Time Warp: Natural Twenty for a Natural Fifty

[Ferris Macklin]

Jan 26, 2024.

For the last weekend of January, Ferris had done a great deal of planning. He'd made advanced reservations at New York City's Plaza, a registered historic hotel. Since he was wealthy and rarely splurged, Ferris had reserved one of the Edwardian Park Suites. They came bigger and more luxurious, but included amenities that he wouldn't need, like a dining room or a butler's pantry. While nice... completely unnecessary. Ferris didn't want to have to walk too far in their own room to get stuff. And then there was scheduling the car, the restaurant reservations, getting the dogs sitters, arranging his time off, and then the most difficult part of the whole ordeal, getting Cecil to take time off. Which apparently was easier to say than do.

In the end, Ferris just called the Churchkeys' highest up after his husband and had them rearrange the schedule behind their boss's back. Geez, Sess. Make surprising him this difficult and next time Ferris'll just get a pizza or something.

Late Thursday afternoon, Ferris breezed into the Churchkey Bar whistling. Not innocently, he couldn't pull that off. But whistling. He looked at his watch, and then at his husband.

"Aaaaand time. You're off the clock babe. Come with me. You have to pack."

It wasn't easy maneuvering six feet of protesting Welshman out of his business, but Ferris was a man of many talents. On the way home he said, "You. Me. Four day weekend in New York City. Dogs have sitters. Car has been hired. Reservations have been made."

And he started listing places they'd talked about, places Sess had mentioned, places Ferris knew the food snob and adventurer in him would love. Not too many, he wanted them to be able to explore, but at least one a day. And he had more than one surprise up his sleeve, but time would tell.

Packed, the private car arrived right on time. Not quite a limo, it was still a large Lincoln towncar with a giant back seat and all the amenities. The six hour drive was pleasant, and the driver deposited his passengers and their luggage at the door of New York City's Plaza Hotel. The butler that came with their room greeted them, arranged transport for their bags, and showed them up to their dwelling for the next four days.

Just inside the door, Ferris clapped Cecil on the shoulder. "Whaddya think?" He grinned. "Happy birthday, Sess."

[Cecil Wathen]

Over the past few years Cecil had been drastically cutting back the hours that he was working at the Churchkey. The bar was still his pride and joy and over the past decade it had gone from strength to strength, but it was at the point where it mostly took care of itself. Cecil had long ago hired an accountant to take care of the financial side of things more, and with a strong and trustworthy team of staff members the Welshie had finally become able to take more of a backseat. He was still there for at least a few hours every day though, making sure everything kept ticking over the way it should be. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone more than about sixty hours without at least popping his head in. That being said, he did little of the heavy work any more, playing owner and host rather than trying to do the lion's share of every single job in the place.

Besides, he had a great reason to be at home more often than he had been when he'd first opened the place.

That hadn't stopped him from being very hesitant to leave his business behind for more than a day though, especially since it was yet another milestone day that he was trying to brush to the back of his mind. His birthdays had gotten much easier to face over the past few years, and he completely and utterly blamed his husband for that. Each year was less intimidating now the prospect of a future alone was well and truly gone, and he found it very difficult to imagine how he would be handling the thought of turning fifty if he was still alone. It was still a little heavy on his heart, sure, but the weight was vastly lifted now he had a love by his side.

“Woah woah woah... Pack? Car? Dogsitters? But I said I didn't want to do anything.” Cecil's feeble protests had fallen on apparently deaf ears, but after much faffing around he had eventually started packed up a bag. The protests did not last long after that, and by the time Cecil was double-checking that he had everything he might need he found that he was actually getting very excited, humming tunelessly as he carried their bags out to the rather fancy waiting car.

Once they had arrived at their hotel, Cecil had been in stunned silence. The place was absolutely stunning, more than he had imagined on the ride over, and as the butler showed them up to their room the true enormity of what Ferris had done to arrange all this began to sink in. Brown eyes flicked over the room, drinking it all in, and as Ferris spoke Cecil headed over to the window and looked out at the mesmerising view of the city. “I think...” Cecil's voice was low and quiet, distant. He chuckled softly. “I think I feel very under-dressed.”

