These Days

Tye hated the pounding in his temple, the pulsing in his ankle, the chill of his toes, the ache in his back. In fact, Tye pretty much hated everything at that moment. Smiths had gone back into town, Tye had listened to his shuffle around the house, it was sweet how he was so careful in the living room to step lightly, place things gently, but in the bedroom his weight shuddered through the floor boards and his curses and murmers were nearly perfectly audible. Tye had suffered a spike of fear when Smiths wandered into the study, a natural reaction, he supposed, to his sanctuary being invaded. But he didn’t get up or make any move to stop the lumbering giant form his exploration. It felt … Good … to accept this man plundering through his things unrestrained but with silent permission.

But now the house was silent, and afternoon was wearing steadily onwards. With a groan and a wince of pain, Tye managed to balance onto his good leg. In a hop he moved into his bathroom and pulled a stretch of gauze and medical tape from the drawer. Settling his foot where it seemed most comfortable, Tye wrapped the gauze fairly tight around his foot, then ankle, then foot, making criss-cross pattern that stabilized the injured foot and distracted him from its constant ache. From there he considered making a makeshift crutch, but the options didn’t seem appealing so again he made a hopping, stumbling way towards the kitchen. The fridge offered up the makings of a cold sandwich and a dessert of apple bread.

Moving his food, and the glass of juice he’s procured, into the study with him began to seem like an insurmountable obstacle when he nearly dropped the glass for the third time. Ultimately it took three annoying, stumbling, pain-inducing trips to settle him fully and comfortably into his study where he planned to sequester himself until such time as the stupidity fully left him.

The computer flashed to life, his design from the morning seemed new, foreign, and Tye bent to it with a vigor. Around him the strains of Vivaldi’s “L’estro armonico” filled the spaces of him mind that tried to diverge to wondering where Smiths was, and if he should expect him back tonight, or if it would be best to turn his phone on in case Smiths called, and perhaps pulling something together for dinner just in case Smiths came back. Because, if those thoughts were given more than a moment’s acknowledgement, they would threaten to overpower all his senses.

Smiths wandered through the little inn, absently greeting his pops as we made his way to the kitchen where Maggie was stirring something orange-brown and full of spice in a bowl. “Don’t eat anything. Or break anything, for that matter,” she warned him. In response he kissed her cheek lightly and slipped a bit of the mix from the side of the bowl to taste it. Yum, carrot cake. It earned him a pinch but then Maggie was measuring something else and stirring vigorously again.

Smiths opened the freezer chest in the corner and began digging through the frozen bags of peas and sauces, cartons of ice cream, and uncooked biscuits until Maggie snapped, “What on earth are you looking for? Surely you can wait an hour or two for dinner!”

“Do you have any cold packs, Maggie?”

“Cold packs?” She asked, even as she moved to the smaller freezer above the fridge, “Did you hurt yourself, hon? I want you to be careful! You can be so reckless sometimes.”

“Its not me this time.” Smiths said, straightening and closing the large freezer. “Do you know the new woodsman, Tyler?”

“Oh that boy, he’s such a sweetheart, never see him in trouble, and he’s come by once or twice for a dinner on Sundays. Though I always give him extra, doesn't seem to be enough meat on his bones to sustain a person, much less work that back-breaking job of his.”

“Well, that non-trouble-making woodsman made himself some trouble.” Maggie looked up, two liquid cold-packs in her hand. Smiths was leaning against the freezer chest, arms crossed, and Maggie felt a warmth blossom against her stomach. It was almost a perfect imitation of his adoptive father when he was young. The tone berating but affectionate. The tone her husband still used on her when she managed to burn her hands or stumble over something in the night. And even as he was scolding her for being careless his hands would rub salve on the wound and bandage it gently.
Smiths was still speaking, grumbling nearly to himself, “Wandered off into the woods, no proper shoes or clothes on, and came stumble home, ankle in a twist worst I’ve ever seen, and not enough strength to stay awake more than five minutes.”

