Things That Go Smack in the Night - by LP

This story was gifted to me from LP. 
I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did! 






Arvin gave the wooden bars another hopeless shake. The lock chattered like mocking laughter. He turned his back, huddling into the corner with a shuddering sigh. His eyes burned but he scrubbed them hard with the back of his hand and stared into the darkness at the back of the cage. 


The rattle of another lock echoed down the stone corridor, and the ponderous scrape and creak of the heavy door to the dungeons being pushed open. Arvin sat bolt upright, his heart thundering. He gripped the bars in trembling hands, straining through the gloom for some warning of his approaching doom.


A shadow, a blacker patch in the dimness, advanced down the corridor, backlit by the one guttering torch Arvin had set in the bracket by the door.  The monster came into view and jerked to a stop, looming just far enough away that Arvin couldn’t make out anything but the terrifying size of it, the haze of hair on its bulky arms. Arms that were currently planted, fist first, on its hips.


“Of all the stupid…”


The voice was deep and rumbly, but remarkably human. It shook its head in a very familiar expression of disbelief and disgust. It came closer. Hands reached out and Arvin shrank back.


“What are you doing in there?”


Now that it was closer, Arvin could make out the features of a man. A very tall, muscular man, but a man all the same. Heavy brows were knitted over eyes that looked black in the low light. A mouth that Arvin would have found very interesting under other circumstances was thinned in disapproval.


“Well,” he demanded, working the lock as he spoke. “I said what are you doing in there?”


“I—” Arvin stuttered, “I was just looking. But the door closed and I couldn’t open it.”


The man scoffed. “Silly boy, that’s what it’s designed to do.”


Arvin drew himself up to the entirety of his inconsiderable height. 


“I’m not a boy.”


“Might as well be, for all the sense you seem to be lacking. What 
are you doing in my dungeon anyway?”


“I, I wanted to see if the stories about the castle were true. I bet Brant that it was all a bunch of nonsense.”


“And what have you concluded?”


“Are you going to eat me?”


The man huffed a strange laugh. “I wasn’t planning on it. Would you like me to?”


Arvin’s brow furrowed. “Ummm, no. Please, sir.”


The man shrugged. “I had a stew prepared anyway. Wouldn’t want to waste it.”


The lock opened and the man swung wide the cage door. “Come on then.”


Arvin eyed him warily. 


“Well? I said I wouldn’t eat you, didn’t I?”


Arvin inched forward. “Just making sure.”


“For such a fearless lad you’re a bit nervous, aren’t you?”


“I’m not nervous.”


The man’s mouth quirked. “Ok, kid.”


Arvin slid past him and darted a few feet away. “I’m—am I free to go?”


The man shrugged. “You will be, on Monday morning.”


“But, but that’s three days away!”


“Well if you’re on a schedule, why on earth did you decide to explore the wicked wizard’s castle anyway?”


“I didn’t believe the stories.”


“Well, some of that’s smart, I suppose. Not many of them are true.”


“So why won’t you let me leave?”


“You’re free to leave, with my blessing. But the forest’s impassible on high days and holidays. That part’s true, at least. You just picked a bad time to go adventuring, kid.”


“But—” Arvin bit back a shuddering protest. “But my mother will be worried.”


The man barked a laugh. “If she lets you out without a keeper, I’d say she’s not nearly worried enough.” He smiled to soften the remark. “Sorry, kid, them’s the rules. I didn’t make them up.”


The man turned to leave the dungeon. Arvin hurried to follow him. 


“But aren’t you the wicked wizard?”


“No.”


“Then what are you doing here?”


“I bought the castle from the wizard’s heir. She didn’t want it.”


“You mean the wizard’s dead?”


“Going on ten years now.”


“You’ve been here that long?”


“Most of it.”


“Wow. You don’t look that old.”


The man paused and glowered at Arvin over his shoulder.  Arvin shrank back. 


