Warning! M&M Slash!


I walked into my home. Once I had lived here alone. Though, that had changed rather quickly. Finding a wild grown (and very naked) man tended to do that.

"Liam!" I called, knowing he'd come running the way he always did. That way he thundered down the stairs in my loft apartment. That way he pitter-pattered his way to me. Most people hearing him run around knew something was wrong, the too many thumping way he ran on all fours, sometimes threes. Rarely did I ever get him to walk only on his feet.

There were no responding thumps to my cry.

"Liam?" I called once more. His absence worried me. He always greeted me at the door the way an excited dog greeted its master. "Liam!!" My voice filled with worry as I threw my bag and coat away from me, not bothering to hang them up in my haste to find the man. I had every right to be. Liam hated most people. A few months ago, I'd brought a friend to help me with him, when he had been very wild, and Liam alternated between hiding and attacking the poor guy. If he'd managed to escape my apartment.... I shuddered in fear.

Running through the small kitchen, I called my wild one's name. Somewhere with in the room, I heard a cupboard door thump closed. I turned on my heal, attempting to zero in on the sound. "Liam?"

A small mewling noise responded.

Crouching, I opened a cupboard I knew should have my spice racks in it. And there I saw Liam, tucked away under the one high shelf. When the door opened, he looked up at me, those wild eyes large and scared.

"Ooooh, sweetie! Get out of there," I mumbled, grabbing his hand and pulling him free of the small space. I stood for a moment, staring at him. Honestly, how did he fit in that small space? "Why were you in there?" I asked, holding his hands in front of me while looking up into his face. Not that I was tall or anything, but something they fed him in the wild made him huge. Tall.

Of course, he didn't answer with a intelligible language. Small, and oddly sweet, gargling noises filled my world with his gentle, almost musical voice. Sighing, I grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the kitchen to the open living space that doubled as dining room and as a lofty bedroom perched above, passing the small utility closet that was my laundry room. Here, Liam froze, refusing to come any closer to the small shuttered door. I almost glared at him.

"What?"

He whimpered, and pointed to said shuttered door. Just then, I heard the sound I knew he feared. Sometimes when running, my washing machine would become unbalanced, and would thump about, not sounding unlike Liam in a hyperactive mood. Muttering angrily, I watched him cower in fear from the noise, pulling at my hands, trying to budge me without being forceful. As abruptly as it had started, it finished.

"See? There's nothing to be scared of, Liam!" I held his hands tight, using my own to guide his opening the door to reveal the simple white appliances. "See?" Shuttering beneath me, he pulled away and loped away to the couch, amazingly only on two feet. Fine. Be that way. I ran after him and jumped onto the couch, nearly missing his lanky body. Pouncing down onto him, I found one of his numerous ticklish spots, and tickled away.

"You're afraid of a silly old washing machine, but aren't afraid of me? Silly Wild-boy, what will you think of next?"


My mother accepted Liam easier than I thought she would. I remember that fateful day, almost a year ago now, when I found him. Not knowing what I could possibly do, I took the foundling to my mother's house. She lived in the rural settlement, while I in the city. It was a good place to acquaintance Liam with the other humans of his race before introducing him to the hustle and bustle of the city. Though terrified of what my mother may think, I still brought Liam naked to her, in the middle of the night. Although, back then he was known as the wild-thing.

That first conversation in the morning, Mother and I sitting in her small floral printed sitting room, whispering frantically to each other, trying to figure out what to do with him. He sat at the piano I had so loved when a child, but gradually grew out of, happily plunking away at the keys, creating small strings of melody. Amazingly, he seemed to have some sort of innate talent for music.

Since Liam calmed (and after we named him), he moved into my loft, though we still visited my mother once or twice every month. She loves seeing him, my mother. I think she sees him as a grandchild, or a second son she could never have after my father's early death from a heart attack. I blame her amazing country cooking. Nevertheless, I suspected my mother would think I was gay, or some such nonsense, when I showed up on her doorstep, at four in the morning, a naked wild creature in tow.

I still wonder why I saved him.