“A twisted ankle! Oh the poor dear.” Maggie moved immediately to the pantry and pulled out a fat wicker basket. The ice packs disappeared back into the freezer but out of the cupboards came a jar of marmalade, thick home-made spice bread, ginger cookies, preserved apples, half of a chilled casserole and several fresh veggies.

Smiths watched flabbergast from his propped position as Maggie bustled about, the carrot cake whipped up and poured into a pan and into the oven. Then a small chicken that was basting in some tangy citrus marinade and Sherry was dressed and tugged and stuffed with an onion and capsicum and slipped in next to the carrot cake. The house quickly filled with twisting mingling scents and heated air.

At some point Pops came meandering into the kitchen only to be stopped short by his wife’s bustling and cooking. He managed to sidle around to Smiths side without getting yelled at and relaxed in the exact pose of his son against the freezer, “What’s got her in such a tizzy?”

Smiths shook his head and ran on hand through this thick auburn hair. It was barely long enough to bury his fingers in it, although Tye didn’t seem to have a problem tangling it the other night. Smiths blushed, blood rushing first to his cheeks then to his cock as the image swept through him. Ah, he was in idiot to think of that right now. Beside him his pops let out a soft chuckle and asked, “So who is it?”

“Ah, Tye. Tyler.”

“Hm. I don’t think I know the name. Surname?”

Smitsh furrowed his brow. Surely he knew it. It had been on the mail, hadn’t it? Arnold? Arti? Lennard? No…Armond! That was it. “Armond, I’m pretty sure.”

Pops shook his head slowly, “Still don’t ring any bells. Maybe a description?”

Smiths let out a soft sigh and let his head fall back, “He’s petite, maybe a head short than me, fairly thin in appearance but muscular for all that, his skin is pale, but hearty, he has dark hair, very nearly black, that’s pretty long for a guy, he pulls it back in a pony-tail a lot. He’s absolutely beautiful, pink lips, a stubborn jaw, narrow nose an perfectly almond eyes the color of hot honey.”

Pops chuckled again and Smiths had the distinct sensation he was being made fun of but when he looked over his pops was watching Maggie with a fondness Smiths felt sure was reflected in his own expression. Joining in his chuckle Smiths shifted to a more comfortable position and waited as Maggie finished putting the final touched on her basket, adding the cool packs in last of all.

The kitchen remarkably clean and her cheeks bright with energy, Maggie pulled on her coat and grabbed up the basket before heading out to the driveway. Smiths only barely jerked out of his reverie in time to follow her, pops right on his tail. They made it outside just as she was starting up the engine of pops old impala.

Smiths knocked on the window quickly and she lowered it a bit. “Where are you going?” He asked.

“To your boy’s place, obviously.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

Maggie fixed him with a look. Of course she knew. If there was a thing ot know in that town she would know it. Pops slipped into her passenger door, placing the basket in his lap and Maggie began backing away before Smiths could gather his wits. They were already on the road before he fumbled back through the house to collect Heloise and hurry out to his truck.

As he pulled up to the house it was already dark and the late hour surprised him. He hadn’t gone straight home when he got into town. His friends caught up with him at the bar then a quick trip to set up his P.O. box and forwarding mail. Feeding Heloise. A bag of fresh clothes prepared at the end. But it hadn’t seemed like so much time had passed.

Had Tye woken up, then? And had he been comfortable? or did the idiot try to move? Possibly work. Hopefully not do anything too strenuous.

But now the thought settled itself and Smiths was practically growling again as he surged up the steps to where his parents were standing expectantly and Smiths would have stormed straight into the house, except the door was already opening.

-

Tye rubbed his eyes as the screen grew fuzzy in front of him. A glance out the window confirmed that he had been working long and hard enough to deserve a break and some more food. But the sound of another cold sandwich didn’t appeal and the pulsing of his ankle, while dulled with rest, was persistent.

A rush of air escaped his lungs as he hauled himself upright again, leaving the old dishes in place for later clean-up, and made slow, hopping steps towards the kitchen.

