Chapter: 2/3
Word Count: 4246
Pairings: Johnny Worthington III/Randall Boggs, One-sided Johnny Worthington III/Chet Alexander
Warnings: Violence, Old!Monsters, Hospitilization, Emotional Scenes, Trigger Warning: Bullying, Possessive!Johnny, Embarrassment, Freudian Slips, Sexual Themes
AN: So, here's part two, finally. I feel kind of bad it's taken this long. Dx Sorry guys. Anyway, this one has some feels in it, you have been warned.
13 is written in Randy's POV, and features them way older. I don't know monster aging, but I assume they'd have to retire eventually. 19 is also written in Randy's POV.
I also have a headcanon, shown in number 16, that Johnny is actually a fairly good artist, something his father thinks is silly and whimsical; too impractical for a Worthington.
18 is a humanized AU, where they don't know each other, yet. I thought it would be interesting.
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Part Two: Kisses Eleven Through Twenty ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
011. Slight Discolouration
The world was spinning, the ground was over his head, and the last thing he remembered was seeing a clenched claw before he blacked out as his body hit the ground, limp.
Randall couldn't remember what the fight had been about, except that it had to do with Johnny and what 'right' he had to be with a guy like him. Randall may not have come from special breeding, he may not have been the best monster out there, but he deserved Johnny because he made it so. Either way, when the slithery monster woke up the next morning, he was in the infirmary, his eye swollen until he couldn't open it and the scales around it a darker purple than usual to show his bruising. His body was bruised in other places, and he would occasionally disappear out of sheer pain, only to find that the bruises gave him away.
His first visitor brought flowers; red lilies that sat by his bedside and made him smile a little when he realized Mike still cared. But what really drove him to a smile was the fact that a large, purple orchid sat on the other side of his bed, staring at him with a pretty stem that reminded him of himself. There had been one monster to compare him to an orchid, and it had been none-other than his boyfriend, Johnny; the man he'd been fighting over.
"I have to see him, alright? I'll be quick." The thick, confident purr of that familiar voice brought Randall out of his stupor and he looked to the door, where his horned lover stood holding yet another bouquet of flowers, along with a box of chocolate cupcakes that he had obviously bought and scrawled with extra icing 'get well soo'. It was assumed the 'n' had been eaten on the way, judging by the smears of chocolate on the elder male's lips.
"Thought you might like a little pick-me-up." Johnny offered softly, though the discoloured purple of his younger lover was a bit concerning. He had already taken care of Chet, but still... It hurt to think that he had to nurse the other back to health from something that had been started over him. "Brought some flowers, chocolate cupcakes, and me, of course." Winking at the injured monster, he placed his gifts down before leaning in to carefully kiss the other's head spines, nuzzling them before sighing, "He's in huge trouble, you can be assured of that..."
012. Uproar; Chaos; Disturbance
There was always a level of tense anxiety in the house when Johnny arrived at Randall's room to find the lizard-like creature missing. He'd stomp around the house, a silent terror, disturbing studying and partying alike and leaving a trail of broken questions and perturbed glares in his wake. The little growl that would rise in his throat at the mere mention of Randy's absence was nearly commonplace, at this point, and did little more than make his fellow fraternity brothers leave him be.
Finally, as his quests to find the young Boggs would usually lead him to the kitchen or the basement, he would approach carefully, with the same dainty sneak he used during his scaring trials, and just watch the slighter male for a few long moments. It didn't take long after that before he wanted to see if he could put as much of a fright into the longer monster that he'd suffered during his entire search.
The mighty roar that followed was usually enough to earn a yelp from Randy, who would usually end up tossing his painstakingly prepared baked goods into the air. Of course, this usually had only one outcome; an enraged shriek stopped only by a swiftly placed, silencing kiss to those frowning lips.
"I've been looking for you everywhere…" The soft, concerned tone brought a small smile to the smaller monster's lips.
"You know I'm always working downstairs…" Randy's little quip always wanted to hold more bite than it did, and he finally offered a toothy grin. "You nearly ruined my souffles, Johnny. Now, you have to help me make new ones."
