?" Able drew back and out of reach. "I thought you wanted to think?"
"Yeah." Lark made that face when he thought something obvious. "That's why I really need a lay right now...or..." His already flushed face reddened all the way to his ears and he started to withdraw. "Or a run. That would work too. I'll go for a run."
"Lark, wait—" although Able had no idea what he meant to say.
"You want to come for a run too?" Lark looked an embarrassed sort of hopeful.
"Stop, please." Able grabbed his shoulders tightly. "Please don't misunderstand me."
Lark went still and raised his eyebrows.
"You caught me off guard." Able tried to collect his thoughts, but they had scattered like cows on the hillside at the first thunderclap.
"Should I have caught you on guard?" Now only one eyebrow was raised.
Able sighed, not that he had much air in his lungs. "Can we please talk about this?"
"Able, I'm not going to be a jackass and push you when you're not ready," Lark said plainly and shrugged under Able's hands.
"Well, what if—what if I could do with some pushing?" Able swallowed. Now Lark was brought up short, and he had a moment to cut through the jungle of nerves for what he wanted—needed to say. "I know it hurts you that I've hesitated so much on this. I'd hate that—if someone clearly wanted me but was ashamed of wanting someone like me, I'd hate that too."
Lark's eyes fell to the ground as he exhaled as sharply as if he'd been punched. His air spent, he silently mouthed something. "Wow," perhaps.
Able released his shoulders and held his face instead, tenderly stroking his cheekbones with his thumbs. "Listen to me: I love you. I'm sorry for how I behaved. Because I love you more than anything or anyone, more than this whole world or whatever the next may be, and I want to be whatever you need me to be."
Lark only stared at the ground.
Able felt he could not catch his breath and his heart continued to race. "So...what do you need me to be?"
"You." Lark lifted his gaze. "I need you to be you. Don't ask me to make you be something you're not."
Able drew a long breath and let it out slowly as he searched for clarity. What was he? Lark carried with him a world that made this one seem desperately arbitrary and cruel in comparison. Not since Able had realized that the universities he saw printed on the title pages of the books he adored were a place had he wanted to belong somewhere else so badly.
Of course he wanted Lark. That wasn't the question. From the moment he'd set eyes on him, even as he huddled beneath bewildering thoughts, Able had known he wanted this beautiful creature. But could he? Could he, like this astonishing person inches away, defy a king to his face? Defy a nation? All the lackluster laws of god and man?
He hadn't an ounce of the strength required. He knew it from the trembling in his bones. From the shallowness of his breath. From the numbness in his face. But he'd never belong to this better world with its better ideas if he placed his faith in his rational fears. And right now, nothing was more terrifying than that.
"How," Able started but needed another long breath to steel himself. "How can I convince you it's nothing like that? That I'm only...nervous and shy?"
"Really?" Lark's eyebrows popped up—no, all of him perked up. "Would it be your first time?"
"Of course not," Able snapped automatically, though the true answer was yes. "...but it would be our first time, wouldn't it?"
"Mm-hm." Lark grinned then shook his head. "You don't have to worry about disappointing me, or scaring me off...relax."
Able swallowed. "I just...want it to be as special as you are to me."
"That's exactly what makes it special!" Lark chuckled and stepped closer so their noses were a breath apart. "The first time between new lovers is always special."
"Yeah, but..." Able looked down, mortified that his nerves were only getting worse. He couldn't even feel his mouth as he mumbled, "I-I don't know how to, uhm..."
"Abllle," Lark groaned but with good humor. "Stop trying to plan it out and just make love with me! This isn't checking steps off a list. This is about finally getting to do to me some of what you were so ashamed you were even imagining. I am right here, under your hands, with no where else I would rather be."
"Yes, that...really takes the pressure off." Able raised an eyebrow, which certainly had no effect at this distance.
"Neh." Lark shrugged then cocked his head to the side. "I'll just take my own advice?" And with a quick tug he had Able's shirt untucked from his trousers then slid his hands up under it.
Able's breath froze as the warm hands traced up his ribs. His heart hammered like it was trying to reach those splayed fingers that were separating his flesh from his cognition. In fact, he needed to feel Lark's eyelashes brushing his cheek to realize how close Lark had gotten.
"Just live in it," Lark whispered, hot breath tickling Able's ear, hands that seemed so large playing their way across his chest. His world shrank to the palms sliding down his belly and finding his belt buckle. Usually tiny sensations felt like earthquakes, so he almost failed to notice that Lark's face was no longer beside his, for he had dropped to a crouch.
"Oh god—" Able finally remembered to breathe. His pants loosened and folded down around his hips, every wrinkle crowding his senses. But the rush of air broke through his paralysis, and he reached out blindly and pulled Lark back up by a fistful of hair. "Please don't suck my cock!"