Smiths hadn’t returned after all and it seems almost pitiful to plan for such an eventuality at this stage.

Then he heard it, a quiet but persistent rapping on the wooden door at the front of his cabin. For a moment his heart caught in his chest before beating wildly against his throat as though to escape.

It could be Smtihs. Being polite. Exercising caution. But it wasn’t a Smiths knock. It was nearly timid in its quietude but nonetheless insistent and demanding. If Jaques had managed to find him out. If he had actually managed to locate this isolated little town, would he be here? What would happen? A rush of emotion? A painful longing? The old familiar ache of seeing those sugary feathers, the bright-gold curls, the pale blue eyes? He hadn’t felt much of anything when he thought to Jacq lately, but to find him on his porch, the possibility was horrifying and for a minute Tye contemplated running, figuratively, he thought, as he looked down at his bandaged foot.

But then he sucked breath back into his lungs, ordering his heart to calm its foolish self, and answered the damned door.

The door was barely cracked before a plump little woman bustled forward and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek, “Oh, darlin’. We heard from our son you’d gotten yourself hurt. Here, Pop, help him to a chair will you? Couldn’t imagine just leavin you out here by your lonesome and our irresponsible son just lolligaggin in town with a boy like you waitin al patient and immobile at home.” An old man, nearly at the same height with Tye, perhaps a pinch shorter, confidently moved to Tye’s injured side and lifted the arm over his shoulder to bear half the weight as they moved back into the house. Tye barely caught a glimpse of the imposing figure of Smiths in the background before he was settled in a recliner and faced between the living room and the kitchen.

The woman was making herself right at home in the kitchen and Tye suddenly realized he hadn’t welcomed offered them. He made to stand up again but the surprisingly strong hand of Smiths’ dad pushed him down again, “Wouldn’t be moving if I were you, son. She’s a storm and will likely take a bite outta you for trying to injure yourself again.”

“Thank you for coming over. I don’t believe you and I have ever met,” Tye extended a hand, “Tyler Armond.”

The old man smiled, his wrinkles moving with his face and making it seem as if he were offering ten smiled instead of just one, “Letty Baxter. But just call me Pops. I can’t seem to get anyone to call me anything else anyway.”

“You’re Smiths’ parents?”

“Adoptive, if your wondering at our age. Found him mewling like a wild thing in the woods when I was already passing thirty-nine. Maggie of course was much younger, seemed to stay on twenty-five for about ten years.” This earned him a sharp bark from the kitchen. “But she carried that age so well it seemed a shame to get rid of it.”

Now Smiths was inside, his boots slipped off and left by the door, and taking orders from Maggie in the kitchen. Tye watched him out of the corner of his eyes, drifting away from the old man only occasionally to see the big man maneuver between pots and across the small table while also remaining out of his mother’s busy way.

“In the woods?” Tye asked the old man, “Who’d leave a baby in the woods? Surely on someone’s door was a better option? or best, the doctors.”

“Ah, it was different times, back then. Different times. Not as many people here. Most of em young men working, few families following up. But an unclaimed baby is no small matter. No doubt whosever it was wanted it kept quiet as possible. Maybe they hopped Smiths wouldn’t make it all. But he’s a strong lad. Much too stubborn to die that way.”

Tye tried a smile, but the thought of a tiny Smiths left out in the wilderness with no protection tightening his chest terribly.

“Aw, don’t worry bout it too much, son. I have another theory, if you’d like to hear it.” The old man was smiling at him and Tye nodded.

Then, as his manners kicked in again, he said, “Oh, please have a seat. Make yourself at home. If you’d like there are some beers in the fridge, or wine on the top shelf.”

“Oh, don’t mind a beer if its alright. Would you like one?”

Tye shook his head and “pops” slipped off into the kitchen. And for a minute the whole tiny family was crammed into his little kitchen area, all busy, talking over and between each other, and managing their coordination perfectly. Adopted he may be, but Smiths fit perfectly, harmoniously, with his little parents. Like sycamore among ferns. Shading and protecting, but also supported.

