"Conscience." Sam proposed, while stuffing his mouth with cake. "He must feel some sort of guilt for what he has done in the past." Peter crossed his arms and shook his head in disbelief.
"Jack Merridew and guilt?" He incredulously inquired. "Those are words that do not match." He methodically adjusted his glasses as if that would be the final answer to their dilemma, before he took a sip of his tea. Simon leaned forward over the table.
"I believe I know, friends," He came forth, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "Jack has been part of our choir for such a long time, far longer than anyone else, and I feel as if this has eventually guided him in finding his spiritual equilibrium." He sensibly reflected. Eric's features illuminated at this. He nodded and rubbed his chin, as if he himself was now a sage who possessed all the wisdom of the universe.
"I partially support Simon's theory," He declared. "I mean, Merridew's following a training to become a pastor, right?" He gazed at his friends, some of whom nodded reluctantly. "Well, perhaps he doesn't have a bad conscience," He suggested, pausing for dramatic effect. "But he is obliged to revise his bad reputation." Peter narrowed his eyes at this, then nodded, seemingly giving carte blanche.
"That does sound plausible." He admitted. "Merridew is definitely the type of person who cares about his reputation, given that he has always sought to create an impeccable image in his preferred social circles." He meditated. "What does not add up though," He pursed his lips. "Is that he could have done this any other way, not necessarily by whooping his own mates and ruining his chieftainship among the popular peers."
"To defend our arses, nonetheless." Sam finished his idea, cake smudging the corners of his mouth, as he chewed ungraciously. He turned to the fair boy, who seemed to have mentally separated himself from them, gazing absently out the window. "What do you think, Ralph?"
They all curiously turned to him, as if they suddenly remembered he was there. The fair boy looked lost for one moment, his mind barely having followed their debate, too absorbed into his own troubles. He blinked clueless, feeling their stares crawl up his skin, then fully faced them, nervously passing his fingers through his disheveled pale mop of hair.
"Um," He stammered, scratching at his neck, then cleared his throat. "About what?" His friends gawked at him for a moment as if he was a stranger rather than a friend. Sam sighed in impatience, then took another bite of his cake.
"What do you mean 'about what', we've been discussing this for almost an hour now." He obviously retorted with a mouth chock full of chocolate. "I thought you'd be more interested in why Merridew sacrificed himself for us yesterday in such an honourable manner." He gave a short chuckle at his own wisecrack. Ralph frowned at the fact that Merridew was again at the centre of their conversation. They had been going through this since yesterday, if he recalled correctly. He had fretted himself and lost hours of sleep over it, Merridew's act being the only thing that had occupied his thoughts ever since, even though he was already pretty much acquainted with the mechanisms of Merridew's mind.
"I think you've had enough about it, haven't you?" He inquired worn out. He faced the window again, gaping at his own droopy eyes in the reflection. "You'll probably never find out anyway." He morosely professed. His friends faltered and shared silent befuddled looks at the odd reactions of the fair boy.
"Are you alright, Ralph?" Peter carefully asked. The fair boy wanted to snort, candidly show him that no, he wasn't. He wasn't because they were focusing on a subject matter that he desperately tried to tune out. He wasn't because they were barely missing the main reason Merridew had helped them the other day and because it was frustrating to assist at their deplorable obliviousness, thinking they were getting it right each time a suggestion came up. As if this was a mystery story of great proportions, in which the clue lay right under their noses. Because Merridew's reason was sitting there, with them, at the table. And because he had grown disinterested and tired of their constant attempt to solve a puzzle that Ralph already had it solved.
It was frustrating really, seeing them struggle to put the pieces together, while knowing he had the answer and could not share it with them. Ironically amusing as well. He didn't even pretend to participate in their debate anymore, in order to hide his awareness of Merridew's very thrilling hidden motives. He simply let himself become evidently, painfully indifferent.
"Peachy." He bit out, drowsily observing the rain that fell heavily in small pools on the side of the road, the cars that passed by in a rush, a child who stumbled into a small puddle, wailing as he was being helped up by his mother. The other boys looked at each other in obfuscation, apparently pondering over insisting on finding out the source of the fair boy's apparent misery. Their silent contemplation was interrupted by the door of the shop, which suddenly burst open.
A woman in her late thirties placed her umbrella in the corner, before she made her way to the counter, pulling out dark gloves from her pale, manicured hands. Her elegant attire and tall, proud stance were not the aspects that stood out the most about her, but the wild mane of wavy red hair that fell to her midriff. The corners of her mouth turned upward in a sly grin as she approached the counter.
"Good day, Bertha." She saluted as if she had been acquainted with Peter's aunt for a long time. "Do you have my order?" The other woman shared her smile and eagerly nodded at her.
"Of course!" She retorted. "Who do you think I am?" Bertha inquired in faux displeasure.
"An irritating know-it-all." The redheaded woman lightly taunted, her devious smile strikingly familiar to the boys at the table. Their mouths fell open in awe as Bertha gave a roar of laughter, before she shook her head.
"Still the same bastard, huh," She struck back, before she went to pick up a number of boxes placed on the side of the counter. The redheaded woman carelessly leaned into the display window of the counter, the coarse movement appearing to severely contrast with her elegant outfit for one brief moment.
"You know me." She jested, eyes glinting with mischief. Her tall, slim shape, sharp smile, and wild red hair painfully reminded Ralph of him. Though this woman's features were soft and pleasant, her charming daredevil attitude seemed to be the antithesis of her appearance. She appeared to possess certain roguish manners that didn't entirely fit her social class.
Peter suddenly leaned toward his friends. "My aunt is acquainted with Merridew's mother." He whispered horrified and Ralph thought that it was ridiculous how they hadn't been aware of the fact that their parents might have been familiar with each other, since it was quite a small town that they lived in. He wondered dumbstruck whether his own parents had interacted with Merridew's at certain points in their lives and his father's description of the older Merridew couple resounded in his mind. His parents are quite arrogant folks. Ralph could not entirely comprehend his statement, because what he was assisting at didn't seem to fit the word 'arrogant'. More likely, boisterous.
Bertha staggered to the front with a heavy tower of pastel boxes in her arms and the woman suddenly seemed to remember her purpose there. She stood upright and pushed into the creases of her dark overcoat, trying to arrange it into place and adopt a mannerly conduct once again, before she leaned over to receive the boxes.
"So what's the occasion?" Bertha curiously probed. The woman sighed, her bright disposition slightly waning.
"Just a surprise for my workaholic son, you know." She shrugged. "Trying to make him forget for a bit about his need to be so stern all the time." She leaned forward, feigning exasperation. "Especially since he turned eighteen last week and he utterly refused any sort of celebration." She enunciated, dramatically waving her hand in the air. "I mean, your eighteenth anniversary should be the most important one." She declared. "And William doesn't help much either, he's just as obstinate." Bertha placed her hands on her hips, seeming to take offence herself at this news.