Turning back to face his husband, there was a warm smile on Cecil's lips as he walked back towards the door, closing the distance between them and resting a hand lightly on Ferris' cheek. “I also think that you are the most remarkable man that I have ever met.” His thumb lightly ghosted across the soft skin, tracing Ferris' cheekbone, before he gently guided his lips towards those of his husband, softly muttering “Thank you, love.”

[Ferris Macklin]

As Sess had given up more of his hours, so had Ferris as their jobs had progressed. The hiring of a co-head chef helped tremendously, and between them Ferris and the co they split a sixty or so hour a week job right down the middle. He had seniority over the co, but he fairly alternated weekends and holidays like the job was a child of divorced but amicable parents, and was always available in emergencies. So when things like this came up, he could take four or five days off without a blink. For the first time in his life, he enjoyed his time off. Ferris loved spending time with his husband, running with their dogs, or dorking out with their friends.

He just grinned, showing lots of teeth, at his hubby's protests. "I'd be just fine with you not doing a thing and letting me do all sorts of interesting little tidbits to you, but if I couldn't get our reservations on ebay fast enough to make a profit I'd put serious thought to paper training our next puppy on your desk."

New York City was one of the places Ferris had not seen during his traveling youth, but during his short breaks at Hammel he'd visited several times over the years to keep on his skills and the latest in healthy eating. And though it was expensive, NYC had a great selection of good cookware and knives.

Smiling so wide it was any wonder his lips didn't sprain, he looked around, pleased. The room was perfect. The furnishings he didn't really care about, though they were lovely and that giant king-sized bed made him want one for their home, but the room came with its own butler and cleaning crew. There would be no scrubbing the toilet, no clothes washing, no worrying about any pizza crusts going back left out on the coffeetable, hell, they didn't even have to hang up their bathroom towels if they didn't want to.

"Awesome," he returned, eyes sparking with how happy he was that Cecil was happy. "I think you're pretty damn remarkable too." Returning the kiss, once they came apart he replied, "Thank you, Cariad."

His grin turned impish. "I don't have anything planned for this afternoon or night. I thought we could wander around or stay in and order the famous New York takeout or do whatever you wanted. Central Park is right over there-" he nodded toward the window "-so if you wanted to go for a run or something we could do that too." His warm hand patted Sess's cheek back. "And my dear, this is your birthday celebration. You can dress however the hell you want to." Leaning in, he whispered, "I do have fantasies of us hanging out in the lobby in cut off sweats and flip flops just to fuck with people."

Yeah, maybe too much Devon there.

[Cecil Wathen]

Cecil couldn't help but chuckle softly at his husband's comment. “Our next puppy? I thought three was enough for you.” It was no secret that Cecil did want another dog, but he was content enough with the three they had and sensible enough to realise that adding to their pack wasn't a wise idea. Between the two retired greyhounds and the Kelpie who was hardly in the flush of youth any more, they tended to have their hands full most of the time as it was. Adding a new pup to the mix was a recipe for chaos.

The Welshman had only been back to New York a handful of times since the divorce had been settled over twelve years ago, and whilst Cecil did feel slightly strange about being back, it was also quietly exhilarating. It would be wonderful to be able to see the city again with eyes untainted by the darkness of that period in his life, and to be able to explore it with his wonderful husband was perhaps the most amazing present he could have imagined. There was so much Cecil hoped they would be able to see and do while they were here – though of course he would be equally thrilled if they spent the whole weekend not leaving the confines of their stunning suite.