Then Smiths was approaching him and Tye had a faint guilty rhythm to the new speed of his heart. When he was close enough Tye managed to stumble out, “Thanks, for … taking care of me today.”

Smiths paused and a smile cracked over his almost stern features, “Its ok, baby, I enjoy taking care of you.”

The endearment twisted against Tye’s throat and he couldn’t stop the pleased pull of his lips, or the sudden lightness in his head. All of which only got worse when Smiths bent down fully and placed a hard kiss against Tye’s lips. But it was gone as quickly as it came and Tye felt the absence acutely. “But I’m still going to have to scold you for wandering around without proper boots.”

The implications of that statement curled around Tye’s spine and ran shivers through his belly and into his groin.

The moment was lost when Maggie, who despite her sweet appearance had a fierce tone, crept up on Smiths and pinched his arm smartly, “Don’t torture the poor boy. I could recount more than a few moments of stupidity in your so very short life. A life which you won’t get to enjoy much longer if you don’t finish with me in the kitchen.”

Smiths smiled almost contritely and pecked her cheek before hurrying back to the kitchen. Maggie huffed and pinned her hands on her wide hips. From one hand a dirty spatula stuck out like a weapon, and Tye was struck by her quaint, almost stereotypical appearance.

“Sorry, love, that I still haven’t managed to beat some sense into that boy.”

“Oh, no, ma’am. He’s just concerned. And it was a silly thing for me to do. I suppose I let my common sense run away from me.”

Maggie paused, her eyes focusing on the boy sitting gingerly at the edge of his seat. His gaze was drifted to the kitchen and watched Smiths moved around the kitchen, an the corners of his lips were pulled into the slightly smile.

Pops steppe up by her side, popping the lid off of a cold beer bottle. Maggie cast him a fond scowl, “Don’t fill up on that liquid bread before I get dinner on the table.”

Pops held up his hands peacefully and Maggie huffed and returned to the kitchen. Pops chuckled to himself and settled onto a corner of the couch, his bones creaking slightly as he controlled his fall.

“So, about my theory,” Pops said, before pausing to resettling himself more comfortably. Which was just as well as Tye needed that moment to recall their conversation. What was it about? Oh, Smiths. Adopted. “Well,” the old man continued, “ I reckon no one could abandon as cute a baby as little Smiths was so I figure that some Fae or other was racing through their woods on their moonlight horses and was carrying Smiths out with them, a first ride, as it were. The path is dark and though full grown fae don’t need lights of any kind to know their way, and their horses hardly could trip over things in our world, they might get so lost in their passion and forget such a tiny bundle in their arms.” Tye must have had a incredulous look on his face, or at least confused, because the old man moved into deeper detail, “Since they only get to ride once a month, with the true full moon, it is a moment of ecstasy. So I reckon smiths, being the wriggling little thing he was, slipped from their grasp for a little adventure. Didn’t know he’d get stuck on our side. But sure enough the time for riding passed and him left all alone, and that’s how I found him. Naked and free and wailing something wild.”

Maggie called from the kitchen and Pops let a wince tug at his face, “Ah, must be getting close to eatin.” With a heave he managed to stand again and move back into the kitchen.

Tye sat back in his chair, he tugged on a loose lock of hair near his ear, his teeth caught at the corner of his bottom lip while he stared across the room, unfocused on the open door of his study.

When Smiths came over a moment later to bring him to the table Tye was doubled over and clutching his sides desperately. Smiths dropped onto his haunches, trying to get a look at his face, “Tye? Baby? You okay? Does it really hurt that bad?”

Tye threw his head back, very nearly smacking right into Smiths, and let out a deep laugh. Smiths smiled faintly and rested his hands on Tye’s knees, waiting patiently for an explanation…But Tye just kept laughing. And the one time he managed to look at Smiths directly he went directly back into fits of giggles harder than before.
Impatient of waiting Smiths surged up and caught Tye in a kiss, his tongue slipping just slightly into that gasping mouth and swallowing all the gasped breaths until Tye began to kiss him back just as fervently. Tye nipped at his lip and lapped against the wound. Smiths moved in closer, hooking his arms around Tye’s back and dragging him across the chair.