In the moment I pondered all this, Mother handed Liam another BLT sandwich just oozing grease and mayonnaise. He promptly scarfed it down, still pounding the keys of the piano, even though he dirtied them. Mother dabbed his face with a small moist towel, and continued to his hands. Whining loudly, Liam struggled against my mother's cleaning, since it parted him from his ever precious piano. I laughed.

"What do you feed him, Eric? He's starving!" She glared at me from over her shoulder to where I lounged on her couch. "How does he survive? Honestly, you should have left him with me...." Shrugging, I sat up, and stared Liam's hunched back. We had the same argument every time. I though the city was better, with me, and other people, Maybe hearing the English language left and right almost every moment of every day would open the floodgate in his mind, letting a river of words pour out.

Though, my mother did have a convincing argument as well. He need love, nourishment. Something only a mother could give him. And though the city made sense to me, I wasn't the best of care takers.

As if feeling my gaze on his back, Liam turned to me, and smiled. His face lit up, and if he were the sun, I'd have been burnt to a crisp. My mother watched him, almost admiringly. She then stood, the piano bench creaking. A look in her eye told me to follow, so I also stood at that time and followed her into the kitchen, leaving Liam at the piano.

"Eric, it's important you answer me honestly," she said to me, turning as we entered the small, but bright room that I always remember her being in. Confused, I nodded. Sighing audibly, my mother shocked me. "Are you doing something I should know about with Liam?" I gasped, falling back to lean on the counter. "No man looks like that at another unless something is going on. And when was the last time you had a girlfriend? Hali was the last one, wasn't she?"

At the mention of her name, I started out of my shock.

"There is nothing like that between Liam and me! I'm his caretaker, his older brother. And you know why I haven't dated anybody since... her," I spat out the words. "You know what happened. And with Liam, can I really? You know as well as I that if I started a relationship, you'd call me irresponsible, for leaving him home alone, for bringing a girl back, for dating when I had other more important things to do. So, which way do you want it, Mom?" I growled the final words.

Seems I'd been spending too much time with Liam.

I was readying myself for a another torrent of words to flow when I felt a gentle hand on my back that reminded horribly for a moment of how my father used to console me... My head twisted to stare behind me. I hadn't even realized I'd stepped forward as I ranted at my mother, and now Liam stood behind me, perfectly straight, a hand on my shoulder.

"Liam, darling," my mother started. "Go back to the living room." Another moment passed, and Liam did something I had never seen before. A light of intelligence sparkled in his eye as I felt my heart thunder in my throat.

He shook his head in refusal.


The car ride back was quiet. It always was without conversation, but never quiet. Liam fiddled with the radio, singing along by mimicking the lyrics, or creating a complex harmony. That day, he did not. Instead, he sat quietly while I concentrated on the road. Maybe he sensed my anger? Not directed at him, but anger nonetheless. Maybe he knew what my mother had asked? What she had insinuated?

I sighed, shaking my head slightly, when I felt something cold on my neck.

Then I felt it again on my upper arm, a slight pressure on my leg, my side, my wrist. Glancing down, I saw he was poking me, a sad look in his eye.

"What?" I snapped, my tone sharp. Of course, he made a small noise I'd heard kittens make. Sighing again, I would have hung my head if I hadn't been driving. "I'm sorry... I guess I'm just annoyed?" He still watched me sadly. "Guess what, when we get home, we can watch whatever Disney movie you want, ok?" His response was to squeal happily, and jump in his seat the entire way home.


Work sucked. It always did. The entire time, I worried the wild man in my apartment had finally figured out how to use the stove and set my home on fire, or if he had fallen down the stairs. Maybe he'd even figured out the door and gotten loose in the bustling world of New York, and gotten in the middle of some sort of accident. I'd never find him... It's wasn't like he technically existed in today's society. No ID, so SS number.

I kicked the door open, my arms full. "Liam!" I cried, attempting to shut the door without spilling my groceries. A can fell and rolled as I tried to kick the door shut, unsuccessfully. "Damn it... Liam!" Again, he didn't respond. "Liam!" The name seemed to rip my throat as I yelled it at the top of my lungs, abandoning the dropped dropped can near the door to walk into the kitchen. I set the paper bags down and walked through my apartment, trying to locate the wild thing. If I found him hiding from the washer again. No, annoyed wasn't the right word. Angry, more like.