“I mean—”


“You talk more than is good for you, kid. Just shut up and come along. You’re going to make me burn my stew.”

#

Arvin shoveled spoonfuls of meaty broth into his mouth.


“’Liss id gud,” he mumbled around a mouthful of potatoes. 


“You have appalling manners.”


“And you talk funny.”


“See?”


Arvin frowned, puzzled, but the man only snorted in amusement and went back to eating.


“What’s your name, anyway,” Arvin asked. 


“Thomas. What’s yours?”


“Arvin.” 


“Eat your stew, Arvin.”


The young man bristled at being bossed around, but eyeing the other man’s size out of the corner of his eye, he decided not to say anything. 


“So if you’re not the wizard, what are you doing out here?”


“It’s quiet, and people usually leave me alone.”


“Don’t you like people?”


Thomas lifted one shoulder, still concentrating on his stew. 


“Sometimes. But it’s easier to work with the peace and quiet. If I get lonely I go into town. Except on high days and holidays.” He grinned.


“What kind of work do you do?”


Thomas scraped stew out of his bowl with a hunk of soft, grainy bread. “I’ll show you later. Eat.”

#

Arvin trailed his fingers reverently across the cool marble. “They’re beautiful,” he breathed.


“You like them?” Thomas said, the typical gruffness blunted with something like pleasure.


Arvin wandered in slow, deliberate circles through the sculptures placed about the room. 


“You did these?” 


“It’s a hobby.”


“It’s amazing.”


Arvin jumped at Thomas’s touch on his arm, though it was gentle. 


“It’s late,” Thomas said. 


“I’m OK.”


“But I’m not. And the castle isn’t safe at night. Come on.”


Thomas led him up the stairs and into a large bedroom. There were two plush chairs set in front of a crackling fire, a desk, and a huge bed, draped in maroon silks. Arvin gulped. 


“I…” Arvin’s pulse thumped. All of a sudden he was intensely aware of the man at his shoulder.


“You have to promise me you’ll stay in here all night,” Thomas said.


“Yes, I—what? Won’t you be here to—“


“I’m just down the hall,” Thomas said. “It’s important that you don’t leave this room until I come for you in the morning. The old wizard was paranoid and had a wicked sense of humor. Do you understand?”


Arvin’s mouth was dry. He watched Thomas’s lips, trying to pay attention to the words but from time to time Thomas’ tongue would swipe his bottom lip…


“Yes. Sure,” Arvin answered.


Thomas’s brows drew together. “All right,” he said after a long pause. “Get some rest. I’ll come for you before breakfast.”


“Yeah, OK,” Arvin answered.

#

The castle was twice as intriguing at night. Now that he knew no one who could turn him into a toad lived here, Arvin felt braver than ever. The door to his room opened with only a tiny squeak of the hinges. Arvin held his breath, waiting, but there was no answering stir from the other end of the hall. He crept on tiptoes along the dark corridor and down the stairs. There had been far too many closed doors on that floor. There had to be interesting things behind them. 


The first door on the left, at the bottom of the stairs, opened without protest. Arvin crept in and closed the door behind him. He discovered, with a frustrated huff, that it was a simple study. A large desk across the way was bathed in moonlight from the large window behind it. The walls all around were covered in bookshelves, each one full of books. Arvin hadn’t imagined so many books existed in the whole world. 


But nothing more interesting than that presented. He let himself back out and tried the next door. 


There was only one window in this room, a small, thin thing set too high in the wall to shine on anything but a tiny patch of floor. So what in here was so secret—or so dangerous—that there couldn’t be any other windows?


Arvin kept his back to the door as he waited for his eyes to adjust. Even when the blackness melted into darker patches in a dark space, Arvin couldn’t make anything out. He decided caution was called for so he took only one step away from the door. 


Something snuffled from the far corner. Arvin froze. It sounded like a wild animal, a bear, a wolf…or worse. Arvin reached one hand back for the handle of the door. 


