Charming

[Joshua Bernstein]

((OOC: This thread takes place the weekend of Valentine's Day)

From the outside the cabins were fairly typical, quaint, log cabin in the woods although with the occasional odd architectural design. They were far enough apart from one another, and the woods thick enough, that it was easy to imagine total isolation, two men together with nobody else in the world to worry about.

On the inside, the cabins were more than simply rustic mountain cabins; they were magical getaways that transported the renters to long long ago and faraway. This particular cabin was themed Castle Garden; the interior had a jacuzzi beneath the carved trees threaded with tiny electric lights and a moat with a controllable waterfall. The furniture was all intricately carved, and massive; the dining room table was seven feet. As if a couple on a romantic getaway needed that much space for dinner! The staircase spiraled up into a turret, which was where the bedroom was located. A carved four poster King sized bed awaited in front of an over-sized fireplace and a closet stuffed with costumes for guests of all sizes. From the bedroom there were wide arches that lead off onto a balcony that overlooked the bottom floor. The windows were stained glass, and the front deck lead to a semi-enclosed gazebo.

Josh had begun planning for this trip since before Thanksgiving; he had enjoyed last year's Valentine's Day immensely, but this year President's Day was immediately after Valentine's Day, which meant that Sean had a long weekend. They couldn't take off on Friday because of the school dance, and so he had instead wheedled his partner into taking off Tuesday since they had to drive on Saturday.

As soon as they had arrived the attorney had gotten into the spirit of the weekend. He had changed into a high-collared tight-fitting white jacket with a delicate silver floral motif and pale blue cuffs. The jacket came along with matching white dress breeches. He didn't exactly have the body for this outfit, but as Sean was the only person who would see him this didn't matter.

"Prince Charming has arrived!" He announced, striking what was meant to be a dashing pose in front of the fireplace.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had had a great time last Valentine’s Day, in part because of the novelty of their plans. The telepath had never been someone who needed to have a perfect Valentine’s Day in order to enjoy a relationship; he had never been someone who valued that particular holiday over others when in relationships at all, or who allowed the day to depress him when he found himself single. Instead, as with many other areas of life and relationships, Sean took his cues from his partners and adjusted his behavior and expectations accordingly.

Sometime after the snow storm in November, Josh had asked whether the telepath would be offended if he took charge of their Valentine’s Day plans this year. Sean had asked why he would be, and the attorney had replied that, as a couple, they had put the psychiatrist in charge of all important decisions.

That had been a joke, the result of banter and baking during a snowy day, but the reply put a smile on Sean’s lips. His partner didn’t always remember to do all of his house chores, and he still sometimes forgot to charge his cell phone, and he had brought a drunk Stefan Spencer into their home while the journalist was on probation for driving while intoxicated, but they attorney always remembered the intimate details of their banter, and Sean took comfort in that.

As a result, he’d told Josh to make whatever plans he needed for that weekend, keeping in mind that Friday was the dance and they had to chaperone, and that Monday was a day off.

At first, the telepath hadn’t planned on taking Tuesday off; a three-day weekend was more than enough, given that both men tended towards workaholic behaviors. However, Josh had ensured him that the additional day was very important, and, furthermore, as they had no plans to travel for the winter break beyond going into Burlington, Sean had conceded. Hammel had plenty of notice of his absence, and a single day wouldn’t hurt; particularly since he would be back by Wednesday, so he could debrief after the dance with the Student Activities Council.

The dance itself had gone mostly fine, with the exception of an errant pheromone manipulator. Since there hadn’t been mass chaos – only a bit more touching than there should have been – Sean had slept fairly well the night before, and, with excitement, he and Josh had loaded the car. For the telepath’s part, since Josh had planned the majority of their weekend, he had concentrated on packing supplies, including making a gift basket for the weekend as a whole, and particularly for Sunday.

The drive had only been a few hours, taking them north and east to cabins nearer the New Hampshire border than he typically traveled. Everything about the cabin set up was charming in its way. Moreover, the psychiatrist could measure social progress by the fact that they were obviously two middle-aged cisgender men who arrived at a romantic fantasy destination for Valentine’s Day weekend together, and the cabin staff had checked them in without blinking an eye.

Although Sean had some idea of what Josh had planned, he tried to tune out specifics, so that his partner could surprise him. When they reached the split-level cabin, the telepath considered himself surprise.

Everything about it was set up to mimic a medieval castle. From the Jacuzzi and moat, to the gazebo, to the four-post bed.

“You’re playing at Saint George tonight,” he told his partner with a smile. Occasionally, the telepath prided himself on knowing so many euphemisms for sex, the result of reading as much as he did. Then, while Josh explored the costumes in the closet – and Sean marveled at the fact that the cabin provided costumes – the telepath had unpacked their other necessities, including the food from the cooler he had brought. Josh had warned him that they had a kitchen and a refrigerator, and that they would be far from restaurants.

That was fine, since the telepath enjoyed cooking.

With Josh dressed, Sean took the opportunity to ogle him. In an objective sense, tights and matching attire no longer flattered his partner, with his love handles and the fact that he was fifty-five, and, although his face didn’t show his true age, other parts of his body did. In the subjective sense, the only one that mattered as far as Sean was concerned, he loved how Josh looked in the coat.

“So he has,” the telepath remarked with a smile. “Has he come to earn this prince’s hand?”

If so, then the psychiatrist would have to dress so he could catch up with his partner.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"Of course! He heard there was a handsome prince in need of wooing."