"That's preposterous!" She exclaimed. "When my Peter will turn eighteen, I will organize a great celebration for him!" She declared proudly, pointing at a sheepish Peter in the corner. The woman turned to them, scanning them with keen eyes, and Ralph sensed a general fluster overwhelm them all of a sudden. He couldn't help but fidget in his seat as he tried to hold the woman's fierce gaze which briefly passed over him.
"Well, you're most certainly lucky not to have a prat with anger issues in your house." She grinned knowingly at them, then turned back to the shorter woman. As she attempted to pick up the tower of boxes, she appeared to lightly struggle under its weight for one moment. Their breaths stopped when Simon immediately got up to help her, his kind nature not allowing him to assist at such a scene without interfering, and Ralph swallowed his nervousness, before he swore under his breath and mustered the courage to follow suit. He heard Peter stutter in his place as his aunt scolded him from behind the counter.
"Peter, don't just sit there, help the lady!" She strictly barked as if Peter didn't have a bad leg. The bespectacled boy rigorously nodded, sweating, then heavily moved to stand up and limp after his friends.
They each picked up a pair of boxes from the woman's arms and she watched them flabbergasted for a second, intensely analyzing them with slanted eyes, seemingly seeking to recall their identities. A spark lighted her blue eyes and her face bloomed into a wide smile of recognition as she pointed at Simon first.
"You were in the choir with Jack, weren't you?" She affirmed assuredly. Ralph could not help but notice how she had used the word were, instead of the present time, revealing that Merridew had completely given up on his old activity. "Simon." She smiled, before her inquisitive gaze fell on Peter. "And of course, Peter." She winked. Peter turned ridiculously red as he politely nodded.
"M'am." He blabbered, lowering his gaze. Ralph felt sweat pouring on him as she finally turned to him.
"You look quite familiar as well, handsome." She smiled wittily. "Hmm, let's see," She trailed off, searching through memories of him that she remarkably seemed to hold. Ralph's chest thudded painfully, feeling as if he was going through an examination. The woman's eyes then widened in astonishment. "Oh, but of course! You're James and Laura Foley's boy!" She burst out and Ralph's wild heart halted at hearing the names of his parents, his mother's even, coming out of her mouth. His face flushed deeply.
"D-did you know my mother?" He sputtered astonished. The woman's gaze turned bittersweet, regarding him with regret. "I did." She admitted. "She was a very precious woman. I find it to be a terrible tragedy what overcame her." She compassionately said, and the boys restlessly fretted at the depressing recollection, which rose like a dark cloud over them. Ralph avoided the stares that trailed on him, his eyes awkwardly falling on the boxes in his arms.
The woman heavily exhaled, then turned to Peter's aunt and gave a small salute.
"Thank you for everything, Bertha! I'll pay you another visit sometime." She amicably said and the other woman cheerily waved back. The woman grabbed her umbrella, then motioned the boys to follow her outside, to a black Cadillac parked at the corner of the street. The engine still seemed to be running, and the sky fell on Ralph at the apparition of a very tall man around the woman's age, who rigidly went out to open the car's trunk. They all couldn't help but shudder as one might have confused him for Merridew himself, if not for the dark hair and the fact that he obviously was much older.
The man was formally dressed and his elegant suit immediately soaked as he stepped out into the rain, which seemed to put him in a bad mood.
"What took you so long, Deborah," He groused and the woman rolled her eyes at his gloominess.
„Get your knickers out of a twist, I was only for ten minutes in there." She mocked him. He frowned darkly at that and Ralph couldn't help but hold a snort in. As if the man had sensed that, he turned to him with a piercing gaze of ice, and Ralph immediately recoiled.
"And who's this?" He asked, referring to the three boys that accompanied her. The woman seemed to brighten up at the question.
"Three very nice lads who decided to help me." She pressed meaningfully and the man pursed his lips in annoyance. "Also, Jack's colleagues." She added, throwing a pointed look at Ralph. "You remember the fair one, right, he's James and Laura's boy. And I believe he also was Jack's best mate back in the days." Ralph paled at this as he hadn't expected anything of the sort to ever be brought up between them. Never in his entire life had he imagined that Merridew's mother would remember so much about him and his past, much less that she would discuss it with Merridew's father in front of him. His gut wrenched in trepidation as he was the focus of the older couple for a few moments, and he felt Peter and Simon anxiously peer at him, sensing his terrible panic. The older Merridew scoffed in derision.
"I don't have time for this." He took the boxes from them and placed them in the trunk, then coldly dismissed them. "Get in the car already." He grumbled to his wife, before he stepped in, and the woman made a face behind his back.
"Moody bastard." She threw a dirty look in his direction and the other boys unwillingly smiled at the exchange. Ralph was in shock, he couldn't entirely wrap his mind around the fact that he had just made acquaintance with Merridew's folks and that he had assisted at such personal interactions between them. And that Merridew seemed to be a perfect blend of their personalities. The woman turned to them and flashed pearly white teeth in a grin.
"Thank you, boys." She gratefully nodded. "It would be of use if you were all the time there at the shop." She taunted. The three boys nodded silently, still stunned after the whole event. They hovered, awkward and stiff, then turned to leave the place, when they were stopped.
"Also," She interrupted, before they could run away. "My son seems to be too invested in his work lately, perhaps the company of some nice colleagues would be helpful." She admitted, before she leaned forward. "He would go on a rampage if he knew I proposed this to you, but hey, a mother needs to interfere sometimes." She chuckled. "You can pass by sometime, you know." Her eyes intentionally fell on Ralph. "Rekindle old friendships."
The woman offered them one last quirky smile, then turned and disappeared into the car, which instantly took off, leaving them in utter confusion. Peter shook his head on the way back to the shop.
"That was wild." He admitted dumbstruck. Ralph and Simon could only agree.
"And strange." Simon sustained. "Never would have thought that Jack's mum would be so nice."
"If I ever approached the doom mansion, which will not happen anyway," Peter assured them, "She would probably be the only reason I would do that." He finished, taking his glasses off to uselessly wipe them on his drenched shirt. "Definitely not for those scary bastards." Ralph sighed, uneasy at the realization that he had already been there a couple of times. If Merridew's parents knew what he and their son had committed inside their own home, they would probably be not as relenting. The invitation of his mother would not stand out anymore for sure.
"I just hope we will not have to pass through that again." He firmly said, tightening his wet jacket around him. Shivers prickled his flesh, as his instinct told him that was blatant self-deceit.
Because that would most probably not be the last time he would have to face Merridew's parents.
…
He was abruptly awakened by a loud commotion outside and, in his jolt, he frenziedly rolled to the side and almost fell out of the bed. He rubbed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to come to his senses, and the noise seemed to become more distinguishable as his mind gradually cleared up. He turned his head toward the clock on the nightstand. 01:42.