As the kiss was gently broken Cecil smiled softly, his eyes full of loving warmth as he gave his husband a slightly puzzled look. “What are you thanking me for? You must have been planning this for ages... You are so amazing.” Cecil's smile widened as Ferris addressed him in Cymraeg, and he placed a feather-soft kiss on the tip of his husband's nose. “Mae pob munud rydyn ni'n ei rhannu'n werth y byd yn grwn i mi.”*

When Ferris ran through the little list of the things they could do, Cecil mentally checked off a few that would take priority. Going for a run through the park could wait until tomorrow; he wanted to make the most of the time they had now. “I think... going out for a walk would be amazing, then maybe pizza?” Sure it was hardly refined, but New York did have some truly amazing pizza places and even though his own knowledge of the area was over a decade out of date, he knew the staff downstairs should be able to recommend somewhere great. His smile turned playful. “I think tomorrow we should go to Williams-Sonoma. You could use some new knives.” That wasn't true of course, but there were few things Cecil enjoyed more than watching his husband buzzing around a cookware store like a child in a sweet shop.

In response to Ferris' little fantasy, Cecil laughed and shook his head in amusement. “Complete with sunglasses and a cocktail with a miniature umbrella? That's a fantasy I could get into.”

[*Every minute we share is worth the whole world to me]

[Ferris Macklin]

"Three is more than enough," he agreed, "but I bet I could borrow one if there's an emergency." Though their dogs were getting on in age, they were all active breeds that kept the pair more than on their toes. Ferris had not thought he was a dog person, but he loved their silly beasts. Sure, he was a little anal about the hair, but anyone would be with three dogs.

The chef could see the possibilities run through the Welshie's mind through his distant eyes. It was like watching a wheel spin, wondering where it would land. "Yes, I am," he agreed, "but I wouldn't have any excuse for being amazing without someone worth being amazing for." He grinned. "What can I say? You inspire me."

Ferris's Welsh was better than average but not quite fluent, a feat for someone who already read and spoke three languages. "Gall yr wyf yn cytuno â hynny," he said, and couldn't help himself, he had to kiss that amazed face again after the little smooch on his nose.

"Walking and pizza, excellent." Pizza in New York City was unlike any pizza outside of Italy. At the mention of Williams-Sonoma, he laughed. "You talk so sexy to me," he teased. "I think we want to avoid there. You'll never get me out, and our retirement funds would be shot."

Ferris had an almost embarrassing amount of cookware, and that was paring it down to basics. Letting him near W-S would be like letting loose a kid in an amusement park with a million dollars.

"Yeah, maybe watching some obnoxious reality show. But I like our plans better." Hand in hand, the pair left the room after showing the butler where to put their things away and thanking him kindly.

"So should we just... graze? Share a slice from all the places that smell awesome?"


*Gall yr wyf yn cytuno â hynny - I can agree with that

[Cecil Wathen]

“An emergency requiring an entire pack of hounds? Sounds exhilarating.” Cecil chuckled softly, idly picking a small piece of lint off of Ferris' shirt. Cecil adored all of their overgrown puppies, though both men knew that Mephit was his pride and joy. She had been with him through one of the darkest times in his life, and now she was living with him through what was undoubtedly the happiest. “One day I might have to concoct that emergency, just to see what kind of dog you manage to borrow to defeat it.”

Ferris' little speech about Cecil being amazing caused the Welshie to laugh brightly and he rolled his eyes, but a flush of crimson gathered near his temples. “That is so ridiculously cheesy. Have you been reading teenage romance novels again?” Despite the gentle teasing Cecil's gaze was soft and loving, and he gently embraced his husband with his broad arms. “I love you, so very much.”

His husband never, ever failed to amaze him. Every time Cecil thought that he knew and understood Ferris, there would always be something new and remarkable there to create new fascination and attraction. The day Cecil discovered that Ferris had been learning Welsh had almost brought him to tears, because he had struggled to come to terms with the fact that he hadn't thought it was possible to love someone so much that it caused an actual physical ache. “Os ydych yn cadw siarad fel 'na, efallai na fyddwn yn ei wneud yn y bwyty.*”

At Ferris' joking about avoiding the cookware store, Cecil chuckled softly and rolled his eyes in amusement. “We'll see what happens.” It wasn't often they got a chance to go away together and Cecil had every intention of making this long weekend the best it could possibly be, for both of them. If that meant dragging Ferris into the store so Cecil could get to see him buzzing around like it was Christmas, then so be it. It was his birthday after all.