Why was it more and more often that when I called, Liam would not come? I was beginning to think taking him in was not the greatest idea. Maybe I should have left him with my mother.

I traipsed into my living room to find Liam sitting only inches away from the TV, engrossed in a Disney movie. From my distance, I couldn't tell which movie, but it looked like it might have been Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, or The Little Mermaid. I wouldn't have been so surprised if my VCR or tapes broke because of his obsession.

"Liam," I said, voice full of warning. He turned to look at me, dolefully, and I almost lost the heart to tell him off. "Come." I emphasized the command by snapping my finger and pointing to the floor next my feet, calling him like a dog. He stood, and walked to me, obeying. Towering over me, I led him to the kitchen. Once there, I pointed out the groceries, then went to retrieve the dropped can and to finally hang up my coat and bag. Even from the door, I could hear Liam humming in the kitchen, and recognized the tune, realizing the movie he was watching must have been The Lion King. Walking into the kitchen, mood already improved, I sang along in a horribly out of tune way that made Liam shake his head.

"What?" I complained, "Got a problem with my singing?" Laughing at me, Liam shook his head. I guessed he was amused I had the audacity to sound offended. Sighing, I placed the last can in the pantry, and turned to the wild man. "So, what do you want to eat tonight?" I asked, as if I were actually expecting him to answer....

Instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to the couch, positioning me, then pressing play on the movie. He then curled up on the couch next to me, leaning his head on my shoulder. Before long, it was dark, and we were both yawning. Standing, and stretching, I began our nightly routine. I grabbed his hand, and began pulling him to the stairs leading tot he loft. Liam stood and stumbled a bit following. He looked asleep on his feet, eyes closed. But when I got to his room I arranged on the loft, his grip on my hand tightened, and he started pulling me to him.

The wild man being stronger then me, I hunched my shoulders and started swatting at him with my other hand, heart pounding. Still, I couldn't escape from his grip as he pulled me to his chest, holding me tight to him. I knew with every bone in my body that I shouldn't let him continue holding me, but it felt... right, safe, amazing, unbelievable.

Finally corralling my thoughts, I pried myself out of Liam's grip. Gasping, I backed away and glared at him.

"You, bed, now," I said in a stern voice, pointing to the bed, before I retreated to my own room, closing the door behind me. I closed my eyes, back pressed against the door, and concentrated on breathing normally. My mind reeled, and I knew I was blushing. Through the door I could hear Liam making his normal noises. But they seemed to be tinged with a hint of melancholy. Sighing, I fell into my bed, waiting for sleep to take me, along with this confusion.

Tap. Tap. Tap. That's what I woke to. Taptaptap, faster and more insistent this time. The taping continues, and I opened my eyes to find Liam leaning over me, taping my lips with his index finger.

"That hand better be clean," I growled as I pushed him off, heading to my bathroom. After I watched my face, I glared into my room, Liam perched on my bed. "What?" I snapped at him, and watched him flinch. I looked away from him, almost ashamed with my show of violence, and stared at my clock. Six in the morning, and for what?

Padding down the stairs, I seethed to myself. As I entered the kitchen, I heard Liam thunder down the stairs and sit at the breakfast bar, readying himself for his first meal. "What do you want?" I grumbled to him, and he simply shrugged. I opened the fridge and stared into it for what seemed an eternity before I finally grabbed some eggs, onions, green bell peppers and other ingredients. Before long, I had two large and very full omelets.

Once we finished eating, I lounged on the couch. Liam walked into the room, glancing at the simplistic clock on the wall then me, then back at the clock.

"I don't work today. It's just you and me," I explained. Seems after the same morning routine, he learned what time I went to work, and what time I came home. He smiled happily and started up the old VCR, already having chosen a movie to watch. Of course, a Disney movie. Halfway through The Little Mermaid, I called the wild man to me. He came willing, as always.