"What the-" He grumbled to himself, the ruckus having intensified by then, as more noises joined it. Someone singing, voices yelling, a couple of dogs barking a few houses away. He frowned, stood up, and approached the window curiously, and it dawned on him that the person that was disturbing the whole neighbourhood was actually standing in front of his house. He couldn't see their face very well in the darkness outside, but the tall silhouette, the long, black robe, and that blasted voice were unmistakable.
He opened the window in a move and leaned over the ridge scandalized.
"What in the bloody hell, Merridew!" He yelled disturbed as Merridew was drawling out some ridiculous, undecipherable song. His usually acceptable voice seemed to have turned to a scratchy rasp now and Ralph covered his ears with his hands, trying to yell again over his annoying vocals.
"Go away!" He turned, attempting to find something in his room to throw at him; his eyes fell on the rolled newspaper from that morning and he instantly grabbed it and threw it at the sod with the strength of a dead raccoon. Merridew easily deflected it of course, wavering a bit to the side, then laughed out loudly at him and carried on with his terrible serenade.
"Don't tell me again that you despise me, I beg you," He retaliated in a singsong voice, placing his hand over his chest in a melodramatic gesture, and Ralph gave a frustrated groan and grabbed at his hair. Merridew loudly putting up a show in front of his house in the middle of the night was one of the worst things that could have happened. He had expected Merridew to bother him again at some point, except he hadn't expected it to be so soon after their last encounter and not in such an open, chaotic manner. Not only the whole neighbourhood would find out about this, but his caretaker was most surely already up, wondering about the whole circus. Relief flooded him at the thought that his father was not home that weekend, his ship following a longer course of two weeks, because that would have brought the end of the world for him. He grumbled to himself as he took his nightshirt on, before he went out into the hall, only to bump into the confused old woman.
"Ralph, what's this? What's going on?" She rambled, her mind still obviously fuzzy from sleep, and Ralph simply put his hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down.
"Don't worry, 'annah, it's just my-" He paused as he realized all at once that he didn't know what to tell her. Who was out there, really, he wondered himself. His archenemy slash ex-lover?
"One of my classmates." He forcefully smiled and Hannah shook her head in irritation, before she turned back to her bedroom.
"Some odd friends you have, Ralph." She groused in irritation. "You boys are a nuisance. Tell him to go home, I don't want to hear that terrible rumpus again." She gesticulated then slammed the door behind her and Ralph exhaled both in ease and annoyance, at the word she had understood instead. He is not my friend, he grimly thought, before he went down the stairs, into the main room.
Merridew didn't seem to have stopped with his spectacle yet and Ralph scanned the living room, trying to find a solution to repel him. He saw Hannah's wooden broom in the corner and he thought about giving Merridew a good whooping with that to teach him a lesson for agitating an entire quarter at that late hour, but the idea died down as quickly as it grew.
His stomach flipped at the flashback of Merridew attacking his own mates for him the other day and worry soared up in his chest. He shouldn't feel like that, he shouldn't be concerned about Merridew, because nothing could change an entire history of bullying from Merridew himself, not even Merridew's attempt at saving him and his friends once from the claws of his savage mates, still he couldn't help himself. Because he had to finally come to terms that he did care about Merridew, against his will, against his rationale. Morbid curiosity and concern, as well as a good civic sense determined him to open the door to deal with this.
"Tell me that I'm fucked up, mentally unstable, but don't tell me that you hate me-" Merridew was nonsensically rumbling over and over, swaying slightly, then instantly stopped when he noticed Ralph standing by the door with his arms crossed. A tight knot formed in Ralph's throat as he caught sight of Merridew's now clearly visible state; he had a black eye and a large, purple bruise on his cheekbone. His apprentice robe was messily hanging open on him, his shirt unfastened at the neck, and the tie just a black string hanging on his shoulders. Ralph remarked another bruise blooming into his collarbone. The black Cadillac that he had seen earlier that day was parked on the side of the street and Ralph guessed that Merridew had snatched the family car right from under their noses, while he was also in a partially drunken state. Still, his recklessness barely surprised Ralph anymore. He tried to appear unperturbed, as he continued staring critically at the bastard. Merridew cheekily grinned at him.
"I knew my incredible voice would draw you out to me." He cockily declared, theatrically trying to fix the collar of his shirt up, messing with it more instead. Ralph shook his head.
"I just came here to stop the neighbours calling the police on you, you sod." He bit out. "I don't know what happened to your voice, but it sounds awful anyway." At this, Merridew suddenly seemed to snap out of his pleasant mood, his eyes narrowing, which put a small smile on Ralph's face.
"I'm never drinking again." He declared darkly as if the end of the world was coming. Ralph couldn't help but burst out in a small chuckle.
"Now, that's dramatic." He assessed. "How did you find out where I live anyway?" Merridew raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.
"Why, Ralph, the real question is how I can not know, since we have been familiar with each other for so long already." He obviously retorted. Ralph frowned and he tried not to think of the ways Merridew used to try to find out his home address. He inhaled deeply, before he went down the steps and headed to Merridew, his whole body defensive, instinctively reacting as one prey would react to a predator.
"I think you should go home now." He told him restlessly and Merridew looked down at him, cunning eyes slanted.
"Should I? He countered. "When I am inebriated like this?" Ralph pressed his lips together at the manipulation that Merridew was exerting on him for the umpteenth time. He was attempting to jab at Ralph's consciousness, knowing Ralph's morals would not allow Merridew to drive back in that state. The slight gratefulness and worry that he had felt for Merridew earlier for having helped him the other day started fading away. He should have known he had done it for his own personal achievement. Again. Why did that possibility not cross his mind? Perhaps because Merridew had acted too extremely, attacking his own mates. And yet, he knew Merridew could go to extremes to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was, in this case, Ralph.
He was furious and disappointed, mostly with himself for letting himself be deceived by Merridew, for never learning his lesson. His features harshened, his eyes turning a shade of blue in the glow of the streetlamps, almost matching Merridew's eyes. Then he roughly pushed into Merridew's chest.
"Did you order your cronies to beat up my friends last week, huh?" He voiced loudly, mist forming between his lips with each breath, brewing into the cold air of the night. He pushed again and Merridew lightly staggered a few steps back, but was still steady enough to stand his ground. He suddenly gazed at Ralph with those sorrowful eyes of his and Ralph could not let himself be tricked by it. Not anymore, he told himself. He pushed harder.
"Did you?" He bristled. He could barely control the intensity in his voice as he tried not to wake the whole street himself this time. Merridew didn't react for a moment, his heartsick eyes pulling at Ralph's chest.
