Midnight Manor Private Residence, Saturday Afternoon

[pocketpretzels]

Right, so. Steven was off helping write a solution to the nonsense that was going on, leaving Watts to- well, normally he'd be stress-baking, but that was not an option right now. So quietly stressing it was, while also making sure Midnight understood what was meant to be doing- namely, keeping everyone inside safe.

It was at least somewhat of a relief that Steven had chosen to assist with the part that didn't directly involve violence, instead of him or Marc going off to fight the nightmare creations.

In the meantime, nothing to do now but wait, Raphael curled up in his lap lightly snoozing and unaware anything out of the ordinary was going on.

[ooc: for the beau and NFB please!]

Comments

[pocketpretzels]

“Of course,” Watts nodded. “It’s just- it’s nice. Knowing you will appreciate whatever I manage.”

[hasaknightjob]

"It's what partners do isn't it?" Steven said. "Must admit I rather like it. Being there for the milestones no matter how big or small."

[pocketpretzels]

“Yes,” Watts said. “Though I will certainly do my best to be able to play more than a single note for you.”

[hasaknightjob]

"At least two then?" Steven asked, grinning up at him.

[pocketpretzels]

“At least,” Watts said. “A proper tune, that. If a simple one.”

[hasaknightjob]

"Maybe something you could sing along to?" Steven said. "As an option, I mean. Not trying to put pressure on you."

[pocketpretzels]

“That is my eventual goal,” Watts shared.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven's smile grew wider. "I like hearing you sing. I would enjoy listening to you sing and play if you ever felt up to it."

[pocketpretzels]

“We shall see,” Watts said, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. “If I am any good at it.”

[hasaknightjob]

"Take all the time you need," Steven said. He grinned, since this did tie in to their earlier conversation. "After all, I'm not going anywhere."

[pocketpretzels]

“You might if I turn out not to have any skill for the piano,” Watts said drily. “At least as far as the opposite end of the house.”

[hasaknightjob]

Llewellyn might be joking, but Steven took it seriously all the same. "I would never leave you. Not even for poor music."

[pocketpretzels]

Which earned him a hug, because while yes, he had been joking, there was always that underlying worry.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven hugged him back. "You could play the worst music in all the worlds and I'd still be with you. I promise."

[pocketpretzels]

“Thank you, darling,” Watts murmured into Steven’s shoulder.

[hasaknightjob]

"I'm proud of you for trying," Steven told him. "Or wanting to try, I suppose. Be proud of you for trying when you get to that bit."

[pocketpretzels]

“That will depend on whether I can find a suitable instrument,” Watts pointed out.

[hasaknightjob]

"If Harley doesn't you could always try online," Steven pointed out.

Because he was looking for something older. Otherwise there was the music store.

[pocketpretzels]

“Would the google sell that sort of thing?” Watts asked.

Watts, the google sold everything.

[hasaknightjob]

"It could point us to someone who does," Steven said. "We could have it delivered and all."

[pocketpretzels]

“Oh,” Watts said thoughtfully. “Good to know, I suppose. In case there’s nothing at Dr. Quinn’s shop.”

[hasaknightjob]

"Best to start with her," Steven agreed. "Always good to support the businesses on the island if we can."

[pocketpretzels]

“Particularly when said business belongs to a friend,” Watts agreed. “Or potential friend, I suppose.”

[hasaknightjob]

"She's been lovely all the times I've had a chat with her," Steven said, for what that might be worth. "Not that it's been many, but even so."

[pocketpretzels]

“Marc certainly likes her,” Watts pointed out.

She’d received a standing invite to Midnight, after all. That was pretty exceptional.