9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine

L A felt lighter than he had in a long time.

He had something to look forward to—a night out with friends to celebrate his artwork. He could have never imagined doing that with Gavin, much less while working the insane hours that the funeral home had demanded. There was even a chance that he might make some money, though he told himself that wasn't the only reason he was doing this.

Still.

To have someone—anyone—enjoy his art enough that they wanted to buy it?

That…

That was a first.

Back at home, he shooed Cass away long enough to change into a T-shirt and pajama pants. He wanted to be comfortable, and his back was complaining from the surge of activity this week. Once he was dressed again, he slowly headed downstairs.

Before he'd reached the last step, Cass was there to sweep him up into his arms. "Come, come! You must be exhausted."

"Ugh. Hi. Yup." LA grunted, his spine twinging a bit from being carried like a rag doll. He couldn't bring himself to tell Cass to put him down though, enjoying the closeness as Cass hauled him toward the kitchen. "Ready for drugs, rum, and couch."

"Oh!" Cass turned right around, now headed for the couch.

"Hey!" LA wiggled. "What are you doing?"

"I can fetch your drugs and rum. You need to rest."

"I can make myself a damn drink, you know," LA grumbled.

"Yes, you can. But you've already had a big, big day!" Cass chided as he gently laid LA across the couch. He bowed his head to kiss LA's forehead. "Please. Let me."

"I…" LA blushed. "Thank you."

"Which drugs am I procuring?"

"Cyclobenzaprine. Little white pills. Just one."

"Anything else?"

"No." LA smiled softly. "Thanks, Cass."

"You are so very welcome!" Cass hummed as he practically skipped back to the kitchen, a flurry of bubbles trailing behind him.

LA snorted out a little laugh and sighed, relaxing against the cushions.

Yes, Cass's eternal sunshine mood was annoying, but it was also sweet.

And a bit endearing.

And maybe just a tad infectious.

Like a fungus.

LA glanced around the room, thinking the walls looked strange without all his paintings. He missed the haunted faces, the memories they held, and a bolt of panic struck his very core.

What if taking the paintings was a mistake?

He could hear his mother's voice in the back of his mind, scolding him for thinking he could ever make something of himself as an artist, and he was nauseated. He sat up with a grunt, dragging his fingers through his hair.

Shit, shit, shit.

Maybe he could call Brandon. Text him. Something.

There might still be time to stop him from hanging any of them up.

"So, I know you're going to be mad at me, but I read the little warning labels on the side of the bottle," Cass announced as he walked back in with a small plate and a glass of what appeared to be chocolate milk. "But it definitely says you should not have alcohol while taking this medication, so—"

"Have you seen my phone?" LA patted down his pockets.

"What?"

"My phone." LA stood up, wincing. "I need to call Brandon."

Cass set the plate and glass down on the coffee table so he could reach for LA. "Hey, hey, what's the matter?"

"I want the paintings back," LA snapped. "Okay? Taking them up there was a stupid fucking idea. I should have never let you talk me into it! Fuck!"

Cass recoiled. "What's wrong? Why are you so upset?"

"Because my paintings are fucking stupid!" LA barked. "All of this is fucking stupid! I'm not going to make a million fucking dollars selling my bullshit at a coffee shop! That's not going to pay the bills, okay?"

Cass blinked, his wings fluttering anxiously. "Did I do something to upset you?"

"No!" LA flinched. "It's not you. It's…"

"It's what?" Cass prompted.

LA sat back down and cradled his face in his hands. "I don't know. I, I looked around and saw the missing paintings and I just…" His eyes were hot. "Fuck."

He had no idea what the hell was wrong with him.

He was about to burst into tears and he didn't even know why.

Cass slowly sat beside LA, though he made no effort to touch him. "Hey. I'm right here. Whatever you're feeling, whatever it is going on, I'm here." He offered a kind smile and then his paw.

LA stared at it, gasped in a deep breath, and almost exhaled a sob. He grabbed Cass's paw and clung to it, leaning in close. He was afraid to speak, certain that he would start crying on the spot if he did.

"It's all right," Cass soothed. "Everything is all right. Whenever you're ready, you can talk to me."

LA scoffed bitterly. "Is this Cass the imp who wants me to regain my strength talking? Or Cass the imp who wants to get in my fucking pants?"