With their fingers entwined, Cecil was quite content to marvel at the stunning interior of the hotel as they made their way back down to the lobby to head out into the city. It was a truly stunning place, and he could feel the excitement mounting again as they stepped out onto the pavement in front of the hotel. “I love that plan. Follow your nose.” He laughed softly, raising their hands so he could plant a soft kiss on the back of Ferris' hand. “Lead on, Lassie.”

[*If you keep speaking like that, we might not make it to the restaurant.]

[Ferris Macklin]

Frankly, the only thing Ferris could think of that would necessitate a pack of emergency dogs was a last minute Iditarod, and he was never going to mention it for fear that Sess would want to do it. That, or just get enough dogs to be prepared just in case. Because he would. He totally would.

He grinned lazily back. "No, but I did spend six months making cheese in a cave in France. So I know all about cheese, my lovely muscular Welsh rarebit." Hugging back, he felt very content. "I love you too, Cariad." Close to the man's ear, he whispered, "Dork."

Loving someone so hard it hurt was a concept Ferris went through almost every day with Cecil. He never thought he'd ever date successfully, let alone marry and be deliriously in love like a teenager every day of it. Sess was a fantasy story come to life, and Ferris could not thank him enough. He'd move them to Wales if he could. Might still, later on when they wanted to retire. But that was for another time.

Resist! Ferris came into the City occasionally for equipment and technique classes, so he had to Resist The Williams-Sonoma. This was Sess's vacation, Sess's trip. Resist! Stay strong! Those silicon pan scrapers would still be there next trip.

Their Pizza Crawl was glorious. It was so hard to keep to a single shared slice, but the prospect of another even better slice kept tempting them around the next corner. Ferris ate way too much, but enjoyed himself thoroughly. The pair took a luxurious shower together in the giant stall, and sleeping on the enormous bed completely spoiled him for their bed at home. Which was lovely and home, but did not have billion thread count sheets made of unicorn hair or whatever this was. They were nice enough that Ferris was pretty sure someone would notice if he stole them.

The next morning the next part of the plan showed up. Breakfast in bed.

Very specific breakfast in bed.

When the pair had woken up enough to want to eat, Ferris rang for their butler (god, he could totally get used to that) and asked for their meals to be brought up.

He'd looked a long time to find an authentic place that would get everything right. He had no way to know if it would stand up to scrutinization, but he'd given his husband's folks a call to verify things. It ought to more than serve.

Ferris could not help smirking when the large wooden trays appeared. Cups of strong tea and coffee, tall glasses of fresh squeezed juice. Dishes beautifully arranged with eggs, bacon, sausages, laverbread, cockles, and toast. Everything but the eggs had been made in Wales and imported.

[Cecil Wathen]

It was no surprise to anyone to discover that Cecil adored his pack, and Ferris hadn't gone into the relationship blind to that fact. Cecil had made sure of that. Mephit had been with him through one of the darkest chapters in his life, and he fully believe he owed everything to her. That being said, he knew that sometimes his own eyes when seeing puppies were pitiful, and it was sometimes difficult to avoid bringing them all home, and so he took the gentle teasing with good natured humour.

The Pizza Crawl had indeed been magnificent, and by the end of it Cecil had felt bloated but deeply content. It wasn't all that often that he and Ferris got to go away and be somewhere new without any of the worries of home, and it was deeply refreshing and went a long way towards keeping him distracted from the fact that he was now half a century old.