It wasn’t there.


Arvin whirled around, scrabbling all around the frame and face of the door but it was smooth and featureless. There was no handle. 


This time the corner snorted, a deep, dangerous sound, and started to growl. Arvin backed against the wall, his mind racing. The growl was moving closer. He could smell it now, an animal smell, something terrible with an appetite for trespassers. 


The thing stopped growling. The silence was almost worse. Where was it? 


It roared.


Arvin screamed, frantically grabbing about for something, anything to defend himself with. 


The thing began to growl again, even closer now. 


Something heavy landed on Arvin’s shoulder. 


He screamed, spinning around. To find Thomas standing there in a pool of candlelight. 


With a firm grip on Arvin’s shoulder he shook him. 


“What did I tell you?”


“There’s something in here!”


Thomas huffed in frustration. He lifted the candelabra he was carrying. 


“Yes, there’s something in here. Look.”


Arvin looked down to where Thomas was pointing. A small, fluffy dog stood two feet away, eyeing them with his head cocked. 


“That? But it sounded like—“


“I told you the wizard had a wicked sense of humor, didn’t I? The dog sounds like something ten times its size, but it’s harmless.”


“But—”


“But that’s not the point. I told you not to wander, didn’t I?”


“Well, yes, but I thought—“


“Doesn’t matter what you thought. I told you to stay in your room. You clearly have a problem with following instructions and not doing stupid things in general.”


Thomas’s beefy hand clamped down on Arvin’s arm, dragging him along after him out the door and up the stairs. Arvin wanted to protest that he was walking too fast, but he decided he’d better not.


Back in Arvin’s room, Thomas set down the candles, towing Arvin with him to the desk, where he took the straight-backed chair and set it down a few feet away, facing out. He sat down in it, pulling Arvin to stand beside him. Arvin stared at him in shock, anxiety boiling in his belly. 


Thomas curled his fingers in the waistband of Arvin’s breeches, tugging them and his undershorts down with one quick movement.


“Wait!”


But Arvin might as well have said nothing for all the attention Thomas paid him. Arvin was jerked across Thomas’ large lap with frightening ease. 


“Wait, please, I’m sorry.”


“Good.” 


Thomas’ huge hand landed on Arvin’s butt with crack. 


“Yeowch!” Arvin yelped. “That hurt!”


“Good.”


And the conversation seemed to be over. Thomas’ hand fell again. And again and again. He spanked hard and efficiently. Arvin squirmed and squealed but Thomas paid no attention. When he began to spank the lower crease of Arvin’s bottom, Arvin burst into tears. Thomas lit a blazing inferno on Arvin’s butt and he began to think that being mauled by the beast he’d thought he was trapped with only minutes before wouldn’t have hurt this much. 


“Please,” he sobbed. “Please stop. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please.”


Thomas landed four powerful smacks on Arvin’s thighs that made him buck and shout. But then Thomas laid his hot hand on Arvin’s lower back, just above the inferno that was his bottom. Arvin collapsed into a limp heap over Thomas’ lap, sobbing with no care for anything else except how much his bottom hurt.


At some point Arvin realized that Thomas was stroking his back. 


“Shuhhhhh,” he murmured. 


Arvin scrubbed tears from his face and slid off Thomas’ lap, crumpling to his knees at Thomas’ feet, hiding his face in his hands. Thomas stroked once over Arvin’s hair. Arvin dropped his forehead onto Thomas’ thigh, struggling to stop crying. Thomas continued to stroke his hair, saying nothing. 


Finally Arvin rubbed his wet eyes against Thomas’ breeches. 


“I’m sorry,” he gulped.


“Think you can stay in your room for the rest of the night?”


Arvin nodded, not looking up.


Thomas cupped a hand against Arvin’s cheek. “Good.”


He stood and left the room, closing the door behind him, leaving 


Arvin kneeling by the chair, his bottom on fire and his cheek tingling. 