"You really think I did it, huh." He smiled bitterly, then curved his mouth downward, sour. "You really think I give a damn about anything or anyone else, when I have you." He declared dramatically, his gaze deeply boring into Ralph. His statement should have clarified Ralph's doubt, except only more disbelief stemmed from it. He had been so much manipulated by Merridew, that he didn't know what to think. He didn't know if Merridew lied just to get to him. His resolve suddenly crumbled, weariness debilitating his senses.
"Just go home, Merridew." He muttered, sick and exhausted, his mind and voice falling apart. He turned to leave, then felt Merridew's arms sneaking around his waist, turning him around to face him, and Ralph froze in shock for a moment.
"You must believe me, Ralph, I didn't, I didn't-" He ranted, his eyes wide and wild, and Ralph stared back at him in clear startle. Discomfort reared in him at the way Merridew was clinging to him, without any self-control or regard, but precise and unyielding, as if his previous sluggish movements had suddenly vanished. "I don't care about that anymore, I only care about-" He stopped mid-sentence as if he had realized what he was about to say and Ralph scowled. Merridew's enormous ego and conceit would not ever let him confess anything that was related to empathy or any sort of emotion.
His insistence and desperation also confirmed that he might not have been lying, that he did tell the truth, but that didn't mean Ralph could let his guard down in his presence, not after he had attempted to be a conniving snake with Ralph again. Or that he can be absolved of everything he'd done before, he thought gloomily, trying to fight against his longing for Merridew that started to affect him as Merridew was firmly pressing his body into his.
"I-I believe you, alright," He weakly retorted, more to break away out of his Merridew's clutches than blatant honesty. He was jittery, uptight, mistrustful, and he tried to twist himself to escape Merridew's embrace, unsuccessfully though. Merridew's clasp on him turned fiercer. He looked as if he wanted to explode in a rant, his electric blue eyes too vivid, too much prodding at Ralph's mind, messing with it.
"I've done too many things to try to make up for it, I know that-" He paused, "And I will not pretend to be sorry, because I'm not either," He said and Ralph was hit by a sentiment of downfall at his bold declaration, "Because that's not me." He affirmed self-assuredly. Rancour left a bitter taste in the fair boy's mouth and his body charged with quick anger. He pushed into Merridew's chest, wanting nothing more than just to get away from the harsh, honest words that left Merridew's mouth, openly laying the truth of his wicked nature out, in front of them. Because Ralph knew he had been right, even though a small belief had remained behind, instilling painful hope for the Merridew that he had thought to exist at some point in his childhood. The Merridew that had now been confirmed to be fictitious. A fable.
Merridew grabbed him again and pressed himself even harder into Ralph. "Just let me finish, Ralph!" He snapped as the fair boy fought and thrashed. Merridew grabbed his wrists to hold him in place and Ralph heaved as he regarded him with terrible anger.
"There's nothing to finish!" He vented. "You've done too much, too much, and the fact that you don't even slightly regret it tells me this is going to be impossible, Jack!" He lashed out, the name slipping his mouth in frenzied impulse. Merridew huffed, contorting his severe features in extreme aggravation.
"Do you want me to lie to you then, huh?" He lashed back. "Want me to pretend to be this nice and homely bloke that you dream of, pretending to repent?" He snarled, his eyes unstable, almost deranged. Ralph's struggle moderately tempered, as he took his words in. "I cannot and I will never do that," Merridew carried on, taking his chance as the fair boy slightly relented. "I told you, that is not me. I don't regret the things I do, because there's no sense in that, wasting time emotionally consuming myself over something that I have already committed. But I can attempt to," He swallowed, finding his words with much more difficulty as he continued, "I can attempt to learn from them. To work on certain faults that I'm aware of, I-I can fight to make this work out." He struggled to admit, visibly stepping over his pride as he did so. The fair boy breathed heavily, carefully studying him with disbelieving eyes, a spirit that was faltering. He opened his mouth then closed it, incapable of responding to Merridew's confession. It had been like a typhoon, a maddening swirl of frustration, despair, suffering, yearning that escaped them, entirely draining them of all inner forces, leaving them at a standstill, in an empty void.
Merridew's aggressive posture slackened, his willpower dropping as he let his head fall into the fair boy's shoulder. He tentatively pressed his lips into the hair at his neck, inhaling the scent there, and Ralph's knees turned weak; he remained still for a moment, his heart violently slamming against his ribs. No, that wasn't going to happen, he was not going to allow it. He was not going to let himself be trapped in Merridew's charms again. Don't do it. Don't go back, his mind insisted, warned. Even more so as it was carved into stone that there were barely any chances for them to ever have something remotely decent, let alone normal. This was pure instinct that made him do it, that made him let himself fall into corruption. Because he was too soft, too easy.
He swallowed and tried again to slowly but resolutely push Merridew away, but it proved to be an effort, as Merridew was bent on remaining stuck to him.
"Please," Ralph softly muttered, his limbs slacking in Merridew's feeble embrace, at the feel of Merridew's mouth pressing into the skin of his neck and side cheek. He turned his head to the side when Merridew attempted to take his mouth with his own and refused to look him in the eye; Merridew ceased his motions and slightly retreated his head to gaze at him. Ralph sharply inhaled as he raised upset eyes to Merridew's, and he noticed perplexity and slight fear of rejection in them. He swallowed dry air. "Not here." He impulsively told him, without any forethought, and he knew he had given him free pass with those two simple words. He had let himself fall again.
Merridew immediately understood, to his surprise. He paused for a moment, then nodded in silence and reluctantly backed away. Ralph turned then, heading back to the door, shaken up, his feet and palms sweating, his chest almost exploding, as a warm storm ravaged inside of him. Confusion, lust, a maelstrom of sensations left his thoughts in a clutter, making him forget about his scruples and everything that they had been fighting about until then.
He paused as he realized that Merridew was not following him and he turned his head and saw him standing there, rooted to the same spot, lost as he seemed to wait for Ralph to give him an indication, anything, which unsettled Ralph. He had never imagined Merridew would ever be the one to wait for consent, let alone for the smallest invitation to follow Ralph for the purpose that he had come there in the first place.
He huffed, his face turning red in embarrassment and irritation at Merridew's absurd change of character.
"Come on," He loudly whispered, quickly remembering to check his surroundings to see if other people had been around to assist at their compromising exchange, then relaxed a bit. Fortunately, no one was crossing his street at that late hour.
Merridew instantly sprung after him as if he had been holding his breath, and reached Ralph in less than two seconds. The fair boy grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, slamming the door behind them, then grasped Merridew's face to tug him down and feverishly smash his mouth against his with the urgency of more than one week of suppressed and painful longing. Merridew ruthlessly responded, thrusting back into Ralph's mouth with terrible need, and the fair boy moaned as he tasted whisky and cigarettes, his tongue heatedly sliding against Merridew's greedy one. Their raspy gasps filled up the room as they struggled and thrashed, eagerly pressing into one another, and Merridew released his robe, leaving it somewhere behind on the floor in their fierce clash.