Cass just kept smiling. "It's Cass the imp who cares about you. Even when you're a meanie head."

"Shit." LA deflated instantly. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I'm such a dick."

"I know." Cass beamed. "I like you anyway."

LA hung his head. "I… I don't know what happened. I looked around, saw the blank spots where my paintings were, and…"

"And?"

"And all I could hear was my fucking mother's voice blabbing away in my brain about how stupid they are and what a waste and all this bullshit." LA rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. "I hate it. I fucking hate it. I hate how she gets to me, and I can't stop it."

"Brandon said it was a toxic relationship," Cass said softly. "Is that true?"

"Probably. Yeah. I don't know." LA rubbed his thumb over Cass's knuckles. "Nothing is ever good enough for her. It never has been. She constantly puts me down, makes me feel like shit no matter what I do. Even if I do what the fuck she wants, I still didn't do it right." He huffed out a breath. "When I try to stand up to her… I don't know what happens. I just suddenly feel like shit and I shut down and I can't. Or, my personal fucking favorite, I get angry and lose my shit and then she makes me feel like crap for saying anything."

Cass stretched out his wing to drape around LA's shoulders like a blanket. "Family can be difficult. Especially parents. But you know, it is possible to love someone and not have them be a part of your life. Especially if they're hurting you."

"I wish it was that easy." LA frowned. "I feel like something is wrong with me. I can't just cut her off. I can't. Just thinking about it makes my fuckin' heart hurt and I feel physically fucking sick."

"Because you love her."

"Yeah. I mean, she's my mother. What the fuck do you do when your mother is a monster?" LA cringed. "Sorry. I'm sure that's insulting to monsters somehow."

"It's all right. I don't mind." Cass used his wing to hug LA closer. "But you need to know that there's nothing wrong with setting boundaries with her."

"What do you mean?"

"If you're not comfortable with cutting her out of your life or blocking her, as Brandon suggested, you can limit the information you share with her. The more you tell her about what's going on in your life, the more she can use to manipulate you. If you do choose to share things with her, limit them to safe topics. Like, how you recently enjoyed an incredible Firefly marathon!"

LA smiled weakly. "We still need to finish that, you know."

"Yes, we do. But something else you should probably keep in mind? Drag your expectations for her right down to rock bottom."

"Why?"

"Well, you already know that she hurts you. Don't set yourself up for failure by thinking that any future interaction with her will be any different than what you've already experienced."

LA scoffed. "You mean I should just expect her to always be fucking awful?"

"You'd probably save yourself some heartache. And a fair bit of disappointment. If she actually manages to be kind when you speak to her? Well, yay! Look at that! A pleasant surprise! But otherwise, I wouldn't invest too much more of your precious energy in expecting anything more from her. From what I'm gathering, she sounds like a narcissist. They tend to be big ol' black holes who take and take and, well—"

"Like Gavin," LA said quietly.

"Yes." Cass squeezed LA's hand.

"I've let her beat me down and control me, to constantly make me feel like shit about every little fucking thing I do and everything that's important to me… Just like Gavin did." LA's eyes stung again. "Fuck." He stared up at Cass. "Why the fuck am I like this?"

"Elly, no, no." Cass shook his head quickly. "There is nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Nothing at all. Their actions define what horrible people they are. Not you."

"But I feel so fucking stupid now."

"Don't," Cass insisted. "Recognizing that there's a problem is the first step. You saw how Gavin was abusing you and now you're able to see that same pattern in how your mother treats you. You can't change her. And that's okay. What you can change is you and how you deal with her. Take that control back, set boundaries, and focus on putting your energy into people who will give you a fair return. Like Brandon! I like Brandon."

"And you," LA said softly. "You've been so good to me. And patient. And kind. Even when I didn't deserve it."

"Everyone deserves kindness. Especially when they don't think they do."

"Yeah? 'Cause I pretty much feel like crap right about now. I was such an asshole to you."

"Try to think of it as growing pains," Cass suggested. "You feel bad because you recognize now that your behavior was harmful. When you look back on those moments and ugh , feel like you want to cringe , it just shows how much you've grown."

LA snorted. "You really have some shiny sweet Hallmark card answer for everything, don't you?"

"Hmm. Well, not everything." Cass kissed the top of LA's head. "I hope it helps. I know I tend to ramble on quite a bit."

