MHA #14, Friday Evening

[pocketpretzels]

That anticipatory feeling had followed Watts home from work, lingering even as he and Steven ordered and had dinner. Now they were on the couch, curled up together with Raphael sprawled between them, quietly reading.

And in Watts's case, waiting. Even if he wasn't entirely sure for what. He suspected, but part of him was convinced it was a little too fantastical, even for Fandom.

(Nothing was ever too fantastical for Fandom; a year was apparently not quite long enough to have learned that lesson.)

[ooc: for that guy. and that other guy.]

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

Steven was reading with one arm around his beau for whatever comfort said beau might need. And because it was just nice to have a book in one hand - or resting on the arm of the couch while turning the pages with one hand - and your beau in the other.

"Could stay in tomorrow as you like," Steven said. "If you don't get as much sleep again, I mean."

[pocketpretzels]

Watts had been staring at the same paragraph now for the last ten minutes. Truth be told he wasn't so much reading as enjoying having Steven's arm around him.

"Play it by ear, I suppose," Watts replied, letting his head rest on Steven's shoulder.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven moved the arm around Llewellyn's shoulders up so that he could rub his hand through Llewellyn's hair. "Easily done. Could set the alarm and then change our minds as needed."

Oh no, staying in bed on a Saturday morning. What a horror.

[pocketpretzels]

"Mmm," Watts hummed in assent as Steven's hand started working through his hair. "Kay."

[hasaknightjob]

"Could order in breakfast as well," Steven said, starting to warm up to the idea. "Make a proper lazy day of it."

[pocketpretzels]

"I do like the way you think, Steven Grant," Watts murmured, twisting so that he might place a lazy kiss on his beau's lips.

Which was, naturally, when there was a knock on the door.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven looked puzzled. A quick internal check confirmed, "Marc and I aren't expecting anyone. Are you?"

[pocketpretzels]

"No," Watts said, though a part of him wanted to answer Yes.

[hasaknightjob]

"I'll see who it is." Steven patted Llewellyn's shoulder to encourage him to sit up enough for Steven to put his book on the coffee table and head to the door.

Since he wasn't expecting anyone, Steven peered through the peep hole first.

[thebookofjackson]

On the other side of the door, he'd see a man who looked rather a lot like someone who's photograph Steven had seen hanging in Toronto's Station House Number Four, right down to the uniform he was wearing. Only that man was dead and this man... was clearly not.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven blinked in surprise. He looked over his shoulder. "Llew, I think this one is for you."

Then he opened the door so their visitor wouldn't be kept waiting. "Hello?"

[thebookofjackson]

"... Hello?" Whatever magic had allowed Jackson to be here in the first place had told him this was the door to knock on. However, he'd been expecting Detective Watts, not some... British fellow. "I'm looking for Detective Watts?"

[hasaknightjob]

"Definitely for you, L - " Steven started, then caught himself. He couldn't remember if Llewellyn had said if Jackson had known about him and thus best to be cautious.

So Steven, in that utterly suave way that Steven had, corrected himself with " - l-look who it is!"

Flawless.

[pocketpretzels]

Jackson didn't even know Watts was Jewish, let alone a homosexual, so yes- that discretion, such as it was, was appreciated.

Watts got up from the couch and headed to the door, face going pale when he saw who it was.

"Jackson. How -?"

[thebookofjackson]

"I'm afraid I don't rightly know, sir," Jackson admitted, looking slightly embarrassed by this fact. "Only that one minute I wasn't, and then suddenly I was. And that I was to come find you."

[pocketpretzels]

"I don't- I don't have the words," Watts admitted.

A rare occasion for Llewellyn Watts. Take note.

"Ah- come in?" he said hesitantly, with a glance towards Steven for confirmation even as he issued the invitation.

[hasaknightjob]

"Of course," Steven said. He stepped back to make room and motioned for Jackson to enter. "Er - supper's done I'm afraid but I can put something together for you if you're hungry?"

[thebookofjackson]

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble, Mr. -" Jackson looked at Steven expectantly to fill in the rest.

[hasaknightjob]

"Grant," Steven said. He held out a hand to shake. "Steven Grant. With a V."

[thebookofjackson]

"Augustus Jackson," Jackson replied in kind, shaking the offered hand firmly before stepping inside the apartment. "So this is the future," he mused. "I don't know what I was expecting, but it's very- bright."

[pocketpretzels]

"That was one of my first observations as well," Watts noted. "If you don't care for something to eat, we can at least put the kettle on for you."

The 'we' fell naturally from his lips, and Watts didn't even realise he'd said it until it was too late to take it back.

[thebookofjackson]

"'We', sir?" Jackson echoed, looking from Watts to Steven and back again.

[pocketpretzels]

"We," Watts affirmed. "That is- Steven and I- we are. We have been-"

Apparently he was still struggling to find the words.

[hasaknightjob]

"We've been learning how to cook this year," Steven said, after his own brief hesitation as he considered and then discarded "Practicing French" as an excuse for the "we" (or oui, as Steven's quickly discarded thought had been). "Sharing our supplies and the like. He lives across the corridor, you see. Easy enough for either of us to bring things over. Tea, would you like? It's no problem."

[pocketpretzels]

"That is true," Watts acknowledged. "But it's not the whole truth. We've been learning how to cook together because we are also- romantically involved." The step back he took as he said those last two words was pure defensive instinct.

[thebookofjackson]

"I see," Jackson said slowly. "Well. I dare say it does make a few things clearer to me now than they were when I was still, well. Alive."

[pocketpretzels]

"However do you mean?"

[thebookofjackson]

"You never spoke of anything resembling a romantic life," Jackson pointed out. "I thought perhaps you were simply the private sort, but I realise now that in all the time I knew you not a single woman so much as turned your head. And, if I might say it, there's the way you dress."

[hasaknightjob]

Steven raised a hand to interject, briefly taken out of his moment of staring at Llewellyn with incredible pride.. "Er - I like the way he dresses? Actually?"

[thebookofjackson]

"Well, that's not surprising," Jackson pointed out. "Considering. But you have to admit, it is a bit... mollyish."

[hasaknightjob]

Steven looked down at his own clothes, which were never as stylish or patterned as Llewellyn's, and wondered what about them Jackson was "considering." As for the rest, "What's Molly to do with it? He had those done at a tailor's."

[pocketpretzels]

"No, that's-" Watts shook his head at the misunderstanding. "A 'molly' is- someone like me. A homosexual. The implication being that if you're anything like me, then naturally you'd appreciate the way I dress." Which was a bit on the flamboyant side, with the colours and the patterns, but he generally got away with it back in Toronto on account of also coming across as more than a bit eccentric.

[hasaknightjob]

"Oh." Steven looked sheepish. "I wasn't - I see. Then... I suppose. I still think you look nice though. Long as he's not having a laugh at you."

[thebookofjackson]

"I can assure you I was not," Jackson told Steven. "Only connecting a few dots that I couldn't quite see for what they were when I was living." He turned to Watts. "I'll take that tea, sir, if it's still on offer."

[hasaknightjob]

"I can put the kettle on," Steven said, already turning towards the kitchen. "Cups of tea all around, I think?"

[pocketpretzels]

"Yes, please," Watts said with a grateful smile, just barely catching himself before he added the 'darling' on there.

Not that the cat wasn't already out of the bag, as it were, and Jackson seemed to be- about as accepting of it as Watts was of the fact that a dead man had shown up on his Steven's doorstep.

"Come on, Jackson, have a seat and we can- talk," Watts said, gesturing for Jackson to follow him over to the couch.