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]

In turn, Weiler retrieved the milk from the refrigerator unit and set it by their plates, mixing it into his coffee only after settling back down. They moved around each other easily in the small kitchen; this much was routine by now.

"Your sister might think you off and disappeared again," Weiler warned, only half joking as he took a sip of the aromatic drink. It warmed him the way only a hot drink could, replacing the chill that had set in after leaving their warm cocoon of blankets with something much easier to manage. "And no one wants that."

[aphelionix]

"She knows better," he scoffed, vaguely wondering what Weiler's sudden focus on his family was all about. Locke looked over at him. "Do you want to talk to my family?"

[tactician]

Weiler shrugged, mouth closed around the prongs of his fork. "I thought I'd say hi, at least."

[aphelionix]

"You're not trying to move in on my sister now, are you?" Locke kidded.

[tactician]

"I don't go after married women anymore," Weiler said, knocking his shoulder into Locke's. "It's more like I'm trying to make a good impression on your family."

[aphelionix]

"You've already done just that." He smiled, patting Weiler's shoulder, before turning to his food again. That made him wonder about something they hadn't talked about, but wasn't sure how to ask. The routine and life they had built here had become a comfortable one as it was. It was hard to believe they'd been here almost a year already.

And still no iguana. Maybe in the coming year.

[tactician]

"It's not a one time deal," Weiler chuckled, putting his used utensils back on the empty plate before taking it to the sink. "It's a continuous effort, especially for their dear, lost son Cupid."

[aphelionix]

Locke rolled his eyes. "That was a long time ago already, Heine."

[tactician]

Weiler nodded, facing Locke with his back as he ran the sink and rinsed off the plates before depositing them in the automatic washer.

"Doesn't make you any less important, though. And it doesn't hurt to keep myself in their good graces."

[aphelionix]

"I hope you're not worrying about that, though," Locke said, sipping his still half-full coffee. The other hand pulled the phone back up, readying it to place a call. "They like you."

[tactician]

"I know they do," Weiler said, drying his hands and crossing over to Locke with a grin. He draped his arms over the man's shoulders and bent forward to brush their mouths together, smiling as he focused on Locke's face at such close proximity. "But I want them to love me."

[aphelionix]

Grinning up at him, Locke moved in for one more kiss.

"Ambitious," he stated, setting up the number to dial. The speaker was on, the dial tone going for a few seconds before it clicked.

"Hello?" a young voice answered; an excited Jenna.

"Hi, Jenna," Locke greeted, the smile in his voice. "Merry Christmas."

[tactician]

"And Scott with her, no doubt," said Weiler quietly, but loud enough for it to be audible from the phone's other end. Jenna's brother was famously quiet, though lately he had begun to speak more and more, slowly opening up to the world around him. It was a solid piece of guesswork - the two siblings were rarely found apart.

He rest his chin on Locke's shoulder and looked down at the phone, half of his attention on the device and half on Locke's profile. The man was always so unguarded and happy when interacting with his family.

[aphelionix]

"H-hi," came the small voice of Scott.

"Hi Scott," Locke said. "Are your mom and grandma there?"

"Yes!" Jenna filled in, and her voice faded to the background. "Maaa! Grandma! It's Uncle Locke and Uncle Weiler!"

That drew a wide smile from Locke, leaning into Weiler a little more, wearing the title with pride. He rested a hand on his arm, caressing mindlessly.

"Merry Christmas Rhys and Weiler!" a chime of about three voices called out; Diana and his parents.

[tactician]

"Merry Christmas," Weiler chimed in with Locke, breaking off from the chorus as Locke began to address each family member in turn in favor of tucking his face a little closer to Locke's neck to chuckle. He was an 'Uncle' now, too, and sometimes the ease with which the family had invited him into the fold was both surprising and humbling.

Locke's family sounded well and happy, as a family should near this time of year. As the adults spoke, the laughter of children could be heard in the background. Apparently, the family was in the middle of preparations themselves, a special holiday meal in the works over at their Boriniat household. Locke no doubt would have loved to be there and maybe one day, soon yet, he would.

[aphelionix]

They caught up some, talked a little more to the kids, and discussed what they were all doing for the holiday. Locke still didn't know exactly what Weiler had up his sleeve, but knew that when Weiler wanted things to be a surprise, he kept it that way. There was a cake in the fridge Locke made the night before, too, that he definitely planned to dig into today.

