Hold my Reins (Monster Match season two)

Chapter 15

fifteen

I f Rox didn’t hurry the fuck up, Beastly Brewhouse was going to be closed before he got there. He hadn’t wanted to go around in his sweaty, oil-stained clothes, so he’d stopped by the motel to shower and change first, which had added twenty minutes to his turnaround time.

He did not want to abuse the privilege of being able to stare at the piano by turning up at closing and expecting to be let in, no it was better to turn up in a timely manner before closing and play, or attempt to, while Lynck cleaned up.

Lynck had texted yesterday to say that it was fine for him to play while he closed and that he was looking forward to seeing him again. Rox hadn’t been willing to wait another day, so even though he expected to play like shit, at least there’d only be an audience of one, and Lynck wouldn’t make fun of him.

He walked through the open door, and his cheeks burned at the sight of Thursten behind the counter, and he wanted to turn around and walk out. They hadn’t exactly been quiet yesterday morning, and they’d both needed a shower after grinding together until Lynck spilled over his belly and chest. It looked as though six guys had come on him—and that was after Lynck had scooped up some cum and fed it to him.

Thursten smiled. “Greetings, noisy human.”

Yesterday, as Rox walked through the kitchen yesterday when leaving, Thursten had raised his oversized mug of coffee and said much the same thing.

He wasn’t that noisy.

“Hey.” He wanted to die. “I thought Lynck was going to be here.” He wasn’t playing for a stranger.

“He’s doing dishes out the back, but I’m sure he knows you’re here.” Thursten nodded at the piano. “It’s all yours, but I can’t promise that it’s in tune.”

“Thanks.” Rox walked over and put his bag on the floor. He’d brought a folder of music with him, even though it was pretty pointless. If the piano was out of tune, even more so.

He sat and, for several seconds, did nothing more than stare at the keys. Even though Lynck was working, Rox hoped that he’d come out and say hello. Perhaps not being distracted by him was part of the agreement, and if Rox’s playing stopped him from doing his job, then piano privileges would be over.

His eyes prickled, and he blinked a few times.

No, he wasn’t upset because Lynck was doing dishes. He hadn’t played since the funeral, and all those emotions that he thought he’d outrun had found a crack and were flooding in and filling him up. Again.

He pressed his palms to his eyes. This was ridiculous. He was past this. It had been over six months.

Longer since he’d heard her play.

A warm hand touched his shoulder, and he jumped.

Lynck crouched next to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” Clearly, he wasn’t.

“I thought you wanted?—”

“I do.” Which explained the tears. He sniffed and drew in a breath. “I want to play…” he couldn’t even explain how he felt.

“If the music isn’t ready to come out, you can’t force it. Sit until you feel the music again.”

“What is the point of that?”

Lynck considered him for several seconds. “You cannot hold back a tide, correct?”

“Yeah.” Rox frowned, not understanding where Lynck was going.

“So, why do you try to hold back your emotions?”

Rox shook his head. “Because…because I’m supposed to move on, and her death shouldn’t be hurting.”

“Did you sit with the grief and let the pain wash over you the first time, or did you push it away?”

Rox gave a bitter laugh. “I went on a road trip. I ran.”

At the time, he’d been so numb, so tired, that running away had been the only option.

“So now you must sit until it passes.”

That isn’t what humans did. “Is that what you did?”

Lynck gave a small nod. “You let it wash over you, or you let it consume you, fighting it with every waking breath. I fought the anger for far longer than six months when I was captured. Let me save you that pain.”

And Lynck had lost so much more. He’d lost everyone he’d ever known. He pressed a kiss to Rox’s temple as he stood. “I need to close up and clean up.”

“It’s okay if I sit?” If he wasn’t playing, he was in the way.

“You sit until you are ready to play. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe longer.” He stepped back, his hoof tapping on the wooden floor.

Rox turned. “Did you stop playing the violin?”

“For many years, I didn’t play any music because I no longer heard it in my heart. I bought a violin when I moved here. But even then, it took me a while before I strung the bow and played.”

“You never played for me last night.”

“I guess that means you’ll have to come around for dinner again.”

“Maybe I can cook you one of my favorite recipes?”

“I’d like that.” Lynck smiled.

“And I want to go home,” Thursten called from behind the counter. “So lock the front door.”

“The boss has spoken.” Lynck walked away, tail neatly braided, the way it always was when he was at work.

Rox spun around and faced the piano. It was very similar to the one he’d grown up with, that he’d sold along with everything else. Which in hindsight had been a grief response and it might have been smarter to put some of the things into storage, but at the time all he’d wanted to do was put it behind him and move on.

Except he hadn’t.

And neither had Lynck. He’d come to the world to escape, but he was still bound by the past. What had Lynck said about shadows having a long reach?

Rox was sure that if he’d stayed in the apartment surrounded by the past and walked the same streets, he would’ve been consumed. He’d needed the time and space and thought he’d moved on, but perhaps that was impossible. Maybe when he pulled out her book and made his favorite meal, all the grief would rush back…his throat thickened at the idea.