"What?" Lark's mouth hung agape somewhere amazement and amusement.
"I—" Able tore at his own hair now, while his senses came flooding back to match the pace of his heart rate and breathing. His senses came flooding back to match the pace of his thundering heart
He was in a small room, dimly lit by the winter gray window.
The air was chilly and quiet save for Lark's abashed laughter. He had stepped back and had his hands over his mouth.
"I'm sorry," Able said as his breath finally slowed. "I didn't mean...to...are you all right?"
"Yeah," Lark had yet to compose himself but still wheezed out, "are you?"
Able looked down at his exposed self and wished he had a hole to crawl into. He didn't have the wherewithal to pull his pants back up, let alone say anything. It was all too much.
"Well, one less thing to be afraid of." Lark backed into the wall and slid down it until he was sitting. "You cannot possibly screw that up more than I just did."
"S-so that's it, then?" Able's tired heart sank.
"I can still go for a run." Lark flipped some loose curls back. He seemed to have caught his breath. "Hell, there's a nice, cold lake nearby I can jump into."
"Then I should jump in too," Able mumbled numbly. "Because I do want to be with you. I do."
"I will not attempt to replicate how my heart is singing to hear that." Lark grinned and stretched contentedly. "But you're not ready."
"I-I want to be, though." Able finally pulled his pants back up so maybe he could stop trembling with humiliation. Would he ever be ready? Would he ever be anything?
"But you're not," Lark repeated firmly. "And you're not 'shy,' either. You're scared out of your wits."
Able folded his arms across his chest and tried to think of something to say, but his tongue had shrunk back and his body kept shuddering. That was the truth of it. He was fully clothed again, yet felt completely exposed.
"Love, I don't blame you," Lark's tone aimed for soothing. "Larbantry makes the consequences very clear, and even outside of it, being caught with another man is not for the faint of heart."
"I don't want to be 'faint of heart,'" Able growled.
Lark grimaced, then took a long breath and let it out slowly with his eyes closed. When he opened them again, he gently asked, "Then what are you doing all the way over there?"
"Don't—don't manage me," Able hissed and gripped his arms tightly and squeezed his eyes shut to manage himself. He could go to prison for Lark, he could cross an ocean for Lark, but he couldn't...what, risk a soul he didn't even believe in? What the hell was wrong with him?
"Able, you don't have to prove anything to me. You told me how you feel about me—that was damned brave. Damn brave—and what did I do? I don't even know what to say." This wasn't his fault.
"...you made your feelings quite clear, in your own way." Able shuddered as he inhaled and only shook worse when he let it out again. "If you hadn't, I would never have felt safe enough to admit to anything."
"Then how can I help you feel safe again?"
Able finally tore his eyes from the floor to Lark again. He was sitting against the wall with his elbows propped on his knees while his hands hung uselessly between them. The draw of his mouth suggested he was on the verge of hanging his head just as uselessly. He had laughed when he said he screwed this up, but internally he must be kicking himself bruised and bloody.
So Able gathered his courage, or something that passed for it, and shuffled over to sit down beside him. "I didn't want you to know I was scared. I was afraid it would hurt you or...worse, that you'd think less of me for it."
Lark slid his hand over Able's shoulder and up the back of his neck to ultimately remind Able how shaggy his hair had gotten again by rubbing it in slow circles. Able was about to protest that he was not a dog until he noticed how easily that impulse had come. His breathing had evened out and his neck was unwinding. He turned to meet Lark's patient gaze with wonder.
"I'm a little bemused by how you ranked those," Lark said with half a grin.
Able grimaced and rubbed his eyes. Could he do nothing right?
"Shhh." Lark pulled Able's head down to his shoulder and held him there. When Able let the tension to pull away fade, Lark rested his cheek on Able's head and rubbed his shoulder instead. "Not offended, silly, just interested in you."
It was uncomfortable down here, like being trapped. But Able closed his eyes and waited to see if this would pass like before. Perhaps smaller steps were a better approach than one large leap. He thought a moment about how he'd 'ranked those' and noticed his heart rate ticked up a bit in response. So he took a deep breath and admitted further, "Because I...I think you're a lot tougher than me. Stronger. Not physically, because...well, obviously."
"Obviously," Lark was probably teasing.
"I find you physically impressive too!" Able interjected in case he wasn't. "How couldn't I? Watching you just...move is like—something beyond belief. Yet, it's still not as impressive as when someone is bearing down on you with all of their hate, and you won't be moved. While I..." He was shaking again.
Lark was quiet at that, though he continued to rub Able's arm and shoulder. He finally took a resolved breath. "I haven't worried what you thought of me, and not because I am so resolved to not care. When I say I don't care, it's because I'm not wasting effort on someone determined to only see the dress. But you don't see the dress—maybe you don't see it a little too well."
