circle7 | near the end of a long year

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near the end of a long year

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.

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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.

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."

Edited 2012-12-26 05:29 (UTC)

Locke circled his fingers around Weiler's hand on his sleeve, pulling it into his coat pocket instead. They passed a lot of holiday decorations which, admittedly, brought a little more cheer to an otherwise solemn outing. Even with a biting, dry cold, their walk was enjoyable in that way. They hadn't put up any decoration themselves, apart from a very miniature tree in the window. It made him wonder a bit.

"Was your family big on Christmas?" Locke asked.

"Bigger on holiday drinking parties," Weiler responded, tilting his face up. It wasn't sunny but it was bright, the sky that faded gray color that was indicative of winter. "I didn't come home often from boarding school, but everyone went home during the end of the year. It was nice to see my family after a long while like that, but when you're a kid, your parents always seem the same to you. You don't notice them getting older, growing tired, the way you do when you've got a little bit of age on yourself."

They reached an area where the houses gave way to a flat expanse of rolling plain, hills that led up into higher ones. In warmer seasons, it was covered with well-cared-for and often-mowed grass, but in winter, only the dry, pale yellow remnants of it crunched under their feet as Weiler pulled them through the gate and up a path.

"It wasn't a bad childhood," said Weiler, eyes ahead on the road. "I had everything I wanted, and you could tell that they tried. It was probably just...a little different than what you were used to. I just thought that since it's been a while and I've seen your family, that maybe you'd want to see mine, at least once."

Locke listened as he spoke, silent as he often was. He imagined a younger Weiler, in school uniform and just learning to style his hair back like it was now. An independent, young man, who knew from the start that he was a very separate entity from his parents. Locke's dependence on his own carried on much longer, almost with a sense of guilt - which was why he left in the first place. He definitely understood the shock of seeing age on your parents, too, once you were older yourself.

"I'm glad you brought me," he said, squeezing Weiler's hand in his, smiling at him. "I think they raised a fine man, in any case."

Weiler turned to him, a small smirk on his mouth that did little to betray the softer expression on the rest of his face. "What a charmer, Herr Locke. Don't think I don't know that you're only saying that because we sleep together."

As far as grave sites went, the Haettenschweilers' were rather standard. They clearly hadn't opted for anything as lavish as their own tree or mausoleum. Mr. and Mrs. Haettenschweiler were buried side by side, their resting place marked by one of thousands of headstones lining the sides of the graveyard hills. Weiler's father's headstone looked a little newer than his mother's, and a quick glance at the dates engraved into the marble confirmed that Mr. Haettenschweiler had died about six years after his wife, at the ripe age of ninety-six.

"Well, here we are," said Weiler, straightening his back as if he were steeling himself. "Now we're even."

It was modest, and indeed less lavish than Locke would've thought, but that didn't make it a bad spot. The view from the hills was beautiful, even covered in white, and their headstones were well taken care of. The scuffs and dulling on them were from natural wear, as far as he could tell.

Locke stared a while, mentally nothing their information. They really had waited to have a child. He couldn't say he disliked the results, of course; despite the teasing, he really did feel lucky to have a man like Weiler at his side. And the longer he looked at the two graves, the more things crossed him mind; things he wasn't sure the either of them were ready to think about yet.

But there was something he did want to know - just in case. He turned to Weiler. "Do you want to be buried here?"

Weiler laughed, turning to Locke. "Bit soon to be thinking about something like that, isn't it?"

"We're not exactly in the safest business," he said, concerned.

"Can't necessarily guarantee there'll be a body to bury, at that rate," replied Weiler, smile wry. The hand in Locke's pocket squeezed tight. "It doesn't really matter to me where I am once I'm dead. I don't suppose I'll have much of an opinion on anything then."

He looked up. "Would you want to go home?"

Edited 2012-12-26 18:12 (UTC)

"Maybe," Locke said with a shrug, leaning his shoulder against Weiler's. "I don't suspect I'll have much opinion when I'm gone either, but it may be nice to know we're together even then."

Oh.