By far the best thing about the evening, though had been the company. When he had been with Aaron it had gotten to the point where every day was rather samey. Sometimes it felt like his husband had been more of a housemate that he just happened to share a bed with. It was nothing at all like that with Ferris. Ten years on, and it still felt like a schoolgirl crush. That same gooey, ridiculous, candyfloss 'writing your name in a notebook with his surname after it' kind of love. Reason and sense said that feeling should fade over time, but... it hadn't. If anything, it kept going stronger with each passing year. There were still times when Ferris would kiss him and Cecil would internally explode with the glee of 'oh my god, Ferris Macklin actually kissed me!'. It was silly and he knew it, but he wouldn't change it for anything else in the world.

The next morning Cecil had woken a little tired, but that had nothing at all to do with a lack of sleep. When Ferris had phoned down for breakfast he had expected maybe a cooked breakfast. Pancakes or waffles perhaps. He certainly could never have expected a plate full of home to be brought to him.

For a few long moments Cecil sat and stared at the food, completely stunned and marvelling over just how perfect his husband was to have arranged such a thing. Every time Cecil thought he had won the lottery with this relationship, Ferris found a way to add another million to the jackpot. Clichéd as it may be, Cecil did honestly feel that he must be the luckiest man in the world.

“It's... it's... perfect. It's just... perfect.” Brown eyes looked up at Ferris, full of love and joy and sheer bewilderment all combined. He gave a quiet breath of a laugh. “I'm going to have a job topping this when you get to this point, but damnit, I'll try.” He looked over the tray of food again, placing it to the side before glancing back up at Ferris. “Can I have a cwtch first, please?”

[Ferris Macklin]

It was both adorable and alarming when Cecil encountered puppies. Those brown eyes melted into puddles of LOVE and AWWW, but also MUST HAVE TEN. Ferris had threatened to put a dog quota into a prenup, and currently his max was four. He felt they had plenty of time to devolve into the male canine versions of crazy cat ladies. Fifty was really just a number - Sess was still as healthy and hearty as he'd been when they'd met. Maybe his hair was a little lighter in some spots, maybe he wasn't as ripped. Who cared. He was still active and happy and apparently age had made him more agreeable to spontaneous non-pet trips. Ferris was all for that.

One of the best parts of being married, for Ferris, was that it allowed his little exercised devious side to flourish. Sure, he'd taught Roman's kids to say 'Daddy smells' and teased the everliving hell out of Devon, but with Sess, Ferris could scheme and plan and do awesome stuff like this. He could plant a brand new miniature in his husband's massive army of tiny metal figures and see how long it took him to notice. He could answer a question in Welsh and wait for the shock. He could come downstairs to hand out candy on Halloween dressed as the Tenth Doctor. Honestly, being married was the most fun Ferris had ever had. Seeing that gobsmacked face, those wide eyes... BEST. HUSBAND. EVER.

So he sat back, smirking in satisfaction, as Sess took it all in. The ingredients had been imported in, and there was a pub chef from the homeland who promised to whip it all up into a breakfast no one would tell from one being served in Wales. (And all for just thirty of Ferris's jars! A steal!)

"I'll look forward to it. But I'm happy with winning too." He was surprised when Sess moved the tray, but then burst out laughing. Barely managing to move his own breakfast, he tackled his husband as well as he could still sitting and kissed him thoroughly, ringing that dusky skin with his warm arms. "You're so greedy! I love it!"

One final kiss, and a ruffle of hair, and he looked back to the trays. "We better eat up. You want it hot, don't you?"

Picking up his glass of orange juice, he saluted. "To the fact you have no idea what else I've planned," he said. Stuck his tongue out. "Because I totally do."

[Cecil Wathen]

Now, while looking back over happy years of giddy happiness with Ferris, Cecil did sometimes struggle to work out just how he had managed before. He knew that he had loved Aaron deeply, but their connection had never been like what he now shared with Ferris. He and Aaron had been married lovers but he and Ferris were married and in love, and Cecil knew he would never want it any other way. His heart belonged to the slightly mad, canning-obsessed American, completely and utterly.

The visuals of the breakfast that Ferris had clearly put so very much thought and effort into were matched only by the heavenly smell of rich sausages and smoky bacon with the fresh saltiness of the sea. The sheer amount of work that must have gone into all of this was near enough to bring a tear to his eye, and likely would have done had he been less shocked and surprised. It really was home on a plate, and more than he ever could have hoped or asked for. “It's perfect... You're perfect. Thank you.”