He could barely repress his whimpers as Merridew's hands fervently groped everywhere he reached, his hands going down the small of his back, cupping and kneading his arse through his nightclothes, so he tremulously put his hands over his and stopped his movements for a moment; silently mouthing at him to be quiet, eyes lost in a warm haze. Merridew returned the ardent stare, looking almost wrathful at being stopped for a moment, his pupils dilated with the instinct for tearing apart.
He gave a quick nod, before he immediately went down on his knees, and Ralph's breath hitched as he had thought he would never see that picture become real. Merridew had sucked him off before, sure, but he had never imagined Merridew would ever kneel for him to do that, as it was a position that someone proud like him would consider to be disgraceful; something that would undermine his power and authority. He indecently gazed up at Ralph, while dragging his trousers down, and the fair boy trembled in anticipation, sensing his body weaken and his mind become cloudy, knowing he would have fallen if Merridew had not been holding his thighs steady with firm hands.
He swallowed Ralph in one go, without any inhibitions, and the fair boy pressed his lips together to stop himself from crying out loud. He cautiously laid a hand on Merridew's head for support, delving his hand into his thick, dark red hair, and covered his mouth to prevent any sounds from coming out, as Merridew took him all in, sucking and licking at Ralph's cock with dexterity. The fair boy let out a choking noise and instinctively rocked his hips forward, and Merridew growled at the motion and grabbed Ralph's arse tightly, digging his fingers into his cheeks, leaving burning streaks behind. He responded by savagely working his mouth up and down the fair boy's shaft, tightly squeezing his cock with thirsty lips and mouth, lightly grazing his teeth over it, and Ralph felt like he was going to pass out.
He wasn't going to last, he could feel his cock already leaking into Merridew's mouth. A low rumble formed in Merridew's throat as he felt it as well; his lips slid down his shaft, his tongue massaging the underline of his cock in one last sucking motion, before he removed himself from his erection, and the fair boy shivered and squirmed, keening for the missing warmth.
Merridew wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, darkly watching Ralph for a moment, before he stood up and urgently backed Ralph up into the couch. They fell in a tangle, knees and elbows bumping against each other, before Merridew forced himself on him. He recklessly mouthed and nipped everywhere- at Ralph's lips, at his face, his ears and his neck- all while never stopping the motion of his hips, trying to rut into the squirming boy underneath him. He lifted Ralph's nightshirt to reach lower, to graze his starved mouth against his chest, to lick and bite at his nipples and stomach, branding fresh bruises into his sensitive skin. Ralph's fingers tangled in the curls of his hair, grappled at his shoulders; his nails dug into his back, scratching through his shirt, his teeth painfully chewed into his lower lip as he desperately tried to quiet himself.
Merridew then unzipped the slit of his own trousers to release his hard cock, before he lowered his pelvis into Ralph's wet erection, and Ralph gasped, delirious, and lifted his legs to place them around his waist, almost crushing him with the force of his thighs. Merridew callously rubbed their cocks together, lowly grunting as he used his hand to hold their lengths with one hand, while he grabbed at the arm of the couch with the other, steadying himself. He quickly brought his hand to his mouth and spit in it, before he returned it in between their jointed bodies, rubbing up and down at their cocks, messy and sticky with precome and saliva, and Ralph hollered into the palm of his hand, his body sweating and burning, his frenetic mind lost in pleasure.
He manically got off the friction, unhinged and lightheaded, although he felt as if his dose was not sufficing yet. He desperately needed more, more of what he had before, so he took Merridew's hand and guided it around his neck, showing him what he had to do. He could see Merridew through blurred vision, see him watch Ralph lost for a moment, his mind far away, before he twisted his features in concentration to clench his hand around the sensitive area of his neck. There was a reluctance though, because the force was not nearly enough, not precisely what Ralph had wanted and needed, and he gave a low whine as he placed his hand over Merridew's and squeezed it, his nails scraping at Merridew's rough knuckles.
"Please, please-" He softly let out between broken gasps and he could feel Merridew slightly hesitate for a moment, some sort of conflict in his eyes. It didn't last long though, because he hardened his face in determination as he sought to give Ralph what he needed, and he tightened his grip, and Ralph choked and arched into the touch, as the pressure squeezing the air out of him- still a notch softer than before, his body instinctively took notice- was like a shot into his bloodstream. Merridew lowly groaned, then leaned over and roughly took his open mouth, swallowing his crumbled breaths.
The couch shook underneath their weights, under their bodies that carelessly ground into each other, and Merridew's heavy cock sliding against his own and his rough hand around his neck were incredible, wonderful, a drug he had yearned for, too much, for far too long, and it made him tremble and sigh and sob into Merridew's mouth as he spilled over their hot cocks and over Merridew's hand, the come leaking down on his stomach. A couple of strokes later, Merridew burst out just as violently, and he lowered his cock into Ralph's belly, thrusting and stroking himself against the skin there, making a mess on Ralph's stomach, the come slipping down the sides of his waist into the couch, and he tried not to pay heed to that then. Merridew let his body crash into Ralph's with a heavy groan and they breathed in exhaustion, resting for a few moments into the bliss of their orgasms.
That had been quick and reckless and desperate, he realized. Merridew lazily mouthed at the bruises on his neck and shoulder, while Ralph just brought his hands up underneath Merridew's shirt, softly rubbing at the skin of his back, and Merridew gave a content hum.
"You should do that more often," He weakly rasped, before he lifted his head and stared down at Ralph, his eyes unguarded, almost vulnerable, holding an emotion that Ralph felt he knew what it was, except he didn't want to think of it. He looked back at Merridew, the vulnerability in his eyes mirroring that of Merridew, and he swallowed as he felt wings fluttering in his stomach, something he had not felt since he was a child, easily struck and affected by the most insignificant things.
"I-" He started out, unable to find words. The intensity of this emotional undercurrent that passed between them was too much for him to deal with right then. He wriggled and pushed into Merridew's chest and Merridew resisted for a moment, before he backed away from Ralph. He sneaked a handkerchief out of the pocket of his trousers and wiped at the mess on his stomach and cock, then turned to Ralph and carefully cleaned him up, and the fair boy rolled his eyes.
"Do you always have a handkerchief with you?" He asked, allowing Merridew to fuss over him this time. Merridew not only cleaned him up, but he also brought his underwear and trousers up, telling him to lift his arse so he would tuck him in properly, and Ralph's cheeks flushed at his command. Merridew's authoritarian and overbearing character proved to be too much for him at times and he wanted to protest and push Merridew away, but Merridew just grumbled impatiently and forcefully nudged him to the side to drag his clothes up, before he even had the time to react.
"I do always have a handkerchief, yes," Merridew finally answered his question, offering him a sly grin. "You don't know when it might come in handy." Ralph huffed in annoyance. He faltered as he regarded Merridew's bruises, blue and purple under the white light from outside. He gulped nervously.