A none-too-gentle cough from the kitchen saved him from complete and total embarrassment but not, apparently, Tye. Who was flushing so hard Smiths though he must be light headed. With a sigh, but hungry enough to want dinner over a bed, Smiiths stood and gave a hand to help Tye up, “So what had you laughing so well?”

Tye looked up at him and seemed nearly to start again when he said, “You’re Pops told me his theory about your less than earthly origins.”

“So?” Smiths quirked and eyebrow, it was an amusing story, but not that amusing. And Tye wouldn’t be laughing at his Pops semi-delusional mental state.

“Well, I was thinking. Basically, you’re a Fairy! Of both natures!” And this had Tye giggling all over again.

Smitsh frowned a bit, watching the too-pleased face of his lover, before bending down and swiping Tye up into his arms, which earned him a loud protest.

Tye struggled, but not enough to free himself, and Smiths deposited him squarely into a chair at the table, occupying the one directly across form him. The occupants were for a moment silent, warm food filling the cabin with sweet smells and a homey feel, the soft sounds of night drawing the nostalgia of memory-making to the surface, then Smiths turned to his Pops, “I forbid you from telling him any more stories about my childhood.”

Tye smiled slightly, watching the faint blush dust across Smiths face. Maggie swept in with scolding and threats to write all the stories down and have them published before Pops calmed her with a compliment to the food.

The dinner was warm, the way only a close family dinner could feel. Tye enjoyed the food, it was hearty and practically melted against his tongue. Maggie kept up most of the conversation and occasionally Tye would offer up an anecdote or opinion but most of his attention remained reserved for Smiths who never abandoned his almost bullying masculinity but would cave at unexpected moment to apologize in a mumble that reminded Tye of a boy who didn’t know he was getting into trouble until he was too far in to get out. And then when Maggie and Pops were joining in loving banter, him sweet and soft, she sharp and scolding, Tye would catch Smiths watching him. The heat and focus in that gaze stole Tye’s breath and pooled like a heavy burn in his stomach. It was disconcerting being the center of such devoted attention, was there something wrong with him? Food on his face? A weird expression? He couldn’t remember anyone devoting so much focus to him. And when he looked up again, to that unwavering gaze, the muscle in shi chest beat a bit harder, pressed a bit more insistently against his ribs, as though it would fly from his body altogether and give itself completely to however Smiths would have him.

The meal finished eventually, the food packaged and stored while Tye and Maggie sat at the table with tea and talked in quiet, almost sleepy tones. And when they left, Pops nearly carried his wife to the car, settling her in the passenger side before taking the wheel and driving off with an absent wave out the window.

Tye watched from the door frame where he had seen them off, “Will they make it home alright? Should you drive them?”

Smiths chuckled as he came back up the stairs, “My Pops is a trooper, he’ll be all right. And I don’t want the smacking I’d get for leaving you again.”

Tye smiled and opened his arms when Smiths got close enough. Pulling the massive body down to him, Tye pushed a warm kiss up into the mouth that had been tempting him all night.

Smiths wrapped his arms around Tye’s back and hauled him up close. When the kiss ended Tye rested his head against the crook of Smiths’ neck. It smelled vaguely like dinner, salty with the day, but mostly tangy with the foreign and familiar tanginess Tye associated with everything Smiths was. Masculine, boyish, sweet, hard-headed, impetuous, endearing, and, a quiet place deep in his heart whispered, mine. He’s mine.

A/N: So quick! Ah! And fairly long! Well, i tried to take in everyone's comments and make this a very good chapter. But i still think this is like a filler. I'm hoping to make some serious headway in the next chapter :) And I must dedicate this chapter to Nekoii-desu for being so dedicated a reviewer! Glad you are enjoying it!(P.S. For an inkling of what the next chapter will contain listen to Lenka's "Trouble Is A Friend")