"What? You?" LA gasped. "Never."

"I detect sarcasm."

"No shit." LA laughed a little, and the sweet levity he'd experienced earlier returned. He felt light once more, snuggling into Cass's arms and holding him as tightly as he could. "Thank you."

"You are so very welcome, Elly." Cass purred. "If you really do want to reclaim the paintings, I will not stop you. But I very much hope you reconsider. You're very talented, and while it may not ever make you a fortune, I do think you have a gift that should be shared with the world."

"Thank you. I, uh, I really appreciate that." LA fidgeted. "Art was always an escape for me. I used to be… Well, I was in a bad place for a long time when I was younger. I needed somewhere to put everything I was feeling."

"Ah, and that's how you got into painting?"

"Yeah. Most of them are, well…" LA had to abruptly sit up straight as his back twitched. "Shit. Sorry. Can I stretch out?"

"Of course, sweetheart." Cass scooted to the end of the couch. "Do you want your medicine?"

"Yeah, I got it." LA leaned forward, hissing in pain as he snatched up the pill. He took it with a big swig of chocolate milk and then lay down, dropping his head into Cass's lap. He reached up for Cass's arm, making grabby motions.

Cass smiled as he gently draped his arm over LA's chest. "Better?"

"Yeah." LA hugged Cass's forearm like a teddy bear, grateful for its warmth.

"What were you saying?"

"Hmm?"

"About your paintings. Most of them are what?"

"Self-portraits." LA looked up at the closest canvas and sighed.

"They're what ?" Cass frowned. "All those haunted faces… They're you?"

"It's me, how I felt, going through all of that bullshit with that bitch torturing me in school and my family doing fucking nothing. Just leaving me to rot in my own feelings, trapped and fucking helpless."

"Oh, Elly." Cass whimpered quietly. "I am so very sorry. That you felt that way, that you hurt so much. People like that girl are the absolute worst kind of human. They're hollow inside, so they feel the need to belittle others and—"

"And she's about to be my sister-in-law."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks." LA sucked the last of the drink down and then slammed the empty glass on the coffee table. "Her and my brother went to the same community college and fell madly in love." He rolled his eyes. "I begged him not to date her, and hey, it's not like he didn't know what she did to me. He just didn't care."

Cass curled his tail around LA's middle and squeezed. "You have every right to be upset. Your family is completely invalidating your experiences and what this girl did to you. They don't get to decide what you should or should not be comfortable with, and you have no obligation to subject yourself to what would obviously be a stressful, if not extremely traumatic situation."

"Yeah. They're assholes." LA closed his eyes. "It's one of the biggest things my mom has been on me about. She just doesn't hear me when I try to explain to her how completely fucked it is."

"So. Stop trying." Cass nodded firmly. "That needs to be one of the boundaries you set for her. No discussion of the wedding. If she isn't willing to hear you out and acknowledge your feelings, then you are under no obligation to hear her nonsense."

"They're expecting me to show up to the rehearsal," LA said with a cringe.

"Well, you never agreed to come, did you?"

"No."

"Then that's on your mother for spreading false information!" Cass frowned. "Where is your brother in all of this?"

"Haven't heard a peep." LA shrugged. "We were never that close anyway, but him dating my fucking bully kinda killed any hopes of a nice, brotherly relationship."

"And the bully girl?"

"Katie? No." LA could feel the muscle relaxer kicking in and making his body feel heavy. Either that or he was simply that exhausted. "She tried to message me on some social media stuff a few years back, but I blocked her everywhere I could."

"A wise decision."

"Wish it was that easy to block emotions." LA sighed. "Like, here, no more shitty feelings of obligation. Just click."

"It will get easier," Cass promised. "While the weight of such pain may never decrease, you will grow stronger and be able to carry it more easily."

LA smirked, peeking open one eye to stare at Cass.

"What?" Cass pouted. "Do I sound like a Hallmark card again?"

"Just a little."

"Well! Here. I have just one more for you." Cass petted LA's hair. "Your family is awful and wrong to have hurt you and for continuing to hurt you. So very wrong. And while I am sorry that you suffered, I am proud of you."

LA blinked. "What for?"

"For taking that pain and making it into something beautiful." Cass nodded at the paintings. "You took agony and made it into art."

LA's eyes burned and he wiped at them. "Uh, thanks."

