near the end of a long year

[tactician]

Rare was the day where the political sphere wasn't abuzz, even all the way down to the lower echelons of the profession, with secretaries and agencies worming their way into last minute flights for their significantly more powerful supervisors, but even on Ennaspie, Christmas morning was a quiet one. Rarer were still was a quiet morning where Weiler wasn't sound asleep when Locke woke to a room bathed in early light.

Instead, though Weiler had stayed in bed by Locke's side, he was sitting up against the headboard, blankets pulled up to his waist as he looked at something through a sliver of window behind the drawn curtains, a soft ivory they had settled on after (admittedly not much) consideration. He was sleepy-eyed when he noticed the shift in Locke's breathing from slumber to waking and looked down, but he didn't say anything quite yet.

He only smiled, in fact, and said nothing at all.

Comments

[tactician]

Weiler brightened. Locke laughing was a good sound to start the day off with.

"Not the entire day," he supplied, looking pleading. "But it's still so early."

[aphelionix]

"Fair enough," he said, reluctantly pulling himself away to stand. "I'll make coffee and breakfast."

[tactician]

It seemed as though Locke wasn't the only one reluctant, because a few moments after they had separated and Locke was well on his way to setting up the brewer and pulling out a pan or two, Weiler joined him as well, one of Locke's T-shirts thrown over his own sleeping clothes and a small department store bag in hand.

"I forgot this," Weiler said, holding the bag out to Locke. The tiny bag was weighed down exactly by one pair of normal socks and one pair of...appropriately lizard-patterned ones. "They ran out of iguana."

[aphelionix]

Locke stopped what he was doing, leaving the pans on the stove, raising an eyebrow at the bag handed to him. A smile stretched his lips when he pulled the socks out, setting the bag aside.

"They're great," he said, running a thumb over the material. The multicolored lizards even had their tongues sticking out. Locke leaned forward to kiss Weiler. "Thank you."

[tactician]

Weiler clearly looked dubious and didn't think it was anything worth close to a kiss, but he leaned over to graciously accept it anyway, this time with the addition of tasting like minty toothpaste.

"Next year you should choose something more...valuable," he suggested, sitting back down.

[aphelionix]

"I'll take the actual iguana next year," he said, grinning.

[tactician]

"You know, you hadn't struck me as a reptile man," Weiler said, a knowing smile on his lips that meant nothing but trouble as he traced a fingertip in circles on the counter. "You never seemed to like Angaryans much."

[aphelionix]

Locke scoffed. "That's completely different," he said, turning on the stove before going to the fridge for eggs.

[tactician]

This was a comfortable routine that they had fallen into, one that Weiler had never guessed he would have gotten to experience, and all the more precious because of that. Locke liked handling himself around a kitchen and Weiler liked watching him, but he had no qualms taking them out for a meal when the occasion rose either.

"Hardly," Weiler said, "Both are reptilian species, and of the two, I would think Angaryans are better versed in conversation than iguanas."

[aphelionix]

"And there you have the very reason I prefer iguanas," he said, throwing some butter in the pan to melt. "I don't dislike Angaryans, though." If they're not trying to swoop down on his boyfriend, that was.

[tactician]

"Should I be worried?" asked Weiler, chin propped in one hand. "Am I going to have to compete with a lizard for your undying affection?"

[aphelionix]

Locke glanced up, with a very flat expression, stepping past Weiler to retrieve something from the hallway closet. Another bag, which he handed over to him. Inside was a new tie, in a very sleek brown with tan swirls, and... house slippers. Cozy, fuzzy ones.

"Before I forget," he said, a little shyly. "Merry Christmas."

[tactician]

Weiler reached up and caught Locke's wrist before the man could withdraw, keeping his grasp on Locke even as he dropped the bag onto the counter and reached into it to retrieve tie and slippers alike with his free hand. The tie, like its giver, was subtle and quiet in its class, and the slippers were just...a little more whimsical than Locke usually displayed. Weiler instantly liked both immensely.

He laughed as he dropped the slippers onto the cold kitchen tiles and toed his way into them, pulling Locke down for a kiss to his temple at the same time. "Thank you. I love them."

[aphelionix]

Smiling, he obediently leaned down, a hand on Weiler's waist. Locke was relieved, having been unsure about what to get him. He had noticed the man tended to get cold feet often, and figured this would help warm them. As for the tie, well, they were very often used at his workplace.

"Good." He smoothed down the bit of hair sticking at the back of Weiler's neck, kissing him back on the cheek.

[tactician]

Grinning, Weiler looped the tie loosely around his neck, though he clearly had no pressed collar to fit it under, or tailored vest to tuck it behind. He looked positively mismatched and yet perfectly comfortable, sitting at the kitchen counter with a silk tie around his neck, Locke's T-shirt on his shoulders and slippers of the fuzzy variety on his feet.

"Is there anything you wanted to do today?"

[aphelionix]

Locke couldn't help but laugh at the image, cracking the eggs into a bowl to whisk up. He had certainly found himself a silly man.

"I'm rather content with staying in," he said. "What about you?"

[tactician]

There was a moment's hesitation before Weiler answered, barely a pause long enough to register and noticeable only when one knew Weiler well enough that even a second's delay was a little odd.

"There's somewhere I'd like to go with you."

[aphelionix]

He raised an eyebrow. "Where's that?"

[tactician]

Weiler smiled. "A surprise. Will you come?"

[aphelionix]

His glance turned into a look of suspicion, but he nodded. "Of course."

[tactician]

He'd reward Locke for that act of trust and discretion later, but for now he stood up, disappearing briefly to retrieve something from their room and the table beside their messy, unmade bed.

Weiler returned with Locke's phone in tow and set it on the kitchen counter, flipping it open to initiate the encryption code they used for any form of communication that they didn't want to be traced.

"Do you want to call your family now?"

[aphelionix]

By the time Weiler returned, the eggs were almost done, made into omelettes with ham pieces and cheese (extra on Weiler's). Locke reached over Weiler's head to grab two plates, raising an eyebrow down at the phone. The time there in Bayside was getting close to evening - it'd probably be a good idea.

"Couple more minutes," he said.

[tactician]

Weiler sat down with the omelette in front of him, still fiddling with Locke's phone.

"Don't want to speak to your mother with food in your mouth?" he teased.

[aphelionix]

"I'm sure she'd love such a rude call on Christmas," Locke joked back, serving up the second omelette and joining Weiler, handing him a fork.

[tactician]

"Your mother would love any call from you," Weiler pointed out, setting on Locke's prepared breakfast with an eagerness that was indicative of almost all kinds of food Locke served up. So far, the man hadn't struck out even once.