Lark chuckled, making the world seem to shudder a moment, before sobering again. "...you see me. I've felt for a long while now that you see me for me, the good and bad, and you stuck with me. I am damn sorry I haven't been able to give you that too. Maybe that's where I've been the hesitant one, the hurtful one, standing back and waiting for you to be ready to open up, because...I don't know. What could I say that wouldn't be deflected?"
"Actually I," Able whispered and tried to hold his stomach against the dredging through his innards, "I always felt that-that you could see through me, and I..." He couldn't continue so he swallowed.
"Oh." Lark's head lifted as he leaned it back against the wall. He laughed lightly, as with pleasant surprise. "Well, shit...and duh, I guess. Being seen scares you."
"I don't know what's wrong with me." Even this admission brought a fresh wave of terror. Able shuddered and desperately grabbed for Lark as if he might leave. His knee was closest, so Able gripped the pant leg tightly with both hands as he pleaded, "Can it be both? Can I really be afraid of both?"
"Shhh." Lark squeezed Able around his shoulders closer then traced his white knuckles with his free hand. "No more than what's wrong with any of us, love. You're hurt. People hurt you, so you hide yourself away in a shell where they can't see you. Can't reach you. Shhh—"
Able wasn't calming this time. Either hearing the words or feeling Lark's tender touch across the backs of his fingers or just being pressed up against him...this was just too difficult. Too much.
But Lark confidently carried on. "And that's okay. You don't have to open up to me, though I'll always hope you will someday. I'll always hope, because... Damn, I know this has been used against you and I hate that—but you're brilliant. You're—it's like you're carrying a light with you while the rest of us are stumbling in the darkness, and god, I want to stand in that light with you. I want to see where you've been, follow where you're going. You have so much going on up in your head, and I can't look away, or I'll miss the stray pieces that fall out. And I want to catch every one—every last surprise and insight." Lark took a breath then sighed sadly. "If nothing else, please just believe me."
Able didn't know how to believe someone would admire his intelligence instead of grudgingly finding it useful if they could. Something inside him cracked just from trying, and he found himself pushing the heels of his palms against his eyes. Lark's other hand came up his chest to counter the pressure there, pressure Able hadn't even noticed without his touch.
"It's okay if you can't accept my love," Lark said as he began rubbing Able's chest. "I'll stay because I accept yours. And you won't have to try so hard to be tough, either, because I will beat the living hell out of anyone who comes after you."
The tension in Able's chest continued to wind until Lark's thumb found the center of it and pressed in—hard.
Able gasped, "What are you—" But then the pain broke and a chill followed by a warmth flooded through the spot. Able stilled and watched Lark's fingers hunt out another spot and repeat the process. He almost couldn't find his voice in the swimming sensations to ask, "How are you doing that?"
"Just listening to your body," Lark replied and shrugged. "You should try it yourself."
Able tried to lift his wobbly hand to Lark's, but his vision blurred. His chest shuddered more with each knot that Lark loosened, and a chill rushed down into his belly while a warmth flushed his face. The first tears slid out with a hiccup.
"Yes, like that," Lark soothed—actually soothed, as Able accepted it. Couldn't stop it now anyway.
He didn't sob when he pressed his hands to his face, but instead whimpered. He curled up in a ball and whined pathetically while all the things he thought he'd left behind came flushing out of him. The storms at sea. The general's threats at Lionstone. That damned letter and the dark nights carrying it blindly through the woods. Tanner's boot reducing him to a writhing worm. The windowless cell with the puddle of Vintner's blood. The towering flames consuming the town hall.
There was more. Every time he thought he could catch his breath, there was the headmaster frowning at his essay or his brother was jeering him or those two boys were being removed from the dormitory, love their only crime. There was Lark, his arms bound and surrounded by hostile enforcers, the count screeching for his end.
But Lark's arms were around him now, his legs too, encircling him like the eggshell around the yolk. Outside the wind raced and the darkness roamed, but he was in here, his head pressed to Lark's chest, riding the cadence of his breath, towed along by his heartbeats. Because there was one last thing to flush out, and to his surprise, Able was not sorry to see his solitude off. Another burden he had no need to carry any further.
His shudders died away. His breathing evened out. And he wrapped his hands around the one that held him secure.
"You're okay," Lark murmured, possibly for the hundredth time, as Able had been crying too much to count. But this time it stuck, and he nodded in agreement.
"Sorry about your sleeve." Able sighed and shifted back into his body. His limbs felt strangely loose and unburdened but exhausted as well.
Lark chuckled. "I butchered a deer in this shirt. A little snot couldn't do worse. Hm, speaking of—" He shifted and started to help Able to his feet. "Let's get some food in you, yeah? At least some water."
Able stood and hugged him. He didn't have anything to say, and maybe he didn't need to say anything anyway. He just held the best person in the world a minute before he went with him into the main room.