The House Master

Challenging

WARNING - Sexual intercourse between characters. I'd like to preface this chapter by saying that this book is set in England, I am in England, and the age of consent here is 16. They are not minors, they are not underage. I'll put warning symbols (⚠️) so you can skip the scene.

On Sunday morning, Vincent opens his eyes and smiles, before searching the other side of the coffin for Adrian. But the space is empty, a sea of blood that seems to have swallowed his partner during the night. He frowns and sits up, leaning on his elbows, and looks around the room as he waits for his eyes to adjust. The tall figure, like a noire silhouette, sits on the edge of his bed, shuddering with his arms wrapped tightly around his body, almost exploring his ribs.

Vincent rubs his eyes and curiously crawls towards his...  boyfriend - that's still strange for him to say. He slowly wraps his arms around Adrian from behind, the taller disconcertingly calm, and nuzzles into his shoulder. "I haven't slept so well in a long time,"

Adrian doesn't even blink, doesn't register Vincent's presence, just looks into the blankness of his ceiling. "Mmm, morning my dear,"

"What's wrong?" The shorter boy kisses Adrian's cheek and draws back to observe the thoughts in his expressions.

"Why would something be wrong?" his voice is hollow, he turns away from Vincent. "We did it... didn't we, we got you out of there..."

"Exactly, and I credit you for doing so - and thinking you came up with the plan all by yourself," Vincent chuckles. "Now, it's a Sunday, we have the entire day to spend in bed, in here, don't we?"

Adrian sits back on the bed and draws down the blinds, trapping them in darkness. He reaches out and grabs Vincent, drawing him closer. Vincent looks at him from so close and still, his eyes are dead, his expression vacant.

"I can't, I'm not in the mood," Vincent stands and turns away form Adrian, kneeling by the bookcase and reading titles with furious intensity. Anything to stop him violently torturing Adrian for answers.

"Not in the -? We're both virgins you weirdo, stop talking like a forty year old housewife," Adrian throws a pillow at him, some of the light back in his eyes.

Vincent fights back a relieved smile that nothing is truly wrong with him.

At this moment, the front door bangs several times and both boys freeze. William pushes open the bedroom door and stares, accusatorily, at Adrian. "It's the police, what have you done!"

"Nothing!" Adrian glares and crosses his arms while Vincent cranes his neck to make sure that yes, it is the police.

William rushes downstairs, Adrian and Vincent follow behind and watch from the stairs as he opens the door. "Can I help you, officers?"

He turns back around, staring wide-eyed at Vincent. "They want to talk to you,"

To William's bewilderment, Vincent leads the police into the dining room and closes the door behind them. The man turns to Adrian and fixes him with a glare. "Start talking immediately,"

Adrian leans on the staircase and stares ahead for a moment, he breaths out, wishing it was the exhale of a cigarette. He tells William everything - not everything, of course, but more than he's sure Vincent would like. At the end, he silently awaits his adoptive father's judgement call. "Well," He sighs. "I suppose that means Vincent will be staying permanently?"