Fairy: Chapter Eight

They reached Merry’s house and Quinn followed Merry up the steps of the porch to the front door.

Merry dug the house key from his pocket and shyly glanced up at Quinn, nervous. He’d never had a friend over and certainly not a boyfriend. Or a non-boyfriend as the case may be. “Um, if-if you can’t be my boyfriend, then what are we?”

“We be friends.”

“I know, but we like each—”

Quinn silenced him with fingers to his lips. “Say naught aloud, me Merry,” he whispered.

“’K,” Merry breathed, a bit dazed. Man, Quinn’s touch did something to him. It was as if even his mind could tingle. “Do you want to, um, come in?”

Quinn smiled, his brilliant green eyes filling with mischief. “What ye think?”

Merry giggled and his cheeks heated. He wasn’t used to laughing, let alone giggling like a girl, and it embarrassed the heck out of him.

Quinn chuckled softly. “I like to hear ye laugh.”

Merry giggled again. “It’s not a laugh,” he said lamely. It took three tries before he was able to insert the key into the lock. How freakin’ typical. He finally managed to open the door and stepped inside, tripping over the doorsill in the process.

Quinn caught Merry with a firm grip on his arm before he face-planted into the worn carpeting. “Ye be a right moppet, ye be.”

Merry withdrew his arm from Quinn’s grasp and set his backpack on the coffee table. “Which one?”

“They be more than one?”

“Ah, yeah, quite a few Muppets^®.”

Quinn went to the front window and opened the curtains with panache. Dust filled the air as afternoon sunlight filled the room. He waved it away. “Be a century since ye let sunshine in?”

Merry sneezed twice. “It’s been a while.”

“Mbeannaí dhuit.” Quinn moved to the second window, did the same, and dust billowed in the air again. “Ye need sunshine in ye life, Merry. Open ’em every day.”

Merry rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, okay. What’s many-gwit mean?”

“Bless ye. C’mon.”

Quinn walked down the short hallway, and Merry idly wondered how Quinn was confident in where he was headed when he'd never been in his house before.

Merry entered his room as Quinn opened the curtains above his bed. Merry sneezed again, reached for a tissue, and knocked the box off the milk-crate desk. He bent to pick it up, smacked his head on the corner of a crate, and couldn’t prevent the soft “ow” that escaped him.

“Ye be as clumsy as a drunken gnome,” Quinn said as he picked up the tissue box and set it on the offending milk crate.

Merry sighed. What could he say? It was painfully obvious he was uncoordinated in the extreme. He sat on the edge of the bed, blew his nose, and threw the tissue—missing the trashcan in the corner of his room. He hadn’t expected to hit it.

Quinn picked it up, put it in the trashcan, then sat on the bed beside him. “Ye room always be neat as a pin?”

Merry nodded, suddenly nervous again. He was sitting on his bed. With... Quinn.

Quinn chuckled softly as he drew Merry into his arms and fell backward on the bed bringing Merry with him.

Merry ended on top of Quinn and he couldn’t roll off Quinn fast enough. In doing so, his elbow connected with Quinn’s chin, a shoe tangled in the blanket, and he fell off the bed. He hit the floor with a dull thud, bruising his sore side anew. He mentally shook his head in disgust. He was more of a liability to his wellbeing than Rick was.

Quinn laughed outright as he turned onto his side and peered over the edge of the bed at Merry. “Ye be fierce in ye awkwardness, mo chroi.”

Merry’s cheeks may as well have gone up in flames. He had no idea what to say or do, and he was terrified the blanket would turn into another toilet paper situation. With his luck, the blanket would come alive and try to eat him, and Quinn would have to rescue him from that too. He kicked at it angrily, trying to dislodge his foot, and Quinn reached down to help him.

Mistake. Merry’s foot connected with the side of Quinn’s face.

OHMYGOSH!

Quinn burst into laughter. “Blessed be, Merry! Be still!”

Mortified, Merry froze. “S-s-sorry.”

Quinn only laughed harder as he dislodged Merry’s foot, pulled his tennis shoes off, and set them by the bed. He sat up, pulled his own shoes off, and set them next to Merry’s. “C’mere.” Quinn lifted Merry as if he weighed nothing and brought him back onto the bed. He settled Merry beside him, with Merry’s head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

Merry tried to turn onto his back and almost fell off the bed again. Quinn caught him in time to keep him from falling, but his lower half still did a slow slide off the bed until he hit the floor again.