#

Arvin had no idea how he’d be received the next morning, but not sure what other option there was anyway, he went down to breakfast. He was hungry, after all. There was nothing and no one in the kitchen where he’d eaten last night, except the lingering smell of bacon, so he followed it and found a large dining room where Thomas was setting out food. Two places were set. 


“Perfect timing,” he said. “I was about to come and get you.” 


Arvin blushed, though he didn’t know why, except that he felt horribly self-conscious now. Thomas either didn’t notice or ignored it, sitting down at one place and gesturing at the other for Arvin. Arvin sat.


His bottom wasn’t sore, not really. But after last night’s events, and Thomas’ presence, he was very aware of it, and of the other man. Arvin watched him from beneath his lashes. Thomas didn’t have much to say as they ate, though his silence didn’t seem unfriendly. 
They cleared up together. In spite of the castle’s large size and grandeur, Arvin had seen no sight of servants. As the last of the things were washed and put away, a silence fell. Arvin didn’t look up at Thomas.


“I don’t know what I’m allowed to do with my day. I don’t want to…to cause any more trouble.”


Thomas cleared his throat. “I was going to work on my latest project today.” 


Arvin’s head popped up. “Oh, may I watch?”


Thomas frowned. “I don’t like to work with other people interrupting. I need the peace and quiet.”


“I won’t say a word. I just want to watch. I know what you mean, wanting to be left alone. I’m an artist too. That is, I draw sometimes, when I can. But I won’t bother you. Really I won’t. I just want to watch.”


Thomas looked conflicted. “All right,” he finally said. “But if you start jabbering…”


“I won’t. Promise.”


“OK then.”

#

Arvin watched in awe as over the course of the morning, a graceful arm and hand emerged from the lump reaching out from the torso-shaped main stump of marble. Thomas had given him some paper and a stick of charcoal and when he wasn’t watching the other artist, 


Arvin drew the scene before him.


When a deep voice came from over his shoulder, Arvin jumped.


“You have a good eye for light and shadow.”   


Arvin blushed and kept his head bent, not looking up.


“Thank you, so do you. The way you have him turned to catch the light from the windows makes it look like he’s holding a beam of sunlight in his hand.”


Thomas cleared his throat, a hesitant sound.


“Not many people see something like that,” Thomas said.


“But you do.”


“Yes,” he said quietly, “and so do you. I like the way you didn’t let the shadows obscure the sculpture.”


Arvin’s face grew hot again as he realized that each one of the drawings, good use of light or not, didn’t exactly feature the sculpture itself. It was embarrassingly obvious now that the sculptor was the subject of each scene. But Arvin had been so fascinated with the way his shirt hung over those powerful shoulders, moving, rippling as Thomas turned. The delicate way the chisel balanced in those large, strong hands, the concentration in his profile and the way the light caught his face as he stood just there, studying the hand, his chisel poised. 


Arvin fought the urge to squirm in mortification, nothing came to his mind to say or do to make it look like anything but what it was.


“I… yes.” 


The silence stretched.


“Hungry?” Thomas asked.


Arvin expelled a huge sigh.  “Oh yes.” He scrambled from the stool, grateful for the excuse to escape.

#

They ate lunch in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. Thomas didn’t seem mad, and he didn’t seem like the type who would throw a punch at Arvin for admiring the way he looked—if so he’d probably already have done it—but Arvin wondered if he’d be allowed to work in the studio again that afternoon, or if Thomas would make sure Arvin and his unwelcome attention was elsewhere as he worked.


When lunch was cleaned up Arvin hovered awkwardly nearby. 


“I’m going to take a break for the afternoon. Would you like to walk in the garden?”


Arvin stared at him. “Yes. I mean,” he frowned, “there’s nothing dangerous out there, is there?”


Thomas smiled; it was a nice smile, not upset at all. 


