Stone Cold Lover

 

Chapter 2:



Darien worked steadily for the rest of the evening before conking on the couch in the staff lounge. He’d had less than a month to set up the new show and there was still so much work to do! Exhausted, Darien let sleep take him.



It was quiet. The beautiful voice had left him. It must be night time. Until his male returned, he could do nothing but wait. Wait for the man with the beautiful voice to come back for him.

~*~*~*~



The next morning, Darien was down in the basement again with a horde of workers, ready to start setting everything up. "Alright you bunch," he called around a bagel smeared in cream cheese, "I want everything in Lot A and D in the west upper wing and everything in B in the west lower wing. Put C and E in the hall and foyer. The areas are already marked. Let's get to it!"



Darien shoved the rest of the bagel into his mouth as the flurry of movement began. He glanced occasionally at his statue (though when he started to be his he didn't know) but was preoccupied most of the time with the moving.

OW! The hell?! He was fragile. These damn people were jostling him about. But he heard his male's voice, so that made it a little more tolerable.

After many grueling hours of work, things had been moved to their proper places. Everyone was gone and Darien was left to take stock of things and note lighting positions. Once again he had a bagel smeared with cream cheese. It was obvious that Darien and cooking didn't get along very well.



"So," He started, shoving the treat into his mouth. "What do you think? I'm not sure if I should move the lion next to the bust or the bust next to you." Darien mused thoughtfully. "I like you here though, right in the middle for everyone to see. I wonder who created you. Probably some famous, famous artisan, you know? Oh maybe you were his lover. Maybe you were Raphael’s lover or something?" Darien chattered. "I wish you were my lover. Then I'd show mom that I'm not worthless...or crazy."



The man continued on, explaining about all the things and places he'd show the statue. And of course they would have lots of fun and Darien wouldn't feel embarrassed or stutter. It'd be perfect.



He listened to all of the bustle before he realized he was alone with chocolate voice again. This guy was actually really funny, if a bit of a dork, and he was laughing, not knowing a muffled version of the sound was coming from his chest.



Darien paused mid conversation and perked up. He squinted at his statue before pushing his glasses back up his nose. What...the hell?

"I hope you’re making noises...otherwise I might be in trouble." Curious now, Darien got closer to the statue and laid an ear against the slim chest. He wasn't sure if he could hear anything or not. Shit, it was just marble after all!

He could feel the male's ear against his chest and he wondered what he was doing. He wished he could see him or ask him. Damned spell.



"Yeah. Yeah, I'm crazy," Darien decided aloud as he sat back on his haunches. Then, he put his face squarely in front of the statue's groin and in the man in him just couldn't NOT look.

"You have a nice dick." Of course he would have never said this to a real person, but he was alone in his museum so it was okay.



"Mine's bigger though." He teased with a laugh, walking off to the lounge again for another bagel and some coffee.

He was rather proud of his dick, and cried out with a "Hey!" of insult—the sound escaping him. Then he thought of the prospect of a bigger dick and how he so wished for one. A hard one. He was so hungry.



"Could you please stop making noises? You're freaking me out." Darien called from the lounge. This was the second time he'd heard a weird sound. Whether it was the statue or something else, he wasn't sure. "You're not possessed are you?' The curator demanded, appearing once again. "Cause if you're a ghost, hurry up and leave. I've got a show to run. Okay?"

"No," he grumped. He was the one who was the statue, this guy had it good.



"GAH!" Darien cried out, tripping over his own feet and falling flat on his butt. "Did you just say...no? Oh god, I really am crazy." He moaned.



Wait, the guy could hear him? He could be heard?!

"Whohooo!" he cried out in exuberance. This damned curse must be wearing off!



"Oh stop, please stop!" Darien wailed, slapping his hands over his ears. He was muttering what sounded like "impossible" over and over again. This was insane!



 He paused. Was he hurting the male? The guy sounded like he already had a screw or two loose anyway, maybe he should stop for fear of pushing the guy off the deep end. 



He did want to see him though. Just for the hell of it, he tried to open his eyes. They twitched and lifted only a centimeter.



He had a talking statue. He had a talking statue in his museum and did it just...blink? Darien groaned again. It turned out what everyone had said was true. He was insane! 



"Okay, okay. Just calm down," He told himself as he stood. "You're dreaming. The statue isn't alive and it certainly isn't talking. I'll just...go to sleep—er—wake up, and everything will be normal again. Did you hear me statue? No more talking!"

At that Darien dashed from the room.



Whoa, the old boy sounded like he needed some heavy meds. But he wasn't crazy, at least not pertaining to this. If only he could be free. He sighed, quietly this time.