Another peck shared by the lovers framed their next hour and a half; Randy trying to show the other how to cook, and Johnny simply looking puzzled and trying to get to touch as much of the chameleon as he could.
013. Ramshackle
"This one's always been my favorite." The reverent way in which he speaks sparks my curiosity more than anything. A clawed hand, strong and yet graying slowly, gently rakes over the wood of the door (Pine, fresh and never stained… he notes with a sort of pride), and he smiles at me in that telltale way that means I'm about to learn something more. Over the years we've been together, I think I've learned more from him than I ever could have in school… And more than just about how to scare children.
All of my hatred and want to destroy James Sullivan dissipated, thanks to my own plans being thwarted, and to the comforting embrace I was able to crawl into at home. Johnny had always been there for me, even if he wasn't always willing to show it in public. Anymore, it's so commonplace that we hardly see a shift between home and public. Ever since his father passed, things had been simpler, as well, because he wasn't forced to live a life he didn't want to.
"Why is it your favorite?" I ask, perhaps just humoring the aged monster beside me, or maybe because he seems to have lost himself in thought instead of telling me what was on his mind.
"Why don't you come in with me, and I'll show you?" The sadness in his amethyst eyes bothers me, and I realize belatedly that he's probably showing this to me because this door needs to be retired… Much like what they told him just this afternoon.
"Alright…" When he opens the door and steps inside, I follow… And frown at what I see. The walls are shoddily wallpapered, with peeling paint and a large crack in the ceiling. Scuffed floorboards creak unnaturally loudly in the deafening silence, and I glance up at him with squinted eyes to see what this room holds for him. The way he gazes at it, you'd think he could envision everything from the first time he'd stepped inside; the child in his or her bed, the toys scattered on the floor, the smell of fresh paste and paper in the room, floor polish… But when he snaps out of it, a frown falls over his face and his brows knit together, just as bushy as ever.
"This room… Is the first room that I ever successfully collected scream energy from." I hear an alarming snap in his words as his voice cracks, and I place two hands on his arm. He continues, as if I give him strength, and I can't help but try and envision what it was like as I cast my eyes around the room. It's falling apart at the seams, and I can't imagine that the rest of the house is much better. A glance out the window tells me that the humans are demolishing the house… And, with it, the first scare Johnny had ever made when he started working at Fear Co.
"Tell me about it, love." I say softly, as though I'm a child expecting a bedtime story. Crawling slowly up his body, feeling my own bones cracking and muscles protesting the sudden and choppy movements, I give a soft sigh as I finally curl around the back of his neck, head on one side of his face and tail on the other.. This always used to be so much easier… I'd done this since the beginning, and even still it was a comfort for both of us.
"Well…" He starts, and soon his mouth is opening and nothing but the fog of the chill night air leaves him. Finally, he clears his throat as a tear trickles down his cheek; I feel it before I see it, and it has me looking up to be sure he's okay. Words fall dead in his throat as he chokes back an obvious sob, and closes both eyes, tears slipping onto his graying fur and melding with the soft locks underneath his eyes. Lower lip quivering just a moment, he sucks in a deep breath before forcing himself to speak.
"My first target was an eight year old boy, who was afraid of spiders and wind storms. He was blonde, with big blue eyes, and at the time I had thought he was too easy to scare. He started out as a bedwetter, and when I left him I could hear his parents coming… They sounded like he'd done that often. Over the years, though, he began to grow and mature and… I remember the last day I was able to scare him like it was this evening. I moved on to his baby sister shortly after. She was just a little, tiny thing when it all started…"
I can hear pride melding with the pain of this place being destroyed in his voice, and he seems more than ready to hand over more memories to me.
"Go on." I coo into his ear, and he smiles softly, chuckling.
"Well… I scared every child that moved into this house from my first day onward. After Andy and Charlotte, it was Timothy, then Louisa, Jenny, Tammy and Serah, then Mitchell and Michael, and finally… Byron. I watched every one of them as they grew up and then I couldn't see them anymore… And they thought I was nothing but a figment of their imagination." The conversation was certainly taking a turn I hadn't anticipated.