“Nothing dangerous at all within the walls. The old wizard liked his walks in the garden. What he didn’t like were people peeking into the rooms with closed doors.”


Arvin blushed but Thomas chuckled and put an arm around Arvin’s shoulders. “Come on, it’s a beautiful day.”


Arvin’s whole body seemed to catch fire, tingling in excitement everywhere Thomas’ body touched his. 


“Yes, I’d like that,” he croaked. 


If Thomas noticed Arvin’s fluster, he made no comment, simply steered him outside.

#

The garden was beautiful, a bit wild, but not overgrown or unkempt. The air was cool, just a touch of approaching autumn and the sun was warm on his back rather than hot. Thomas had dropped his arm as they began to wander through the paths, but he didn’t put any real distance between them so that sometimes their arms would brush, and once when Arvin stumbled, Thomas caught his elbow to steady him and didn’t let go until they were on smoother ground again.  


They sat down on a bench in a shady arbor. Thomas spread his arms across the back of the bench and looked up into the green canopy above. Arvin wanted to lean back too, back into that arm, in case Thomas would put his hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t want to press his luck. Maybe Thomas was just being nice, and Arvin’s imagination had run away with him again.


“It’s beautiful out here,” he said.


“Mmmm,” Thomas murmured in answer. “The wizard put a lot of spells on the garden to keep it healthy. It maintains itself mostly, too. Which is good, since I don’t think I could keep up with it. But I do enjoy it.”


“Did you know the old wizard?”


“I met him once. I came here with his son.” Thomas paused as if he was finished but then he added quietly, “He was my lover.”


Arvin gaped at him. “You’re—?” He snapped his mouth shut. “I mean, the wizard didn’t mind about his son…and you?”


“The wizard minded a lot of things, like people in his woods or touching his things. But who his son loved wasn’t one of them. I can’t say he made me feel welcome, but I think just because he was like that.”


Arvin was quiet for a long time. “Is his son the one you bought the castle from?”


“No,” Thomas answered. “No, Danal died a couple years before his father did. The wizard’s great-niece inherited the castle. I bought it from her.” 


“Oh. I’m sorry.”


“So am I. But it was a long time ago.”


“And you’ve been alone all this time?”


“It’s hard to find others who share my interests, in occupations and other things, if you know what I mean.”


“Yeah,” Arvin said, emphatically. “It’s hard to find someone who won’t beat you up for even looking at them like you’re interested.” 
He put his elbows on his knees and slumped down over his clasped hands. 


Thomas chuckled. “That’s true. Though I’ve been luckier than others. I’m so big not many are willing to take me on, no matter how much they might want to.”


“Yeah, you’re lucky.”


“You haven’t been, I take it?”


“No. I’ve pretty much given up, really.”


“Ahh, but you’re still young.”


“Yeah, but I’m not that stupid. No matter how it may look.” He cast a quick glance at Thomas, with a half smile. But Thomas wasn’t smiling back, and Arvin dropped his head again. Of course Thomas wouldn’t agree with that.


A large, warm hand cupped his chin and turned his face up. Arvin found himself staring into a pair of almost-black eyes, very close to his own. He swallowed. 


Thomas brushed a kiss against his lips. His mouth was soft and warm. Arvin moaned. When the lips touched his again he could feel a smile. An arm slid around his waist, pulling him close. Thomas’ tongue teased Arvin’s lips and Arvin opened his mouth, welcoming Thomas’ tongue and the deep, tender kiss. 


When Thomas pulled away, Arvin was breathless. 


Thomas regarded him seriously, his hand still holding Arvin’s face close. 


“I think I’ve figured out a way to keep you out of trouble at night.”


Arvin’s breath caught.


“Yeah?”


“Mhmm. I’ll just have to keep you within arm’s reach, where I keep my hands on you.”


Arvin whimpered. “Can we try that now, maybe?”


Thomas was still chuckling when their lips met.