"Did they attack back?" He asked, seeking to hide his concern. Merridew intensely stared at him for a moment, before he shook his head.
"Just Roger." He answered, averting his gaze. "He challenged me for the leading position in the group." He cheerlessly spoke of it, unwilling to discuss the subject. He snorted. "I let him beat me up." Ralph frowned perturbed.
"Why?" He inquired, turning nervous at the way Merridew's shoulders slumped in defeat for some reason. Merridew had always been proud and fierce and seeing him any other way just made Ralph uneasy. Merridew shrugged indifferent.
"I kind of deserved it." He honestly admitted, before he narrowed his eyes. "That is not important to me anymore anyway. I have better things to attend to in my life right now." He threw Ralph a look full of purpose and the fair boy tensed under his gaze and looked away, hesitant. Merridew did not press further on, nor brought up again what he had heatedly confessed earlier. It was obviously difficult for both of them to reach a conciliation regarding their connection, relationship even, Ralph dared to name it. And in spite of Merridew's efforts at getting close to him in the way that they both wanted it, Ralph could not completely let go of his resentment toward him, he could not offer forgiveness. It was complicated and hard to deal with. Still, he could sense an alleviation of the intensity of his loathing, each time he and Merridew were brought together through intimate touch. Even more so now, as they had openly communicated for the first time and released some of their most repressed thoughts and feelings.
Merridew suddenly burst into chuckles and Ralph turned to him, brow furrowed.
"We both did serious damage to his face, though." He said amused. "Especially you, you broke his nose." He asserted passionately, watching Ralph with some sort of misplaced admiration, and Ralph puffed and answered with an eye roll. Of course Merridew would find something of the sorts to be praiseworthy. The only thing that he probably found admirable about Ralph.
Merridew suddenly leaned over him with a sultry look and roughly grabbed his waist, pulling him closer, and the fair boy's pulse raced.
"You're quite feisty, aren't you," He smirked provocatively, bringing his hand down the small of Ralph's back, under the band of his trousers, caressing at the skin there, his fingers leaving hot marks in their trail. "You pretend to be composed, but it's so easy to rile you up." He drew closer, pressing into Ralph. Irritation rose in him at Merridew's statement and he tried to push him away, but Merridew caught his hand and chuckled. Ralph fumed, knowing his reactions only proved his words.
"Easy?" He gritted his teeth, his mouth curling downward in displeasure. "You and your bloody squad are a nightmare." He heatedly declared. "You drive everyone nuts." Merridew's smug grin didn't fade, the bastard.
"Do we?" He tilted his head, cold eyes preying on him. Ralph wanted to smack that expression off his face. "Tell me more about it." He breathed out heavily, evidently turned on again, and Ralph couldn't help but be amazed at how animalistic he could be, so aggressively sexual, in spite of the pious social role that he had taken upon him. He leaned backward as Merridew advanced on him, forcing himself upon him, and the warmth of his body instantly stimulated Ralph, too quickly aroused him again. His instincts made him comply, against his resolution, and he grudgingly brought his arms up Merridew's back. Merridew flicked his tongue against the shell of his ear and bit at it, then slowly brought his finger down the lower part of his navel, tracing it alongside the curve of his arse, and Ralph sighed, eyes fluttering shut, mouth lightly parting. A soft moan escaped the back of his throat when Merridew reached his tight hole, softly prodded it, then slipped the tip of his finger inside. He shivered as it went deeper, explored, and he was about to drag Merridew on top of him, when a door slammed above.
"Fuck!" He cursed then shoved Merridew off of him with all the force he could muster, which was enough to send an unguarded Merridew toppling to the floor.
Light flooded the room and steps thumped down the stairs. The old caretaker's eyes fell on Merridew, lying there on the floor and groaning as he rubbed his head, appearing as if he was an intrusive vagabond. The woman gasped and gave a short screech.
"Ralph!" She admonished scandalized. "I told you, your friend needs to leave!" She turned to him, hands on hips, taking an accusing stance. The fair boy briefly remained rooted to the spot, red and panting, still affected from Merridew's touch. He tried to focus as the gears in his mind intensely worked to find a solution to get out of the impeding trouble.
"But 'annah, look at him, he's a drunkard!" He hastened to pretend as he pointed at Merridew, features twisted in false worry. "He cannot even stand up, let alone go home by himself!" He saw Merridew throw him an impressed but grouchy look from the side, and he bit his lip as he tried to control the disturbing hilarity that suddenly bubbled in him at the whole situation.
The woman narrowed her eyes, looking from Ralph to Merridew, most probably trying to figure out their suspicious encounter in the dark. Perspiration dampened Ralph's forehead and neck, leaking into his shirt, as he held his breath in, desperately hoping she wouldn't try to question them openly.
"I don't want to see him around anymore." She simply said and Ralph exhaled in relief. She kept eyeing Merridew's appearance with a strange curiosity though. Her eyes fell on Merridew's abandoned robe and recognition lighted her features as she wheezed, covering her mouth in visible shock.
"You're supposed to become the new pastor of our community!" She stressed scandalized. Merridew ridiculously grinned at her reaction, then theatrically put his hand through his messy hair.
"What do you know, I'm famous." He retorted pleased with himself and the woman frowned and shook her head.
"You should be ashamed of yourself." She scolded him. "You're spoiling your spiritual ascension by drinking and then we will be the ones who'll suffer from it!" She snapped irascible and Ralph wondered what her reaction would be if she knew drinking was actually the least problematic offence that Merridew had committed against the church.
"Hey, a man must enjoy his life as well," Merridew leisurely retorted and the woman fumed, before she faced Ralph.
"Just get him out of here, Ralph! I don't ever want to see him around!" She repeated, then smacked her lips in displeasure as if she had tasted something sour. "Preposterous! I'm never going to our church again! Youngsters are absolutely horrid nowadays." She grumbled to herself, as she went up the stairs and banged the door behind her. The boys shared bewildered looks for a moment, before bursting into chuckles.
"That is one headstrong orthodox woman." Merridew concluded. Ralph shook his head and relaxed, releasing all the tension that he had accumulated.
"I know." He admitted as a slight wisp of guilt pricked at his gut. He gave Merridew a reproachful look. "You really appall everyone with your heinous tendencies." Merridew raised his eyebrows at him, pretending to be insulted.
"Oh, really?" He mocked. "I recall someone easily lying to their caretaker earlier without showing any trace of nervousness." Ralph lightly kicked him in the shin and Merridew let out a satisfied snicker at his reaction.
"I learned from the best, what can I say," He bit back, pointedly. Or the worst, the thought immediately followed. Merridew fondly watched him for a moment; his wicked smile widened.
"Indeed."