"What if I just fade away?" It was always a question that you could hear from older monsters, but it somehow felt like a mangled, crushed version of the Johnny that I had grew to love all these years. With a gentle press of lips to a large tooth, and then a soft, nearly leathery pair of lips, I offer a soft smile.
"You're father would be proud of you, love. You've done more than deliver on the Worthington name, and I can guarantee you won't be forgotten, even if you're a retired monster. There are no monsters that can compare to the fearsome scaring techniques of Johnny Worthington."
Seeming content with this answer, he smiles at me before everything suddenly stills. The sound of breaking boards downstairs alerts us that someone is coming, and as the stairs begin to creak, likely with teenagers by the sounds they make, we scurry back through the door. I remain around his neck as we make our way from the off-limits section of doors.
014. Foggy Day
"I can't see two feet in front of my face…" Randall groused softly, squinting his eyes a bit more than usual as he tried to peer into the dense fog that had shrouded the football field.
"You can't thee two feet in fronna your fathe motht dayth." Came the equally grumpy reply of Chet, who held up both claws when he was threatened by Johnny with a punch to the face.
"Be nice, Children." That smooth tone warned, a vicious hydra swimming just beneath the smooth surface as a fair warning that Johnathan J. Worthington was not to be taken lightly, especially today of all days. "We can't be letting ourselves get fat and content this far into the Games, gentlemen. With only two more rounds before the final game, we need to work on keeping up our stamina."
I think I'm pretty good at that… The dismal thought bubbled in Randy's head as he sighed a little, unable to see very well (worse than usual), and limping just noticeably enough. Another loud declaration that Randy should go first and have to do the entire course (set up magically by Johnny it would seem) in less than fifteen seconds, or be banished to the basement for a week, and the crablike monster was suddenly running the course just as quickly as his legs would carry him. While Chet was busy, Johnny smirked slightly and gestured with his head for his lover to come closer.
"Boggs." He stated curtly, and the slighter male slithered on over, crawling up his arm and looking at him slowly. What he didn't expect was the sudden, sharp bark of, "Chet!"
As soon as that eye settled on them, a deep kiss landed itself on Randy's lips, and the thin frown parted before he could even realize it happened. Licking at his lips, and, in turn, Johnny's, the two shared a rather eye-popping kiss that left the crab-monster grumpily finishing the obstacle course and giving a sound 'harrumph' as he did so.
Pulling back, Johnny gave a rather cruel grin before whispering, "Go." Seconds later, Randy was off, and there was a rather swift order for Chet to race the purple and blue creature already barrelling through the obstacles with ease.
015. In Miniature
"You were so cute as a baby, Randy…" The chuckle in Johnny's voice was barely hidden with his high-pitched cooing, meant to tease and embarrass the younger male. "Look at you, all stuck in a tree because you were wrapped too tightly in it." This time, his violent laughter couldn't be held back and he bellowed joyously for several long minutes before his boyfriend snatched the baby book away from the other's lap.
"You don't have to be a jerk, babe," The last word was strained almost painfully, and Randall finally rolled his eyes. "Just because I was too long for my mind when I was a baby doesn't mean I can't handle it, now."
"I know, I know…" Finally, the laughter died down and Johnny used a claw to wipe at a few tears in his eyes. Smirking slightly at the smaller, he brought him closer and kissed him with a clawed hand on his jaw, making the younger a tad nervous. "You're just fine the way you are, but as a baby your body was so big… And you weren't."
"I know… I'd still say I grew into it… It's not so awkward, anymore." Another kiss silenced any further explanation, and it seemed a good enough time to forget about his baby pictures while Randy's mother was still out of the room.
016. Mesozoic
"Boggs." Johnny stated one night after dinner in the ROR house had concluded, "My room, now." He was often demanding around the other guys, and Randy had gotten rather used to it.
"Yes, Johnny?" Finally entering the room after making the taller monster wait a whole five minutes, the reptilian monster slithered on in and to the bed, where he made himself comfortable and sat down. Johnny sat at his desk, pouring over a piece of paper, shading and working on one of his secret hobbies; Art. He seemed to be adding shading to a particular drawing, before finally sitting up and glancing to the salamander-like creature on his bed.