Weiler turned to stare at Locke, in awe of the man's confidence to say something like that. It was admirable, since there were still decades and battles ahead of them, but Locke had always been the braver of the two of them. Weiler was glad he chose this man to bring here.

He lowered his eyes, humbled and feeling light. He nodded, shuffling his feet in the dry grass. "I have no preference, but it would be nice. We can both go to Boriniat."

As usual with Locke, too, the weight of his words hit after they spilled out. He felt warmer than he should in this weather, and his fingers tightened a fraction more around Weiler's. They didn't have to discuss it in depth now - as Weiler said, it was a bit soon, but in this setting and in their profession he couldn't help but think about it, and he tended to speak his mind with this man.

"If your parents approve, of course," Locke whispered, as though they could be listening, with a small smile.

Edited 2012-12-26 19:17 (UTC)

"To be fair, they don't have much of a say in it, but I'm sure it's fine with them," Weiler replied. He turned Locke to him and drew him down, bumping their foreheads then the half-numb tips of their noses together before finally bumbling his way to their mouths. Their lips were cold when they made contact, but Weiler didn't seem to mind with how he pushed into it. There wasn't a place he would rather be today.

"Thanks for coming, Rhys."

Edited 2012-12-26 19:27 (UTC)

Locke didn't much mind either, eyes closed, his other hand raised to Weiler's face. He was just as surprised by this man at times as Weiler was by him. He hadn't expected this trip today, but he was glad they came. Some unexpected questions were answered, and some raised, but he only looked forward to the day they could be answered too.

"Thanks for introducing me."

"I met your family, so it was only fair," laughed Weiler, swaying forward into Locke before pulling back again. "But now that you know, I've lost that mysterious attractive edge. I'll have to find something to replace it."

Locke chuckled, digging his hands back into his pockets. "Now that you mention it..."

Weiler's hands dug into Locke's jacket sleeves. He laughed. "It's a bit early to be losing the heat of the relationship already, isn't it?"

"It can't be helped that you lost that enigmatic allure," he reasoned, feigning a thoughtful look.

"Whatever will I do now that you know about my exceptionally interesting parents who ran accounts all their lives and only died of old age?" Weiler groaned around a smile, spinning away from Locke to bring a wrist to his forehead. His parents, had they really been watching, would have been surprised. Weiler had never really joked around so freely with them, though he had never been quite serious either.

Hand falling to his side at the thought, Weiler paused before making his way to the stone markers at the head of his parents' graves. There wasn't much to be done in terms of upkeep (the monthly fee withdrawn from his parents' legacy accounts saw to that) but he reached out and brushed some old snow and branches off the top with the side of his sleeve nonetheless - the first and probably the last of small gestures from their wayward son, who had taken a while, but finally managed to burrow a place for himself somewhere in the System.

Locke smiled as he watched him, laying a hand on his shoulder. There was a gratitude he felt towards these two people he had never known, for raising such a boy. He couldn't credit them for the man he became; not entirely, anyway. Maybe he could thank the Circle for that, but mostly Weiler himself. His self-sufficiency was rather spectacular.

"You should show me around your hometown a bit," he said.

Weiler raised a brow at him, face caught halfway between surprised and sheepish. Locke had always expressed a sort of curiosity about Weiler's background, and while Weiler wasn't really embarrassed of his upbringing, there was something about revealing this much a little...embarrassing. "There isn't really much to show. People don't pay to live here for the excitement.

"And what about your cake?"

"It'll keep," he answered with a shrug. "But I figure everything's closed, anyway. I did see a nice park, though."

Sentimental, shy, and surprisingly kind for people who had come from a profession like theirs, Locke never managed to grow predictable or do quite what he expected. Weiler smiled, slipping his hands back into Locke's roomy jacket pockets again, and stood up on his toes to reach Locke's ear.

"Are you asking me on a cheesy Christmas date, Cupid Rhys Locke?"

Locke tucked his cold face into Weiler's neck, smiling against the skin. His breath was warm, though. "Well, it's something we haven't done before."

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tactician - 2012-12-27 16:37 (UTC) - Expand

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aphelionix - 2012-12-27 22:26 (UTC) - Expand

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