…
It was three in the morning when they got in the car to head to the city. Ralph had been reluctant at first to let Merridew drive in that state, but after a few persuading words from Merridew's side, he had been forcefully dragged into the conviction that his inebriation had tapered, so he insecurely let himself occupy the seat next to him. He felt awkward and out of place in the luxurious car – everything was black leather on the inside and the fragrance of it, combined with traces of very expensive perfume, invaded his nostrils. It was exactly the scent that he had previously caught the few times he had visited other rich families along with his parents when he had been only a child, before his mother died and his father stopped visiting family friends.
Merridew took some time until he got into the car, firstly discarding his robe into the back seat and smoothing the wrinkles of his white shirt. He passed his fingers through the mess of his hair, uselessly trying to settle it into place, even though Ralph was confused about why he was doing it in the first place. He himself looked unkempt, as he had some ripped jeans only, old sneakers, and an unwashed t-shirt underneath his usual jean jacket, and Merridew was already more formally dressed than he was, as he had been working in those clothes. Perhaps Merridew was indeed very much preoccupied with his appearance, since Ralph had never seen him wear anything but impeccable formal clothing, his outfits having most of the time consisted of perfectly ironed shirts, fabric trousers, and polished shoes, compared to Ralph, who preferred dirty sneakers and worn out jeans. It wouldn't have surprised him, given how obsessed with control he was and how much he cared about his image.
It was also very late in the night -or early in the morning- in any case and they were supposed to just grab some snacks on the way to Merridew's house, since his parents were away again.
"I don't understand though," He started, as Merridew backed the car into the alley of his house, "How are they away, when you have the car?" Merridew snorted as if he had said something hilarious.
"It's so endearing how unaware you are about the lives of the wealthy." He answered with a small smirk, throwing a quick but affectionate look in Ralph's direction. The fair boy narrowed his eyes at him.
"You mean-" Merridew obviously nodded, steering the car into yet another empty, dark street.
"This is their fourth car." He shortly replied. A twinge of jealousy nipped at Ralph's chest, but he tried to shake it off, as it was not sensible to be envious about it. Maybe Merridew had a better life than he had, materialistically speaking, but he had nonetheless remarked how Merridew couldn't allow himself to loosen up that much, as he always had to prove himself to maintain his social status. When Ralph had thought he had known almost everything about him, such details always came forth with each moment that he spent in his company.
They passed a couple of neighbourhoods before they reached the old town centre. Merridew parked the car on the side of an alley, near the pub area, and Ralph looked out the window agitated. There were quite many people out that night, as it was Saturday, and he definitely didn't want anyone familiar seeing them together.
"Don't worry," Merridew smoothly spoke, as if he sensed Ralph's apprehension, "I'll just quickly go into the store there to get some crisps," He pointed at the bright letters of a non-stop open store a few feet further from them. "You don't have to join me, I'll be back quickly." The fair boy let his hand run through his ruffled hair with a sigh. He shook his head, discontented at how much this fear overpowered him, and he told himself he shouldn't let it affect his life. He wanted to walk by Merridew's side in the open without being afraid, because he had been quite audacious about most challenges in his life, and ever since Merridew approached him in the most unexpected manner, he felt as if he had become too much of a coward. He didn't entirely feel like his old self anymore, so he decided on the spur of the moment to just try to return to that. He ignored his skittish heart and quickly placed a hand on Merridew's arm when he opened the door to get out.
"Wait," He turned to him with a determined look. "I'm coming with you." He boldly said. Merridew's mouth turned upward in a pleased smile.
"Good." He encouragingly replied and Ralph's stomach curled as Merridew took his hand from his arm and brought it to his lips, all in one quick motion, that he thought he had imagined it. Merridew released him then and slammed the car door behind him, and Ralph hesitated in his seat for a few more moments, then followed shortly after, before his decision dissolved.
Fortunately, the store was empty at the time they went in. Merridew went directly to the snacks section and Ralph cautiously trailed after him, constantly inspecting his surroundings. The place was not very big, so anyone who would have come in would have spotted them right away. The middle-aged man behind the counter was engrossed in a newspaper and had not looked up once since they entered.
Merridew casually grabbed four bags of crisps with bacon flavour and Ralph scrunched his nose in distaste.
"Seriously?" He inquired in light sarcasm and Merridew simply shrugged.
"A man has his needs." Was his climatic answer and Ralph snorted, unable to hide his amusement at the comic one-liners Merridew had on his tongue every time someone challenged his preferences. Merridew steadily headed toward the booze section after that, and Ralph was left baffled for a moment at the fact that he was already familiar with all the drink categories, because he immediately knew what to pick. Ralph momentarily pondered the way Merridew had planned to sneak the whisky out, but then he remembered that Merridew had already turned eighteen, which meant he most probably didn't have to do that anymore. He felt restless for a moment, suddenly compelled by the moral obligation to bring it up between them.
"Happy birthday, by the way." He quietly muttered, feeling a little bit silly for having said it now. Merridew suddenly turned to him confused. Ralph swallowed his pride, then licked his lips nervously as he continued. "For last week." Merridew knitted his brow into a frown.
"How-" He started out, but Ralph quickly interrupted him.
"I bumped into your mum this morning." He awkwardly admitted. Merridew's ears turned red and the embarrassment of the situation left both of them uncomfortable and mute for one moment, even though Merridew's reaction was concurrently quite hilarious to Ralph. Merridew pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture of exasperation, his whole face flushed now.
"Good lord, my mother can be quite unbearable at times." He grudgingly let out, and Ralph couldn't hold back from breaking into a clever grin.
"Like mother, like son." He teased and Merridew threw him a death glare, as he grabbed two large bottles of whisky with his free hand, already breaching his promise not to touch alcohol again.
"Shut up." He grouched, before he headed back to the counter. Once they reached the front of the store, they had to wait a couple of seconds until the man behind the counter woke up from his intense preoccupation with the newspaper. Merridew twitched in impatience and Ralph could sense he barely abstained from sneering at him. He shook his head; of course Merridew was used to everyone instantly bending to his wants and needs.
"Oh, and two Marlboro packs." He lastly ordered. His excessive smoking slightly bothered Ralph. He thought for a moment about a reason that would convince Merridew to tone it down a bit, and an idea brightened in his mind. He placed a hand on his arm to catch his attention.
"You know, smoking not only affects your lungs, but also your larynx." He rationally explained, knowing he was manipulating Merridew himself then. He didn't feel bad about it though, as it was for a proper reason. "Smoking affects your voice." He simply clarified when Merridew seemed to think closely about what he was trying to get at. Merridew momentarily watched him with slanted eyes, before he reluctantly changed his decision.
"One Marlboro pack." He unwillingly articulated and Ralph gave him a small smile in approval.