Of all the words in his beloved language, 'cwtch' had always been Cecil's favourite. Not for the sound of it, but purely for the weight behind it. A cwtch was something special, shared between loved ones. A cuddle, pure and loving and protecting, something that a simple hug lacked. It meant 'safe place', and that was exactly what Ferris was. Cecil's slack-jawed shock turned into a grin as Ferris tackled him, the Welshman curling his arms around his husband just as Ferris did to him. Warm. Loved. Safe. Cecil returned the kisses hungrily, smiling against Ferris' lips and cherishing the warmth and closeness of the man that he truthfully believed was the single most important figure in his half-century of life on this planet. “I'm greedy, yes. But it's your own fault for encouraging it.”

As Ferris eventually broke the kiss and announced that they should probably eat while the food was still hot, Cecil gave a mock resigned sigh and shuffled to sit upright again, sneaking a cheeky nuzzle and kiss of Ferris' neck and collar-line on the way. It was in these moments that Cecil was so often reminded of how things were at first; how very difficult Ferris had found any kind of intimacy and how tough it had been to hold himself back enough that he didn't risk spooking him, since even just hugs had proven to be a barrier to work through. Seeing Ferris like this now though, relaxed and comfortable and happy with this closeness and intimacy. That was the best birthday present he could have ever hoped for.

Cecil raised his own glass of juice to match the salute, but came very close to spilling it as he whipped his head back around to stare at Ferris at the announcement. “Wait, you mean, there's more? But, I have you and amazing food and the nicest hotel room on the planet! What more could there possibly be?!?”

[Ferris Macklin]

“It's perfect... You're perfect. Thank you.”

"I know. You're welcome." Ferris smiled breezily back and kissed the end of his husband's nose.

For a long time the younger of the two had not fully understood the meaning of the word 'cwtch' other than it was another of those unreasonable Welsh words that insisted vehemently on not having vowels. And then he did know what it meant, but not the deeper nuance that Sess carried in his heart. He did now, and it was lovely. Yes, Cecil was his home. Where he belonged. It was wonderful.

The short time Ferris had spent in Englandland (a great deal of it at the chippie that had come in so handy later), he had indeed indulged himself in the traditional 'full English'. It had been a bit overwhelming. But until he'd married Sess, he'd never had the Welsh counterpart. And he still didn't care much for laverbread.

He had a bite of sausage and egg in his mouth when his husband spluttered and protested and proved that he perhaps did not fully understand who he was living with, exactly. Ferris had obviously been remiss in his duties.

Raising an eyebrow as he swallowed and took a sip of the coffee, he took his time spreading jam on his toast. "My dear, my love, my possible future puppy hoarder, have we really been living together in wedded bliss this long without you learning that there is always more?"

The twinkle in his brown eyes was merry and deservedly smug. "I do. I do, I do. But you'll just have to wait. Just when you least expect it... boom. But I'll give you this hint: this is your surprise for today. After, we can do whatever you like. Run in the park, see a play, stay here and have sex on every available surface, whatever."

[Cecil Wathen]

Until a few years ago, the best present that Cecil had ever received had been a go on a hang-glider for his twelfth birthday. Whilst to pretty much everyone else on the planet that would have been a nice thing but not in their top ten things ever, to Cecil it had been everything. He had flown so high over the mountains of his home, seen the rolling hills and valleys where he had hunted for dragons and built snowmen and tried to find leprechauns at the end of rainbows. It was a memory he deeply treasured. Then Ferris had accepted his proposal, and suddenly Cecil had a new everything to treasure.