"Liam, it's just the two of us today. What should we do?" His answer was to glance back at the TV screen. Seemed he was completely ok with just sitting around and watching movies all day. I wasn't. "C'mon," I said, standing up and mounting the stairs to head to the loft. Once I had the both of us dressed, I grabbed the wild man by the hand and led him out of our apartment complex that was really and old factory building that had been renovated into apartments.

The cool air of early fall made our breathe steam as Liam stumbled behind me in his shoes. I pulled harder on his hand, leading him to a park that I knew was decently close. I turned to glance back at the wild man as he stared about himself, confused and scared. His hair fell into his eyes, and he swatted at it with his free hand. An idea struck.

"Other way!" I exclaimed, now pulling him off to the bus station. Before long we were climbing the steps into the buss, dropping change into the receptacle. It was only a few stops to the place I went to get my hair cut. Seeing Liam continually shaking the hair out of his eyes made me realize how badly he did need a haircut. I smiled at him reassuringly as the bus mounted a hill, nearly stalled then continued in a wheezing, coughing sort of way. If I hadn't take the bus regularly, I would fear it was about break down.

When Liam first saw the scissors, he stared at the dubiously, confused and slightly intimidated. I laughed a little and calmed him, patting his arms and making promises he forgot moments later. Of course, he squirmed a bit, but it seemed he knew deep down that this was normal in today's society.

Maybe he wasn't as lost as I thought he was....


The door shut loudly behind us as we returned to the little loft apartment. Before he even took off his shoes and coat, Liam ran for the living room, pressing play on the VCR before jumping onto the couch. The Little Mermaid picked up exactly where I paused it hours before. I sighed and joined him on the couch. Once that movie finished, Liam threw off his shoes and discarded his shirt while he chose a new movie. A Disney movie, once again.

"Do you watch anything but kids' movies? Seriously," I groaned, letting my head fall back. Liam looked back at me, slightly guilty. "Guess not...." He came back to the couch and sat with me, the movie not yet started. I grew a little uncomfortable as he stared into my face. He then grabbed my hand and pulled to my feet before leading me to the TV and the stand that held all the old movies. Finally, I understood he was trying to tell me to pick a movie for a change.

"No," I whined, and yanked my hand from his. "You wouldn't like my type of movies. No singing." The wild man stared at me in horror, as if a movie with no singing could really exist. He grabbed my hand again and tried to lead me to the TV stand again. I smiled a little before stopping him. "It's ok, it's ok. Disney movies are alright with me." He stared at me again, disbelieving. "Really."

His only response was to hug me. Which was little awkward with him not wearing and shirt and being many inches taller. I stiffened in his hold before relaxing. He noticed and held me tighter, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. His breath tickled my skin and sent shivers down my spine.

This wasn't right....

I wasn't gay. Well, once I thought I was, but I second guessed myself. And then whole thing with that one girlfriend. Plus, Liam was just a child. Granted, a child with a very large, string, muscular body that was shirtless and pressed against my own. I continued arguing with myself, setting the story straight that nothing was going to happen when something amazing happened.

He spoke.

"My Eric," he mumbled into my neck. Again, I shivered, trembling now. "Mine..." His voice was musical, deep and rumbling. It gave me goosebumps and made me almost faint. "Mine. Mine. Mine...." His voice was everything I imagined it to be, and more all at once. It was....

Perfect.


AN -- Hey look! A work in progress one-shot! Check back half way often, and stuff. I may or may not add more. I have an idea for this, but I'm not actually liking where this is going right now... EDIT -- Now finished. Sorry for the meaningless of it all, I hoped you enjoyed it! Though, I'm pretty happy with the end, against all odds.

Hanna is having problems with real life and writing :heart:

Oh, yeah. This is Un-beta'd! No killing Hanna for typos. She type fast and doesn't look back :heart: (Why am I talking in third person?)

This is written because I wanted to take a break from Sanctuary of a Place Unknown. Go read it, if you already haven't :heart:

R&R, please! :heart:

I've had enough of hearts... Bye?