"C'mere, Boggs." He crooked a clawed finger towards himself, and Randall made his way over, before poking his head up and looking at the picture.
A creature with a long spine on the back of its head rest on the page, shaded and appearing to be drinking water. It's likely something like this was done from memory, but it still didn't look like anything he'd seen in his life.
"What is it?"
"It's called a Parasaurolophus. It's a dinosaur, from what I understand…" The elder monster smirked a little, seeming quite happy with that thought. "And you kind of look like them."
Looking at the elongated muzzle, the stupid, dopey look on its face, and the large hump of a back, Randall bristled a little.
"I'm not that ugly."
"That's not what I meant, Boggs…" Chuckled the Worthington heir, as he ran a soothing hand over the other's spines, "I mean… I think that they are like you are, and I wanted you to see them." Leaning down, he pecked the top of his heated lover's head, and smirked when he flinched a little at the contact.
"I'm still not that ugly…" He muttered, earning another chuckle and kiss.
"No, Randy, no you aren't."
017. How Do You Spell That Again?
"Randy?" Breaking the previously companionable silence with a soft question, Johnny squinted slightly down at the workbook in his lap. "How do you spell adscititious?"
Glancing up from his curled up position in the other's lap, he smiled slightly as he spoke sleepily, "A-D-S-C-I-T-I-T-I-O-U-S. Adscititious."
"Geez, Boggs, we're not in a spelling bee." The elder monster grumbled, having only managed to get the first couple letters down on his crossword puzzle. This was the last time he would try to do one of the super hard ones his father insisted on getting him. These words were ridiculous! For the clue, he could have simply put down 'additional', but no, that wouldn't fit. After staring at it for a few moments, hearing Randy's soft chuckle turning into a sleepy grunt, he finally spoke again.
"How do you spell that again?"
With a soft grunt, followed by laughter, Randy slowly picked himself up and crawled between Johnny's chest and his workbook. Kissing the other to distract him, he took the pencil and turned to find 24. Down, before writing it out for the other.
"Be sure to remember to go over your answers in pen, babe." The near chortle on his breath nearly got him hit, and he scurried away, "Why don't you come to bed? It's late, and I have class in the morning."
After Johnny graduated, he made sure to get a home close to campus so that he and Johnny could still see each other. Halfway through the younger's junior year, he was asked to move in, and by now everything came so naturally to them both.
"Fine, fine." With a soft smile, he set down the unfinished crossword and rose, following the lead of his sleepy lizard companion.
018. Mercy and Hospitality
Lightning bolted across the sky, twining and twisting like electric snakes seeking burrows in a fit of confusion. Seconds later, their booming cries of anguish thundered through the area, making the pebbles jump on the cobblestone streets beneath dragging feet. Clouds ripped themselves open, pouring their life's blood from the heavens on the unassuming streets below, drowning rats and people alike as they tried to find shelter from the storm.
One such creature, a pale and sickly looking thing, crawled on his belly from an alleyway, glasses broken and face already swelling from where he'd been hit. The poor thing had been on his way home, and gotten mugged in the nicer part of town for once. He was used to getting jumped and told to hand over all he had, but today was different. Today had been a malicious, violent attack that had left him bleeding and bruised, his leg twisted in a grotesque fashion that left him wincing in pain every time he inched forward.
A single beam of light broke through the gloom like a beacon of hope, and if he could only get closer, just a little bit more… He'd be safe, he just knew it. An open door, a person standing inside… It was simple, and he hoped they would help. Barely managing to crawl closer, he finally looked up at the man, his own green eye filled with tears and rain and fear, before uttering one small, tiny little word.
"Help." It wasn't so much a question as a statement before he fell, unconscious, onto the steps of the fancy brick home. The man who had watched as the slighter male approached didn't seem to be completely heartless, at least, moving down to pick him up and carry him inside. Drying off his new house guest and making sure that the tiny man was warm and safe, he began to call on what little medical knowledge he had to splint the other's leg.
