#declan trc

It shouldn’t feel like that, he thought. He hadn’t lived there for 5 years, and his parents had been gone for that long as well. He’d made his own life away from it. He had never felt like he belonged in this farmhouse. Always an outsider, always different from his father, his brothers. And yet, the oak tree out front with the shady branches and the large spot of peeled away bark had inexplicably deep roots in him. Memories he’d thought he’d forgotten came rushing back at the sight of it- lifting Matthew up to help him grab a branch, playing with the giant ant hill at the base of the tree, crashing the car into the trunk late at night because his father was drunk and Declan was 14 and wasn’t supposed to be driving yet but had to get them home and had made it without incident until that point.

He parked his Volvo neatly in front of the garage door. The car dinged at him when he unbuckled his seatbelt before turning off the car. He got out and the slam of the door was muffled in the quiet evening air. There were no human sounds out here, just the loud chirping of crickets and faint rustling from the barn to the right. His oxfords crunched on the gravel as he walked up to the porch.

discreet | declansey | explicit | 11k, two-shot

dee, 23 hi there tell me abt the arthurian cycle A little bit of conversation later, and the topic has changed widly. Gansey's face is so hot, his blood rushing south as he remembers the last picture on the guy's Grindr profile. He wants to know how this man sounds while he begs, and what he sounds like when he gets what he needs. The other guys, he was curious about and content with. This boy, he wants.

or, gansey just found out he likes men and declan hasn't found out he likes it gentle yet.