The call lasted a good half hour before they finally hung up, and the good mood it left in Locke was obvious. (It had been good before, but he was more awake now, and definitely feeling brighter.) Locke leaned a little heavier into Weiler, kissing his cheek. Despite telling him constantly that he had nothing to worry about with his family, he was relieved and ultimately happy that they accepted Weiler in the end. They still had some secrecy about them, but they seemed to understand.

"So," he said. "When are we going to your mystery place?"

[tactician]

Weiler nudged back against Locke's cheek. "Don't make it sound so exciting." He stood up, withdrawing, and slipped the tie back over his head. It was about time to get properly dressed, after all.

"I want you to meet my family too."

[aphelionix]

Locke blinked, obviously a bit perplexed. For one, Weiler didn't talk about his family much, and two, they were... well, dead. "You do?"

[tactician]

With a laugh, Weiler disappeared into their room, responding from inside as he proceeded to wash up and undress for the shower. "Don't think too hard on it. They kicked the bucket years ago, obviously."

Which didn't really explain all that much about what he meant.

[aphelionix]

He peered down the hall, eyebrow still raised. With the few mentions of Weiler's family, Locke could figure it out, anyway.

"Are you talking about their graves?"

[tactician]

Unseen to Locke, Weiler stopped rummaging around in their admittedly limited closet, arm still outstretched for the hangers and fingers brushing up against nothing but mid-air. He paused for a moment like that, halted, thoughtful, and then very carefully replied, "I thought I'd take a look at what they look like."

His hand slid down the sleeve of one of his suit jackets, a fine and dark material that slithered between the sides of his index and middle finger as he let his arm's weight drag them down. He hadn't been to visit the graves since the funeral; it wasn't a common thing they did in his family, let alone business keeping him understandably away. It was a little bit of his life that he had left behind before fully joining the Circle.

He just wondered if it was still there.

[aphelionix]

Locke wouldn't have been surprised if it was his own family involvement that suddenly inspired this sentiment, but he didn't say anything. He did go to the bedroom, though, catching Weiler before he got in the shower to place a kiss on his shoulder.

"I'll make sure to dress nice for them," he assured, reaching to his side of the closet for his own suit. It was hardly worn, stored in a zip-up bag to protect it from dust given how little it was used.

[tactician]

The kiss caught him unawares but not unwanting. Weiler smiled at the brush of lips against his skin and looked over his shoulder, already recovered from his brief bout of uncharacteristic melancholy.

"Just dress warm, Rhys," he said before entering the shower, the bathroom door left open. "No one's going to be looking."

[aphelionix]

Weiler's hometown wasn't as far as he thought. In an hours time, the train had already reached it. The particular area Weiler came from was very... upscale (but even that word seemed mild). It was clean, and didn't have the rugged look of their new downtown residence. Locke was impressed by it, and was suddenly a little glad that he at least wore a button-up and tie, despite the assurance that it wasn't necessary. (But his long, wool coat and scarf covered everything, anyway.)

The train slowed to a stop, and the doors opened to an indoor station. Locke was happy for little things like that, given the freezing weather out, even though they'd be braving it shortly.

"Lead the way," Locke said, tugging gloves on.

[tactician]

Considering that this was where Weiler had come from, Weiler himself spent a fair amount of time just looking around also. It was understandable, considering the expanse of time that had passed since he had last seen it, but for all appearances, he looked even less familiar with the surroundings that Locke, who, at the very least, retained some semblance of subtlety to his reactions.

Because it was Christmas day and no one was out and about in this area of town, Weiler reached out and clung to Locke's sleeve, just so that they weren't two lonely islands in cold, barren neighborhood.

"It's a bit of a walk," Weiler said, one eye narrowing in unsaid apology. It was frosty outside, as they had both quickly discovered upon leaving their building. The air was dry and cold enough that their breaths barely condensed before dissipating into nothing, and prolonged exposure bit at the tips of their noses, the edges of their cheekbones and the slope of their foreheads. Weiler was infinitely grateful for his gray scarf.

He led them away from a residential street and around what looked like the edge of the affluent borough. "This way."