"Of course, Elly." Cass purred, rubbing LA's chest. "You know, if you are concerned about the lack of paintings, you could always make new ones."

"Seriously?"

"Why not?" Cass smiled encouragingly. "It was a productive way for you to process your feelings when you were younger."

"Maybe." LA's fingers twitched a little. "But I don't have any paint—"

A pack of acrylic paint, a large canvas, and a bundle of brushes appeared on the coffee table in a flurry of confetti.

LA laughed.

"Is this all right?" Cass asked.

"It's pretty perfect actually." LA smiled, reaching out to touch the canvas. "Wow."

He could see sweeping colors standing out against the darkness, a rainbow wave and golden glittering orbs…

"Okay. Dammit." LA grunted as he sat up. "Help me clear off the table."

"Yay!" Cass cheered, jumping to his feet.

LA opened up the paints one by one. "Look, it's probably not going to be very good."

"I'm sure it will be splendid, Elly." Cass dropped another kiss on LA's head. "I am so very excited that you've been touched by the creative spark!"

"Maybe later, somethin' else can touch me," LA said casually.

"Wait…" Cass tilted his head. "Is that a euphemism for something sexual?"

"Yes. Yes, it is."

"Oh!" Cass giggled. He stood tall, his tail twitching as he teased, "Well, maybe if you're lucky, something will touch your something." He wagged his brow and gave LA a smoldering stare. " Sexually ."

LA swallowed back a laugh. "Looking forward to it."

Cass tidied up the table so LA could center the canvas and line up his paints. "Is there anything else you need for your creative process?"

"Oh, definitely gonna need some Alan Tudyk."

" Firefly ?"

"Fuck yeah, Firefly ."

Cass handed him the remote. "Thoughts on lunch?"

LA shook his head, punching the buttons to get back to the last episode they'd watched. "Not hungry."

"But all you've had today is peach crumble."

"Then I'll eat more of that." LA smirked. "It's a healthy lunch. It has fruit in it."

"I'm not sure that's true." Cass sat back beside LA, chuckling. "Well, thoughts on dinner then?"

"Uh." LA focused on the canvas, squirting out a blob of black paint right in the middle. "I picked last time, so… How about you pick and I pay?"

"Oh! How lovely!" Cass gushed. "We're taking turns!"

"That's how it should be, right?" LA smiled up at Cass.

"Yes." Cass returned LA's warm smile and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

LA melted, forgetting all about the paint. He slid his fingers into Cass's fur, dragging them up to pet the base of Cass's horns. Cass's strong arms wrapped around him, and he hugged him close, all but ready to jump into his lap.

Okay, so it wouldn't be a jump per se, more of a limping hop, but whatever.

He knew every new relationship had a blissful honeymoon period, but the powerful passion he felt for Cass was different. He was obviously attracted to Cass and Cass to him, but he also knew Cass respected him.

That was new.

Cass genuinely wanted LA to succeed, to be happy, and he was willing to listen and even compromise. It had only been a few days and yet Cass had already shown LA more love and understanding than Gavin had in years, or even his own family, who'd had a literal lifetime.

His mother had given fucking birth to him and couldn't be bothered to produce a single ounce of empathy.

But this…

Being with Cass meant something.

LA moaned when Cass's tongue teased between his lips, and he tried catching it with his own, trying to urge it deeper. He clung to Cass's neck and struggled to press closer, needing more of Cass's firm touch. He sighed pleasurably as Cass's tail wound around his waist, but then he yelped when it sat him back on the couch. "Hey!"

"You have a painting to do!" Cass scolded, though he sounded a bit out of breath. "And we're supposed to be taking things slow, remember?"

"Making out is pretty slow."

Cass smiled shyly. "Mmm, not when you make out with me like that ."

"Gettin' you all hot and bothered, Cassie?"

"Very." Cass cleared his throat and reached down to adjust himself.

LA craned to get a peek, but he couldn't see much through Cass's thick fur. He assumed whatever was happening was inside Cass's slit, and he longed to reach over and touch him. His own body was stirring with arousal, and knowing that Cass was so turned on only made LA want him even more.

Cass caught LA looking and playfully swatted at him. "Painting. You. Art!"

LA laughed. "So, after I'm done painting…?"

"No."

"What about after dinner?"

"Well, I did say that something might touch other somethings." Cass ducked his head bashfully. "If you're lucky."

