Big Book of Hatsome One Shots

You Shine like Brighton Pier, My Dear

TW: Urban Magic Yogs

~Chapter One: Take My Darling To The Sea

Trott ran his thumb absently across Ross' fingers. He adored the way his skin felt, the way the marble surface was covered with chips and scratches from where his hands had been worn and weathered, and the patches of peculiar metals and gemstones that filled the larger of these empty veins. It was comforting to be reminded of Ross' capability to look after himself. He was careful and obedient in a way Smith had never been, at least not to his knowledge. Even now, while Trott was making him walk all the way to the station to catch a three hour train ride, he hadn't so much as opened his mouth to complain. In fact, he had spent the entire twenty minute walk staring blankly at the pavement occasionally commenting on the snow with gentle interest, though Trott knew he'd seen it many times before. He found it mildly unsettling; Ross was such a stark contrast to Smith and he rarely spent time with anyone else. Not to mention, Ross was a relatively new addition to their small family and despite his great efforts, he was finding it difficult to settle the gargoyle in. It was easy to forget that the guy had spent a lifetime perched on a stone pole outside a church and only couple of weeks in the apartment. That was what led him to where he was now, traipsing a ridiculously long way on foot thanks to the unpredictable reliability of Smith's car in order to catch the next train to the "unspecified location". There was no need to name where they were going as he was sure Ross wouldn't know where it was anyway. Trott knew that he wouldn't persist in asking if he told him not to. He was a good boy like that.

As they looped a corner, Trott unhooked his fingers and prised his hand away from Ross, who made a small noise of protest that was nearly undetectable over the bustling street sound. The station was a few feet ahead, looking plain and uninteresting as ever with its faded advertisements and boring posters encouraging people not to drop litter or vandalise the walls, though that clearly gave them little incentive as only a metre or so away, someone had sprayed the word 'knob' onto a sign. Trott had a sinking feeling he recognised the handwriting. He gently guided Ross towards the automatic doors, something the gargoyle seemed to struggle with, and into the lobby area. The ticket desk stood at one end of the room, three separate cubicles but only one occupied. The man behind the screen of glass looked almost as plain and uninteresting as the station: deep sunken eyes and stubble across his chin. Trott approached him and murmured something quietly under the glass so he could keep their destination secret for a while longer. Ross stood behind him, his tail flicking back and forth. He reminded himself that no-one could see his tail due to their glamour and so he shouldn't worry about attracting attention although that wasn't necessarily a problem as luckily enough the station appear to be lacking visitors today. Unless this was how busy train stations usually were. He thought not, considering the amount of times he'd heard Smith complain about the trains in the past week alone. Casually, he hooked his thumbs into his pockets and leant against a pillar, watching Trott with keen eyes as he chatted politely with the ticket vendor. He was fascinated by the way Trott behaved around humans, embarrassingly so. Just reminding himself that Trott was an entirely different species to the man opposite him seemed insane, and yet it was true. The selkie looked up at him with a fierce mischievous smile.

"You are going to love what I have in store for you, sunshine." He boasted, a little glint in his eye.
"Mm-hm. I'm sure I will. Wish you wouldn't make such a big deal out of keeping it a secret, though."
Trott flicked his fringe from his eyes and picked up the tickets the man had slid under the glass. He remembered suddenly that he was being tactless and attempted to cover the name on the ticket, but it was too late for that. Ross had a frustrating habit of reading anything and everything he laid eyes on: private or otherwise.
"Brighton?"
"Oh c'mon, you've ruined the surprise now!!"
"Trott, I don't know where Brighton is. I haven't ruined anything."
The selkie grinned softly, unable to stop himself from chuckling. He pulled Ross to him, resting his head gently by his ear and enjoying the way he shivered under his touch, "Good. I wouldn't want you to spoil it for yourself now, would I?"
The gargoyle murmured something in response. Trott found that it was almost impossible to resist the urge to mess with him while he was like this, so eager and passive under his touch. The way he jittered as he breathed words into his ear was near maddening. In some ways, he was pleased that Smith had burnt down that church. It was nice to have a companion who was so unresisting to anything and everything he suggested. This trip was going to be fun.

When they arrived, Trott wasn't particularly surprised to find that everywhere was cold. Not just cold, mind, but freezing, so much so that he had to take a detour towards a crappy-looking shop along the beach front in order to buy scarves for the both of them. Ross protested, saying he was used to the cold, but didn't stop Trott when he reached up to loop the scarf around his neck and tie it in a very fancy knot.
"There," He marvelled, "Now you won't look suspicious walking around in Arctic-style weather in just a fleece."
As soon as his back was turned Ross rolled his eyes. He had come to see that Trott was used to being in charge, the controller of the situation, and having only known him for a week or so Ross would have felt mean taking that role away. After all, it was doing him little or no harm to have to be submissive. He was rather enjoying it, in fact. Trott was exactly what he needed right now in this new environment: a guide, giving him directions left right and centre. Not to mention, as long as he behaved, Trott seemed more than happy to reward Ross with little brushes of affection and encouragement and food, a luxury the gargoyle had barely been in contact with in his long and rather dreary existence. There were other rewards he enjoyed, but he tried not to ask for those too often. It made him feel entitled, and it wasn't like Trott owed him in anyway. If anything, Ross was in debt to him and Smith for getting him out of that church. While he'd been mad at first, it had been obvious he wasn't enjoying his life there. He'd never have had the heart to do what Smith had done in a million years, God knows he'd have lasted that long. What had happened only two weeks before was something that would make Ross forever indebted to them. He knew that much.

His train of thought had twisted so much that it took him a moment to come back down to earth, where he realised they were now walking along the beach. There was sand creeping into his shoes and it had somehow made its way into his socks as well. It rubbed his feet coarsely and he had half a mind to chuck his shoes off there and then. Trott, however, didn't even seem to notice the sand. His eyeline remained firmly out towards the sea, a mixture of lust and pain in his eyes. By now, Ross knew all about what had happened between Trott and his selkie kind, why he chose to stay away from the water now and why he rarely ever donned his skin. It all seemed so tragic. There's was something poetic about watching him as he stared at the waves, knowing he'd never touch them again, at least not for many years. Without realising, Ross had reached out for Trott's hand, his stony fingers brushing his soft skin with as much grace as you would expect from a man made of stone. Trott didn't seem to mind that he had interrupted what might have been a private moment, and clang to the touch anxiously. The numbing heat of Trott's hand was comforting. He wondered suddenly if Trott was really the one in need of reassurance in this situation. Either way, Ross was thoroughly enjoying this, indulged himself in the sounds of the ocean and the company of his selkie beside him.
"I always used to come to Brighton in my selkie days. I came here with Smith once, a long time ago. We don't talk about that. Kind of a what-happens-in-Brighton style pact he made me do with him. I remember though when we got here he made me buy him ice cream because he'd never had it from Brighton before, which was a pretty shit reason but I was head over heels for the prick so I bought him it anyway."
"It's nice." He said.
Trott tightened his grip supportively, chuckling slightly at Ross' vague response. "Good.. but this isn't quite 'it' yet, Ross. You have, literally, not seen anything yet."
At that, Ross quirked an eyebrow down at his little friend. He had seen plenty, in his mind. Still, he chose not to question it. Instead he continued to meander along beside Trott, who continued to gaze wistfully off into the distance.
"...mate, do you-"
"Yes I know what a beach is. I was created with all the knowledge I'd ever need, just none of the experience."
Trott chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, "Sorry. Sounded meaner than it meant to."
"You're alright. You aren't the first person to ask and you sure as hell won't be the last." There was warmth in his tone and it settled the awkward atmosphere.