MHA #15, Monday Evening

[pocketpretzels]

As had become habit over the past few months, on Monday evening Watts found himself seated at his kitchen table surrounded by a stack of paper as he wrote to folks back in Toronto.

The most detailed letter went to the Detective and Dr. Ogden, as per usual, given that the former had experience here and thus Watts could be entirely honest about the things he'd seen and done. Less detailed were the missives sent to George Crabtree and Mrs. Hart. And finally, this week, there was a short note he owed Miss Louise Cherry, who'd written him recently expressing doubt that this address was even real. So he was writing back to assure her that no, no one had killed him in a fit of exasperation and he was in fact alive and well, just in Baltimore rather than Toronto.

It was slow going, of course, as he was making an effort to keep his writing as legible as possible. Even then, there had been more than a few sheets he'd had to discard entirely, and the wastepaper basket was starting to fill up.

[ooc: for the neighbour! that he came over is ok to mention, details NFB please.]

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

"Can still picture you at it though," Steven said. "I see how you notice things."

Saw and admired, in fact. Which might have been hinted at in Steven's tone of vice.

[pocketpretzels]

“Do you now,” Watts said, meeting Steven’s gaze over his now nearly empty wine glass.

[hasaknightjob]

Yeah, problem was Steven had discovered he particularly didn't mind it when Watts used that talent on him. So that plus what was not the greatest willpower in his own or this world meant he didn't look away as he said, his throat a bit dry, "Yes."

[pocketpretzels]

Speaking of willpower, it was taking basically all of Watts's to not lean in and ask if he could kiss him now. But Steven had just detailed how he didn't feel it was fair of himself to ask for one. "It is a skill in which I place a good deal of pride," he confessed.

In other words he was picking up what you were trying not to put down here, Steven.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven was keenly aware that appropriate boundaries were very far in the rearview at this point. But there was - the only word was longing inside of him which kept him from doing what he believed was the right thing to do rather than what he wanted to do.

So he didn't look away as he said, "You should be. You're very... perceptive. Haven't seen you be wrong yet."

[pocketpretzels]

"Aside from my assumptions regarding the nature of your relationship to Mr. Spector, that is," Watts pointed out.

[hasaknightjob]

"Not your fault you didn't have all the facts," Steven replied. "Can't hold that against you."

[pocketpretzels]

"Hmmm, I suppose not," Watts said. "Still, looking back..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven took a deep breath as reality sent a cold splash over everything. "Looking back you realize I'm not what I appear to be. Fool's gold there, yeah?"

[pocketpretzels]

"And what if I were to say that I would be content to be such a fool?" Watts asked.

[hasaknightjob]

Watts's words washed over Steven, chasing away the cold like the slow warmth of sunlight. With it came an ache. A need so strong it wasn't possible for Steven to attempt to hide it. If he'd imagined something for Watts to say it would have been something like this. Only what Whats had actually said was better.

Of course because of that along with the warmth came doubt. But Steven could be honest about that, couldn't he? Honesty was the thing, in these moments. Hadn't steered him wrong yet.

"I would..." Steven swallowed. His attention was momentarily drawn to where his hand rubbed nervously against the couch cushion. He stared at the pattern of the fibers. He wouldn't imagine that, right? No reason to make up fabric patterns. "I would say sometimes I have a hard time telling my waking life from dreams. And what you just said sounds very much like a dream."

[pocketpretzels]

Watts reached out to cover Steven's hand with his own. "I swear to you that this is no dream," he said, voice soft yet not lacking in conviction.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven lifted his hand just enough that the back of his pressed against the weight of Watts's. Not pushing away but matching contact for contact. "Much better than what I used to - what I thought I dreamed about. Not even a competition, really. If they'd all been like this I wouldn't have minded."

[pocketpretzels]

“Careful,” Watts said, his tone fond as he brushed his fingers over Steven’s. “You’re liable to inflate my ego to heretofore unforeseen proportions.”

[hasaknightjob]

That startled a laugh out of him. "Oh yeah. Real arrogant, you are. First thing I noticed."

[pocketpretzels]

Funny, because there were plenty of people in Watts’s life who’d mistaken his unfiltered manner for arrogance.

“It’s hard to miss, really,” Watts deadpanned.

[hasaknightjob]

"And here you said you weren't good at joking," Steven replied. He looked back up at Watts again, though he kept his hand right where it was. "Fair few jokes in my dreams. Or charming men."

[pocketpretzels]

"I'm sorry to hear that," Watts shook his head. "You deserve all manner of good things, whether awake or dreaming."

Since Steven didn't seem inclined to move his hand anytime soon, Watts shifted slightly to lace their fingers together, squeezing gently.

[hasaknightjob]

"Most of them weren't dreams anyway," Steven said. Which didn't actually make it better but in Steven's defense he was a little distracted. Watts's hand holding his was rather nice. Steven didn't want that feeling to stop, even though he knew the right thing to do was pull away.

[pocketpretzels]

"I'm not certain that's an improvement," Watts said with a frown. He certainly wasn't going to be the one to pull away, for the record, seeing as he'd initiated the hand-holding and all.

[hasaknightjob]

"It's in the past anyway," Steven said. He ran his thumb along the side of Watts's hand. "Meanwhile here's you, thinking about being foolish."

[pocketpretzels]

"Meanwhile, here I am," Watts agreed. "I should very much like to be, if you'll let me."

[hasaknightjob]

Steven tightened his hand on Watts's because, once again, his willpower only went so far. Frankly it was taking everything he had not to say sod it to every good instinct and kiss Watts while he could.

But Steven cared about Watts, which was the problem.

Which left him with honesty. He was getting a lot of practice with that.

"I'd like to," Steven said. He looked Watts in the eyes, so Watts could see he was being sincere. "I'd very much like to. It's why I came here tonight, because of that."

[pocketpretzels]

Watts would very much argue that any kissing-related instincts were in fact the good ones.

"If you're going to say something again about why you feel you shouldn't, let me assure you I am approaching this with my eyes wide open," Watts said.

[hasaknightjob]

"Before I came here tonight you didn't even know what I really was," Steven said. There was no rancor or hurt in his voice. If anything, it was a gentle reminder. "Or what being with me would entail."