Perhaps there’d always be something waiting to rise and remind him, and that was okay because he didn’t want to forget, but he didn’t want to feel so raw.

Mom wouldn’t want him to do anything but live.

She’d be happy that he had a proper job and a boyfriend, even if he was a monster. No doubt she would have loved talking to Lynck about music.

He placed his fingers on the keys the way he had so many times growing up. He didn’t remember the first time, but there were photos of him sitting in her lap when he was about six months old while she played. He must’ve been mashing the keys even back then.

He didn’t even remember when she started teaching him to play, but he remembered doing homework while she practiced, and then he’d play while she made dinner.

He let the weight drop onto middle C. That didn’t sound too bad. He should check if the piano was even in tune so that, if needed, it could be re-tuned. After so many months of not playing, he wasn’t sure how good his ear was anymore.

Maybe, if he couldn’t tell, it was good enough.

Slowly, he worked his way through C Major, listening to each key. The E in the top octave was off, he played it again. And then a different E.

“I think that one’s off.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Lynck wiping the tables and stacking the chairs.

“It is,” Lynck agreed.

“And the others?”

“They sounded fine to me, but I have learned that human ears prefer a slightly different tone to what I was used to, so I am not the best person to ask.”

“Huh…does that mean your violin is tuned differently?”

“It was at first. But I have adjusted it since. Though with the violin, it does not take much to adjust. I am about to start mopping, so you need to remain where you are until I am done because if you slip and fall, I will never hear the end of it from Thursten.”

“I’ll stay here.” He needed to check the black keys, anyway.

Just as slowly, he checked each one. Once again, it was the keys in the upper octave that were off. Perhaps the piano had sustained a little damage from living in the cafe, or when being moved.

Lynck was still mopping. As he moved around, his hooves tapped, making their own rhythm. It was easy to forget he had them. And because he was so much taller, they never touched him in bed. Rox had been more worried about rolling onto Lynck’s tail or sleeping on his mane. There was a reason he kept his hair around shoulder length, and part of that was practicality. Long hair was a pain in the ass—though he’d tried for a bit, and he didn’t particularly like it when guys slept on it. If it was much longer, they thought it was an invitation to grab a handful.

Since he couldn’t escape because of the wet floor, he should play some scales to get a feel for the piano. Once his fingers remembered how to dance over the keys, the other scales came flooding back. He didn’t realize when Lynck finished working, only that when Rox stopped and looked around, Lynck was sitting and listening.

Lynck gave him a round of applause as though he’d finished playing a masterpiece.

Rox shook his head. “That was scales, not music.”

“It was music.” Lynck stood, stretched, and walked over.

“You should’ve told me you were done.”

“But you weren’t, and I am happy to wait. I have nowhere to rush off to, and this is important to you. Plus, I enjoyed it.”

“You enjoyed me playing scales?”

“It’s been a long time since I listened to someone else create music. If all you want to do is play scales, then I will gladly play with you.”

“Are your scales the same?”

“No, but I have learned yours.”

Rox lifted his eyebrows. “By listening?”

“Yes, but not by listening to you. Humans feel the need to learn scales, so I needed to learn to teach them. Though it was not how I learned to play as a child... Music is not written in a herd; it is felt in the heart.”

Rox gave him a small smile. Even though sitting at the piano hurt, the act of playing was soothing. His heart ached less. “Does that mean you will bring your violin next time?”

“I can do that. Would you like to go for a walk, or do you have chores to do?”

“I did all my laundry and food shopping yesterday afternoon, so I have time for a walk. Do you need to get anything done? We can do it together.” Going food shopping with Lynck might be fun.

He wanted to ask if he thought any more about coming round to the repair shop and cutting the necklace off, but Lynck knew the offer was there. And while Rox had been confident while lying in bed—anything was possible in bed and naked with his lover—the reality was neither of them knew if the bridle could be broken with power tools.

“I have some time off tomorrow, which is when I’ll run errands. I’d much rather go to the lake with you.” Lynck offered his hand.

Rox accepted and let himself be pulled to his feet. “Are you doing some kelpie flirting?”

“You know I am…though we don’t need to do any running or swimming.”

“When the weather warms up, I might swim.” He hadn’t swum in what felt like forever, but it was probably only three years. Now that he lived by a lake, there was no excuse not to make use of it. It wasn’t as though he needed to pay to use a pool.

Lynck laughed. “Come on, Thursten told me to take the leftover sandwiches.”

His heart gave a jump. “A walk and a picnic?”

“Unless you have other dinner plans?”

Sitting in the motel room with a microwave dinner couldn’t compete. “I’m not going to turn down free food and a lakeside walk.”

It was more than that, though. It was the way Lynck looked at him and the way he could be himself. He was enough in a way he’d never expected to find.

If he’d known his ideal boyfriend was a monster, he wouldn’t have wasted six months driving around aimlessly. Except he’d needed that time to find himself because the man he’d been six months ago hadn’t known who he was or what he wanted.

He rolled up onto his toes and kissed Lynck, then brushed his nose against his for good measure.

“What was that for?” Lynck gazed at him.

“For being you.” For letting him be him.