In their years together Cecil had come to understand just how generous Ferris' nature was, and whilst at times it could be a little overwhelming it was always wonderful and made him feel very honoured to know that his partner valued him so much. Granted in the very early days Cecil had assumed the waves of delicious jarred goods had been handed over primarily to get rid of some of them rather than as any particular kind of gesture. However, Cecil had quickly learned that Ferris had the most open and kind heart of any person he'd ever had the privilege of knowing, and the knowledge that he had a place in that heart filled him with a greater warmth and satisfaction than any meal ever could.

That didn't stop him from being shocked by the discovery that there was even more to look forward to, though.

The amused, smug attitude radiating from his husband did cause Cecil to briefly consider abandoning breakfast and opting for a much different type of delicacy instead. Jesus, even after these years Ferris still had the ability to oh so easily reduce Cecil's brainwaves to those of a perpetually horny teenager. The possible suggestions for what they could do to wile away the rest of the hours of the day did nothing to alleviate that.

The Welshman tried to keep his tone equally smug and aloof, but it failed if not for the cracking in his voice than for the hungry look in his brown eyes. “My dear young thing; you forget I'm an old man now. You'll wear me out before lunch... But if I can make it through breakfast without ravishing you, which wont be easy, I vote we test just how sturdy this bed-frame really is. Purely for research before we get one for the house, you see.”

[Ferris Macklin]

For Ferris, hang gliding would've been on the bottom of any sort of to-do list, and that's if he thought of it at all. Certainly not averse to adventures and venturing outside his comfort zone, Ferris preferred his feet on the ground. So it was great Sess had gotten that out of the way before they'd met.

And, well, yes. The multitude of jars had eventually become something of a problem. Giving them away had become both a stopgap measure and a means of rather sly enabling. Abe. Anyway. Didn't mean Ferris hadn't enjoyed seeing the bartender while he was doing the giving. Unlike a few others. Abe.

The cook seemed to have that effect on people. The reducing-others-to-younger-versions-of-themselves thing. It would certainly explain why, to this day, there were certain establishments where he, Devon, and Roman were still banned.

"An old man who can still beat my time at the mile," he replied, taking another bite of breakfast. Mmmm. Despite all the boiled and mashed vegetables and their propensities for putting everything inside a pie crust, the UK really knew how to do fried meats. Just for his husband, Ferris even took a few bites of laverbread off his plate. Yeah, no.

"I suggest we savor this fine meal as it deserves," he added, "and then, once we are free of grease and seaweed, we proceed to do exactly that."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Turned out, for being such a gorgeous piece of furniture, it was also incredibly sturdy. It could more than deal with the fun of a Welshman all pumped up on home cooking and his enthusiastic partner. Ferris admired it; had thoughts, as he was coming down from the massive endorphin rush, that it had perhaps liked it as much as he had. As he stared at the fine, molded ceiling, he thought getting one just like it was a great idea. But then they'd need a room for it, so they could close it up against the dogs. And the idea of building an addition to their house just for a giant sex bed was pretty awesome. Maybe next birthday.

The curls in his hair had tightened all along his hairline from sweat, and he had a goofy, lazy, post-sex smile on his face. The one only Cecil had ever seen. (Well, if he were being honest, Mephit had that one time.)

Once he'd caught his breath, he looked over to his husband. "So what ethnicity of food that we can't get in Vermont d' you want for... lunch? Dinner? What meal are we on again? Tea? There should be a brunchy name for the meal between lunch and dinner. That isn't second lunch."

He was babbling a little, but he didn't care. Ferris laughed a little and stretched. "Funny, Sess. I'd've never figured you were fifty. Nineteen, maybe."

[Cecil Wathen]

Ten years ago, Cecil wouldn’t have even been able to come up with something this wonderful in his dizziest daydream. It still didn’t seem quite real; like it was just a dream that he would all too soon be cruelly woken up from by the rude blaring of his alarm clock. Like if he didn’t cling on to it with ever fibre of his subconscious being, it would all just float away like dandelion seeds on a breeze.

The room was just on the comfortable side of cool, causing his skin to prickle where the sweat from his exertions cooled and dried, but Cecil was too comfortable, content and spent to move. The quiet stillness of the room was punctuated by the soft sound of their ragged breaths, and when Cecil closed his eyes he could imagine there was nothing else. Just the two of them and their massive bed, alone on their little island in paradise.

