Pumpkin Hollow Inbox

[maltesefalcon]

By Phone, Sending Stone, Appointment or Random Encounter

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[lightconductor]

His expression flickers, because actually that does sound very nice, and this is, at present, something of a conflicting thought. He does so love to be kissed, but also he's exceptionally fond of the version of Cerrit that he has.

"And here I was wondering if you found the entire experience distasteful in retrospect," Watson sighs. "I... suppose we oughtn't have this conversation in the street, either, my dear fellow. Come on. Where shall we go?"

[maltesefalcon]

“My home, your home, take a walk out in the Festival Green. Wherever suits you. With you, wherever that may be.”

Not married, still smitten.

[lightconductor]

"Oh, love."

Just as smitten. He squeezes Cerrit's arm affectionately.

"From a practical standpoint, your home is closest. If you don't mind."

[maltesefalcon]

“I never do.” He moves so he’s on the opposite side from Watson’s cane, offers him an arm to escort him like some sort of gentleman. Gentlebird.

“It was a nice dream.” That comes out before they reach his home. It feels important to say that much aloud sooner.

[lightconductor]

"It was," he agrees, without hesitation. "I enjoyed it, very much."

Watson leans against Cerrit a little as they walk, because he can, and because it's pleasant, and because he makes for a comforting heat source on a chilly day. He's also unable to keep from flashing a small, pleased smile at him.

[maltesefalcon]

Cerrit uses a wing to shelter Watson from the wind. Luckily, the walk is short and soon he’s ushering Watson into his house, which is small and practical and not very well-decorated. He’s done little feathering of his nest, so to speak.

“Tea?”

[lightconductor]

"Yes, I think that would be nice."

He lingers next to Cerrit, though, and then reaches to kiss him in what way he can, trailing his lips along the side of his beak and the flesh at the base of it. It may not be like most kissing he's done, but it's heartfelt and needs to be done.

[maltesefalcon]

Cerrit shivers, touched by the gesture. His arms wrap around John, holding him close, loath to step away and miss a moment of this warmth.

[lightconductor]

Watson rests his head against Cerrit's shoulder, and lets out a long sigh.

"You did make an exceptionally handsome human man, you know, but at the same time, I am extremely fond of the genuine article. I want you to know that."

[maltesefalcon]

“And I love you even without a sealskin to pet on when you’re not around.” Cerrit laughs and disentangles just enough to shed his coat, so Watson has access to more of his feathers in case he wants that for some reason.

[lightconductor]

Why yes, that is a thing that he wants! Watson gives a warm chuckle and smooths Cerrit's feathers with his hand.

"You did like to do that, didn't you? Mind you, I'm not sure I'm any better."

[maltesefalcon]

“Better, worse. John, I want you in my life, as a partner. As my love. I still don’t know what something between us looks like, but I know you’re dear to me beyond all reason.”

Cerrit reaches a taloned hand out, strokes Watson’s hair with his usual care.

[lightconductor]

A degree of tension fades under the touch of those talons. Who cares about tea?

"This is not like any courtship I've had before," he says. "I say that with the confession that I was rather wild in my younger days. And I do think we are, in a sense, speaking different languages. But I don't think this is insurmountable. We're intelligent men."

Watson lets his fingers rest, comfortably woven into Cerrit's feathers. This is very satisfying. "I would enjoy an evening where we spend the night together without it being because we are tired and terrible things have happened."