As the cashier was placing their groceries in a bag, the door was suddenly pushed open against the wall. Two figures stepped in, one seemingly assertive, the other insecurely trailing behind. Ralph was the first to look up and all blood drained away from his face in one instant moment at the sight of the familiar faces.
"What the fuck," The rough voice of the shorter of the two blurted out impassively, the only emotion that could be perceived in his reaction being revealed in his words. His face was a mess; he had bruises all over his face and his nose was covered by a bandage that had been improperly fixed up. The taller one widened his eyes at the sight of Merridew and Ralph together. He remained dumbfounded in his spot, mouth slightly hanging open in obvious puzzlement.
Ralph felt Merridew instantly tense up as he faced them, his whole body hardening like a rock, the muscles in his arms visibly tightening as he clenched his fists at his side. What had been the odds that they would end up in the worst possible scenario in which they would come across the least favourable people. Chance had never been on their side apparently, on his side especially, Ralph bitterly thought.
"Are you friends with him now?" Black harshly inquired, dark eyes suspiciously moving from Merridew to Ralph and back, "Is that what it is?" He insisted, the hostility in his voice and body language building up. "Is he the one that you left your mates for, that you attacked us for?" He immediately inferred, dangerously stepping forward to get into Merridew's personal space, his threatening posture reflecting that of Merridew. He was perilously glaring at Merridew, despite that he was more than half of head shorter, such difference obviously not deterring him in the least.
The man behind the counter quickly interfered alarmed.
"Aye, I'm not in the mood for trouble, punks, so resolve your differences in some other place." He rasped as he warily reached for a baseball bat behind him and there was some sort of relief that trickled into Ralph's system. He was grateful for his presence, but the feeling was short lived, because Merridew's enormous ego didn't seem to let him back away from Black; instead he made a step forward as well, and Ralph wanted to groan in frustration and smack some sense into him. He apparently didn't get that they had to bugger off as quickly as possible, before those blasted sods figured them out, but Merridew always had to follow his own agenda.
"He is." Merridew confidently gritted out, eyes narrowed. "Got a problem with that, Roger?" Surprise flashed in Black's features for one quick second, apparently giving away that he hadn't expected Merridew to stand by his decision so quickly, with such fortitude. His decision to be by Ralph's side, instead of theirs. Talbot seemed to have the same reaction behind him, even though he fortunately did not come forward to partake in their conflict. In fact, he uncertainly opened his mouth to address Black.
"Maybe we should just let chief go, Roger, I mean-"
"I am the chief now, Maurice." Black viciously growled at him and Talbot instantly shut his mouth, then slowly took a step back. Black turned to Merridew again, measuring him up, trying to figure his motives out. Slight deception and even a barely noticeable trace of grief quickly flitted in his expression, which was odd and misplaced, as Black had rarely shown any sort of emotion, let alone sentiments that would unveil some sort of vulnerability.
"You know, Merridew," He purposively enunciated the name to prove and press on the fact that Merridew had lost his previous title, the word sounding foreign in his mouth, "I am trying to place your sudden change of mind, but nothing comes up." He asserted, analyzing him with hollow dark orbs, and Merridew clenched his jaw. "You have perpetually insisted on how much you hated Foley, for so many years." He flicked his eyes to Ralph and the fair boy flinched under his ominous stare. "Bragging about it all the time." He continued, letting his gaze trail over Ralph's physique, eyes intensely studying his dirty sneakers, going up his legs and torso to finally fall on his neck. Terror struck the fair boy at the sudden awareness that bite marks might have been visible. He instinctively, foolishly brought his hand to the collar of his jacket, futilely trying to pull it up to cover what he had most surely already seen. Black smirked at the gesture.
"That's none of your goddamn business." Merridew growled back, before he grabbed the bag and pushed him aside with the intention to pass him. In a moment of imprudence, he grabbed Ralph's wrist with his other hand, and the fair boy blanched, his limbs stiffening at the action. He attempted to remove himself from Merridew's grasp, but it was too late. Black's agile eyes had already taken everything in with the swiftness of a hunter.
His face deformed in a malicious smile, his eyes lighted up by terrible satisfaction at the clear understanding that that single gesture had conferred him.
"I should have known it." He declared loudly, clearly outlining every word, bent on letting everyone hear it. Ralph knew what was about to come; appalling fright devoured him, turning his arms and legs limp. It took slightly longer for Merridew to realize it, but when he did, he slowly released Ralph's wrist, his face a placid mask.
"I should have known you were after him, the big prize to your collection. Ah yes, the alluring, delightful golden boy. " Black nonsensically continued and Ralph was struck numb by his words, by the knowledge that Black brought out, exposing Merridew's promiscuous nature. He had been aware of it, in some way or another, but had always chosen to push it at the back of his mind, to ignore it. He frowned, trying to brush away the spasm of hurt that passed through his gut, because he knew feeling upset about Merridew's lascivious proclivities would be useless. Talbot was wordless, anxiously looking from Black to Merridew to Ralph, as he tried to decipher Black's discourse. "I should have known it, when I saw you look at him all those times, with those longing eyes." A look of shock crossed Talbot's features at the shameful insinuation which was now out in the open. He threw Merridew a troubled look, before his questioning eyes fell on Ralph, and the fair boy ground his jaw and shakily avoided his scrutiny.
Merridew tremulously stared at Black, pale as a sheet, his eyes bulging out, appearing as if some sort of lunacy took over him. He brought his hand up in a flash and grabbed the front of Black's shirt, bringing him to his level with a growl, and Black's maniacal smile withered away, leaving a sneer in its place; the image of two wolves snarling at each other passed through Ralph's mind at the scene. The man behind the counter who had cautiously and curiously been watching them all along, lifted his bat to threaten them.
"I said out. Now."
Merridew's nostrils flared for an intense moment as he pierced Black with a death stare, barely holding back from bashing his head in, although Black did not even slightly waver under his menacing gaze. They all held their breaths in for what seemed like an eternity, until Merridew abruptly released him. Black slightly staggered back, before he firmly rooted his feet into the ground, dangerously baring his teeth like a wild animal.
"Let's go, Ralph." Merridew sharply said and the fair boy jumped at the mention of his name. He suddenly felt in the spotlight when both Black's and Talbot's eyes rested on him, one unable to hide his astonishment, the other darkly following his movement with a spiteful glare, and he lingered in his place, shaken up. The fear crept like cold liquid into every space of his body, into his throat, lungs, stomach, trickling into his bones, as their stares harshly judged him, and he could not see or hear anything for one moment. He forced himself to listen to his reason, to the fact that there would be no motive for him to care about what they thought of him, because they were a bunch of brutes, and they had committed things that were much worse, and yet he couldn't stop the crushing feeling. Everything that had happened just prompted the acute instinct of flying away to his safe home, made him weigh his decision of following Merridew.
His throat painfully constricted as he sharply inhaled, before he made the final choice to walk on Merridew's steps.