"Hey, haven't I made a lot more awesome progress? Worked through more of my issues? I think I deserve a reward."

"Painting is your reward." Cass tried to hide a smile. "And yes, I am very proud of you for being so open to discussing your issues, but you should be doing that for yourself. Not for the promise of pleasure ."

"But I like pleasure." LA grinned, picking up a brush. " Sexually ."

Cass pointed at the TV. "There. Alan is on screen. There's your pleasure, you little minx."

LA snickered a bit as he spread the black paint over the canvas. "Yeah, yeah. But what I'm hearing is that there might be a chance of some pleasurable dessert."

Cass poked LA with his tail. "A small chance."

"But a chance."

"Yes."

"I'll take it."

LA split his attention between painting the canvas and the show, enjoying reciting lines along with Cass. He didn't think he'd ever painted with an audience before, and he was oddly at ease with Cass peeking over every few minutes to see his progress. LA didn't mind, though it was tempting to poke at Cass with the brush when he peered particularly close.

Over top of the black paint, LA dropped big drops of various colors.

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple.

A rainbow.

He smeared the colors around to create bright streaks, but they didn't have the texture he had in mind. He ignored Cass's fussing as he got up and headed into the kitchen, fumbling around in the trash until he found the paper wrappers from his egg rolls and the cling wrap that had been on the tub of Cass's egg drop soup.

Back at the table, he tore the paper wrappers into tiny pieces to layer within the rainbow streaks like scales. It created motion and depth, and he used wadded up blobs of the cling wrap to cap off each wave of the rainbow paint until it looked like two giant tsunamis crashing into each other against a black sea.

The very center under the waves remained blank and LA stared at it for a long time, trying to translate what he was seeing in his brain to the canvas.

"Are you all right?" Cass asked quietly.

"Mmm?" LA glanced up at him. "What?"

"You haven't blinked for several minutes."

"Just thinking." LA gestured to the canvas. "I can see what I want in my head, but I don't know how to get it on there yet. It's fine." He smiled as he looked over the colorful waves. "I really like it so far. It feels good to paint again."

"It's very pretty."

"Thank you." LA nudged Cass.

"Aw, conjuring up acrylics is nothing." Cass chuckled. "I was happy to—"

"No, for inspiring me." LA pointed to the waves. "That's you. You rushing into my life and flooding it with fuckin' rainbows and sunshine and washing away all the darkness. And this?" He pointed to the blank part. "This is gonna be me."

"Are you not going to draw one of your creepy faces?" Cass tilted his head curiously. "That's what you usually do, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but…" LA smiled a bit. "I don't think that's me anymore. I might be someone else. So, I gotta think about it. Inside my head, I see… gold. Something shiny? But small. New. I'm not sure yet."

A tube of metallic gold paint appeared beside the canvas.

"Thanks. As soon as I know what to do with it, I'll let you know." LA chuckled. "Half of being an artist is just staring at your work and trying to figure out what to do next."

"Well, whatever you do, I'm sure it will be lovely." Cass rubbed LA's cheek. "Here, you've got a bit…"

"What? Paint?" LA snorted. "Yeah, that happens."

"It's red and some purple." Cass licked the pad of his thumb.

LA immediately recoiled. "Oh! Don't you dare!"

"What? The paint is dry! I can't remove it without moisture!"

"Fuck, ugh, don't say moisture !" LA squirmed, trying to dodge Cass's paw like he was in the Matrix. "And don't put your spit on my face! That's gross!"

Cass grinned. "You don't mind when it's in your mouth!"

"Yeah, because it's attached to your tongue!" LA burst out laughing. "It's not the same!" He squealed as Cass playfully pinned him down. "Fuck! Nope, nope, nope."

"Oh!" Cass paused. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine—"

"Then come here!"

LA laughed and writhed, turning his head back and forth to avoid Cass's wet paw. "No! Ah! Quit it!" His heart pounded faster and faster, and his struggling was creating some fantastic friction as Cass pressed between his legs. He panted hard, staring up at Cass.

Cass had stopped trying to poke LA's face and was looking at him with a gaze that brought all the blood in LA's body to a titillating simmer. He purred, a low rumble that put a tremble in his voice as he murmured, "Elly—"

LA pulled Cass down into a fierce kiss and didn't let go.