Brown eyes slowly opened, roaming over the form of his husband who was dappled in the light flickering through the tiny gaps in the shutters, and then lazily closed again. With his head resting on Ferris’ thigh, Cecil had absolutely no desire to ever move again. It had taken him half a century to find this level of peace and utter contentment, and there was a part of him that was afraid that if he moved, he might somehow lose it all.

When Ferris spoke Cecil opened one eye, glancing up at his beloved, and a deeply happy smile rolled across the Welshman’s lips. He thought he would never be able to get used to seeing Ferris like that; so completely undone from his usual stresses and tensions, relaxed and happy and with that painfully adorable smile on his lips. To this day it was still a dizzying sight to behold, and Cecil laughed softly as Ferris rambled on disjointedly. Cecil’s voice was quiet and distant, arm moving to rest on Ferris’ hip, fingers idly stroking the fine hairs on his husband’s lower abdomen. “Well, the bit between breakfast and lunch is brunch, so… linner? Although that does sound a little like a brand of furniture polish.” He pondered for a moment before adding, “It has been a while since we’ve had good tapas, though.”

Ferris’ stretch caused Cecil to raise his head, purely so he could hungrily drift his gaze over the lean muscles rippling beneath his husband’s rather stunning skin. It was a sight he was certain he could never get bored of. He gave a soft chuckle at Ferris’ comment, slowly resting his head back down on its temporary perch. “Well, what is it they say? You’re only as old as the man you feel.” He gave Ferris’ thigh a playful squeeze, tilting his head to plant a soft kiss on the warm skin. “I think that it’s at least partly your fault anyway. I’m sure I felt about ten years of weight fall off my shoulders when you said yes.”

[Ferris Macklin]

Tucking his hands under his pillow propped his head up enough that he could gaze at his husband without craning his neck. It was a terrific view. "Or something you'd do to laundry," he agreed lazily. "Or maybe some sort of obscure woodworking tool. Tapas sound excellent. I could eat a whole tray of pinchos."

The younger man laughed with the elder as his hand caressed his thigh. "Then you're feeling about forty-three," he joked, which was his own age. Ferris chuckled. "Did you now. I didn't realize I was a time machine. Maybe that's my real meta power." Then he sighed, but still grinned. "That just means I brought Roman and Devon on myself."

Running a finger over his husband's stubbly jaw, he gave a forlorn look. "Y'know, this whole eating thing, while very appealing, means we have to like, get up. And... put on clothes." He closed his eyes, considering. "Do I want pinchos that bad?"

After a moment, he opened them and smiled. "No, but we can have more fun later. This bed is awesome."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That night, he told Cecil that they had plans the next day, in the afternoon. "So clear your shed-yool, my good man."

Saturday morning arrived cloudy, and with a definite chill in the air, snow in the forecast. Perfect for staying inside and lounging about with hot drinks and greasy food. Ferris let the tall Welshman watch as he arranged the afternoon's entertainment, their butler (god, it was so surreal and cool to say that, their butler) bringing up the three large monitors, the tiny desktop tower, and a table that expanded with leaves to nearly take up their whole living area. The last thing the good man presented them with was a medium-sized but still densely heavy box. All arranged, of course. Ferris had to fight to keep nonchalant, while inside he was bursting with the secret and the utter glee he felt. Both in knowing he was about to make Sess lose his shit and being able to watch it happen.

The three monitors had been set up in a row on the table's longer side, the two on the ends turned in a bit to concentrate the view on whoever sat in the middle of the table on the opposite side, aka where Cecil was going to be. Ferris sent a few texts, checking the time, and then, with a remote, turned on all three monitors at the same time to display his husband's family on webcam, who all shouted "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" at the same time.

Ferris opened the box, which had been set on the table, with a flourish, and said, "Surprise part two! You are going to game with your family!"