Quinn broke into a full-bellied laugh. “Goddess preserve us. Why layin’ on ye bed be such an impossible feat for ye?”

Merry was defensive and beyond embarrassed. “It’s n-not.” He tried to stand, his socks slipped on the polished wood floor, and he landed on his rear with a soft grunt.

Quinn rose from the bed and stood over him, shaking his head. “Hold ye whist, Merry,” he said through another laugh. “Be still. Don’t move a finger.” He bent, lifted Merry, and set him gently on the bed. “Ye think ye can manage to lie back without breakin’ somethin’ or I need help ye with that, too?”

Despite utter humiliation, Merry let out a small laugh. “No, I’m good,” he said as he lay back against the pillow with his hands tucked safely to his chest.

Quinn nodded his approval. “Now, put ye arms and hands at ye sides.”

Merry complied.

“Now, we be makin’ a bit o’ progress. Hear now, no matter what happen, ye not move a muscle. Ye take me meanin’?”

Merry nodded.

Quinn pulled his T-shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor.

Ohmygosh! Quinn was half naked! Merry’s breath sped, and his heart began to dance in his throat.

With a wary look at Merry, Quinn climbed onto the bed and carefully lay on his side next to him. His long red hair cascaded around them and cocooned them in warmth and sweet smell. Quinn smelled of flowers, and cinnamon, and his own brand of musk. Merry began to squirm, certain one final indignity of epic proportions would take him, and he’d die right there on the spot.

“Whist, Merry.” Quinn looked down at Merry, his emerald eyes bright with silent laughter. “Why ye think ye body be public enemy number one and ye must use all manner of force to contain it?”

Merry found his voice and dragged it out kicking and screaming. “Ohmygosh, I can’t believe you said that!”

Quinn chuckled. “Well, ye do. I be fearful what ye do to it with a sword.”

Merry gaped at him.

“Ye be all right?”

He was better than all right. Then realization set in. “You’re doing it.”

“What?”

“You’re making me so I don’t feel bad.”

“Am not.”

“Are to.”

Quinn propped his head on a hand. A small sadness seemed to take the glimmer from his eyes. “Nay, Merry, not be me. Ye begin to grow a wee bit. Ye be so preoccupied with feeling worthless for so long, some of ye maturin’ be left behind. Ye confidence not grow as it should.”

Merry knew he was preoccupied with feeling worthless. Who wouldn’t be with a life like his? He just hadn’t considered that it would mess up his development. Though, being stunted in yet another way didn’t surprise him. “Stunted” may as well be his middle name.

Quinn traced the side of his face with a fingertip and his cheek tingled beneath Quinn’s touch.

“Whist, Merry, stop ye self-criticism.”

Merry reached for Quinn’s hand and held it against his chest. “What’s wisht mean?”

“Hush, calm yeself, be still.”

Merry rolled onto his side to face Quinn and looked into his beautiful eyes. He had a million questions. Questions he couldn’t ask for fear the queen would hear him. He knew he and Quinn were more than friends, but what, exactly, did that make them?

Quinn laughed softly and shook his head.

“You can read my mind,” Merry whispered.

“Every twice in a while.”

Merry mustered his inner strength and thought his question hard. Are we boyfriends?

Quinn winced. “Ye needn’t shout, Merry.”

Merry half-laughed. “Sorry.”

“Ye may think of me as ye wish, mo chroi.”

“Yeah?”

“Aye.”

A boyfriend! He had his first, honest to goodness boyfriend!

Quinn winced again. “Ah, Merry, don’t shout.”

It was Merry’s turn to laugh. “Sorry. That thought was, ah, meant for me.”

Quinn smiled warmly. “If ye wish it, so be it.”

Quinn’s face suddenly took on a surprised and pained look, and he sat up quickly, his face pressed into his hands.

“Quinn?”

Quinn struggled to speak and Merry sat up too. “Quinn, what’s the matter? Are you okay?” Stupid question. It was obvious he wasn’t okay. Merry reached to put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him but hesitated when he saw the muscles in his back flex and twitch. “Quinn? Are you gonna—” How do I ask this politely? “—are you gonna change?”

Quinn’s entire body abruptly stiffened, his back arching away from Merry as if he were in pain.

Panic quickly built in Merry’s veins. “Quinn, what’s happening? What is it?”