When the smaller man finally woke, squinting with his one good eye, he found an icepack on his bruised eye, and new clothes on his body. He was warm and dry, laying on a loveseat that overlooked a roaring fire. To his left, a man read a newspaper by the light of the fireplace, going on to the next page when he noticed the movements of his newly awakened house guest.
"Ah, you're finally awake." He smiled, seeming rather happy with that, "My name is Johnathan Worthington III, but you may call me Johnny. Tell me, friend, do you know what happened to land you in such a rough spot?"
Slowly scooting up to sit on the loveseat with his left leg up and the right one hanging off the seat, he blushed slightly as realization struck him and he realized just how attractive the other man was. "M-my name is Randall Boggs, but you could call me Randy, everyone does. U-um… I was mugged on my way home from college, and… I apologize for passing out on your porch, but-"
"Don't worry so much about it." The room seemed to fall into a bit of a fog as Johnny's next words left him, "Just say that you owe me a favor, Boggs."
"H-huh?" Was the room spinning, or was it just him? Green eyes widened as much as possible as he watched the other get up, setting his paper in his chair, and moved to him. Placing a gentle, long kiss on his lips, the two fell into a slow sync of calm, seductive kisses.
"Boggs!" It wasn't for a few moments that Randall heard his name and suddenly his vision cleared, the scene he'd thought he was in replaced with what was actually happening.
"Y-yes? Sorry…"
"You must have a concussion… Well, you can stay with me if you need for a few days, at least until I can be sure you will be alright. I'm involved, now, and I'd hate to send home someone who can't even walk."
And it was with this decision that Randall knew he would be in for a few long days.
019. Solopsist
Sometimes, Johnny will spend hours looking at himself in the full-body mirror in his room. He'll strike poses, practice smiling and smirking, chuckling, speaking, and even his growls and roars. It can take hours for him to finish preening and preparing to do something, and when he finally finishes, he expects everyone to dote on him and tell him how amazing he is.
I think that's why he likes Chet. The little suck-up is always ready to provide him with ass-kissing comments about how great he is. I could do that… I do that, and still he won't show any kind of care for me.
I don't know what to do half the time. He'll call me Boggs, and order me around, and I'm in with the coolest kid on campus… And still, I feel empty.
But it isn't all bad. My favorite thing with Johnny is when he kisses me. His kisses send fire down every nerve ending, and we usually end up naked in his bed before we realize what's happening. I guess he has every right to have such an egotistical outlook on life… He is topdog, wherever he goes.
020. Life Cycle of a Fire
Burning. Everything that Johnny's clawed hand scraped over was burning with want and desire, those green eyes blown nearly black by wide pupils as they looked up at him, desperate to have anything they could be given. Eight pairs of limbs shuffled and moved, gripping and moving out of the way and pulling and needily tugging at clothes, and two strong arms held the frantic creature close for a moment, whispering calming words into his ear. This stage, the ignition, was always a favorite of Johnny's, because Randall finally let go of himself and sometimes he'd even beg.
When the clothes disappeared (so they wouldn't get ruined), the reptilian monster would shove his hips closer to the elder male, kissing desperately at his lips and teeth, his head just about big enough to fit into the other's mouth. The blazing flame ignited in both would join just as soon as he was entered for the first time, and he'd give a lot howl of pleasure as their arousal combined and shot through the roof. It was enough to burn down the room around them, the passion that blazed through their bodies.
The explosion was always Randall's favorite part. His own cries of pleasure were drowned out by a nearly earth-shuddering roar from his lover's throat as they found their climax in unison, pressed tight to one another and not wanting to let go.
Finally, the soothing touches and cooed whispers of love hit, the embers that kindled the fire in their hearts and not just their groins. Nobody really expected it, but Randall loved to cuddle up with his furry lover, getting closer to him and curling on his large chest, happy and comfortable, becoming a bit of a long, thick scarf over the other's neck. He loved to lay on and bask in the warmth of the other's body after these things, and he happily would fall asleep as the embers died out and the two relaxed into their loving embrace.
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