Josh placed both hands on his hips and grinned. "Does the handsome prince have quests for his suitor? Because Prince Charming is fully prepared for anything."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Anything?” Sean asked with a quirked eyebrow. Fortunately, he thought well on his feet, and he and his partner knew each other so well that they could dive right into this scenario with little planning.

“I do have some quests, each more important than the previous one,” he told the other man with a serious expression. With that, the telepath brushed past his partner, making his way to the costume closet to select one that would fit his rather ample frame. The princess costumes remained on one side, and Sean ignored those to peruse the men’s costumes on the closet’s others side. Several proved too small without him having to measure them, but, finally, he thought he found one that would fit, give or take.

“You should turn around to preserve my honor,” he informed Josh, as he pulled the ensemble from the closet and retreated to the bed. If they were to play along with this fantasy scenario – and Sean had every intention of doing so – then he and Josh were not yet together, they were not even intended for one another, and thus they had to place greater emphasis on propriety than they would otherwise.

Even if, all factors equal, Sean didn’t mind when Josh watched him dress, just as he enjoyed watching the attorney dress.

Removing his sweater and slacks, and setting them aside on the bed, he began to pull on the breeches. It’s a shame they don’t have one with a kilt, he projected to his partner. That would befit Sean’s heritage more, as well as giving them the benefits of the psychiatrist in a kilt.

Alas, they would make do with what they had available.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh covered his eyes and turned about to allow Sean some privacy. "I wouldn't dream of besmirching the honor of the one whose hand I seek," He announced. "Indeed, I want nothing more than to please him."

The comment about kilts brought a smile to his lips.

Perhaps sometime later this week we can make use of the kilt you have at home.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“I should hope not,” Sean replied seriously. Honor had a different meaning among this time and place, within the class of nobility and royalty who would care about such notions. It wouldn’t do at all for the telepath’s prince persona to lose his honor before engagement or marriage, and they had yet to determine whether Josh was a suitable match for him.

Although he had no doubt that, by the end of the weekend, they would know for a fact that the younger man was.

With that, he pulled on the breeches, taking a deep breath to suck in his stomach in order to further accommodate that task. They fit, and he let out his stomach and found they still fit, although they hardly qualified as the most comfortable article of clothing he ever wore, or even the most comfortable costume piece. Still, they would get the job done, and he only cared about that.

With the breeches on, he moved on to the matching jacket.

I think we can arrange for that. They wore costumes at home sometimes, after all. And Sean had bought that kilt a few decades ago, having found one for his clan name. It had been too good to pass up. Since he wore it only rarely, it had held up well over the years, still managing to look almost new. And, while one could never accuse him of possessing a model’s figure, he had the legs for it.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Can I look yet? Josh asked, envisioning Sean adorned in princely attire. He was sure that this would be a feast for his eyes (and his lust) and so he wasn't feeling entirely patient.

"And what quests doth the Handsome Prince require of his suitor? Slaying ogres? Dancing with mice? Marching with ants?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

I just need another minute, Sean replied to his partner’s mental question. Squeezing on the breeches took time, and, now he had to arrange the coat and collar. The sleeves were just a bit too short, but he would cope with that. It wasn’t as though he was a high-powered executive who only wore tailored-to-fit clothing as it was.

Finally, when he had everything on, he told Josh that he could turn around. Sean’s outfit looked similar to Josh’s, although darker, consisting of rich blues with gold cuffs.

He rose smoothly, so that he could stand beside the other man.

“First, any suitor who desires my hand must sing to me two songs. An epic of his past feats, and a ballad of his love and devotion.”

Thankfully, thankfully, Sean had thought of this challenge for his partner, rather than the other way around. While Josh could hardly qualify as a professional singer, at least he had the ability to sing in key, which put him miles ahead of the telepath in this area.

“Did you bring a lute or lyre to accomplish this?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrow in expectation.

He knew that Josh had not, but the room did have a radio, and Sean had brought in some CDs, so that was just as good.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh took a moment to admire Sean, who, he thought, looked quite a bit better in the costume.

"An epic about my past feasts, you say?" He stroked his chin in thought. He wasn't a terrible singer, when given a ready made tune and lyrics, but coming up with a song on the spot was perhaps a bit advanced for him.

"Hey food, don't make it bad, take a bland meal and make it betteeeer."

He needed more lyrics. How did lyricists do this?

[Dr. Sean Neville]

How the other man looked in costume compared to himself was one of the areas where Josh and Sean never quite saw eye-to-eye. It wasn’t as though they disagreed so strongly that they would come to blows, but, because each man had a healthy appreciation for his partner’s physique and appearance, each man tended to believe that the other looked in costume, or in a given outfit when dressing for a party like the Holiday Bash.

As a result, Sean disagreed with Josh’s assessment, believing that the attorney’s costume looked better. The pale blue matched his eyes, and the white looked regal. Moreover, as Josh belonged to a more typical clothing size, the jacket fit him better more generally.

Then, when Josh repeated the request back to him, Sean shook his head, about to correct him that he had said feats, but, alas, it was too late, and the other man had begun to sing.

It took all of the telepath’s practiced composure to keep from bursting out in laughter. Both for the Beatles song reference and the lyrics themselves.

Instead, he covered his mouth with his hand, as one might do at court, and finally made the correction. “Feats, Prince Charming. Unless you’re known more for hanging around the kitchens and the dining halls than you are for slaying dragons and wrestling ogres.”

[Joshua Bernstein]

"Oh! Feats! Ah, yes, my mistake."

In this roleplay universe he wanted to be valiant and brave, not like his usual self at all. This Prince Charming wouldn't have gotten his ribs kicked to pieces by terrorists.

No!

He didn't want to think about that now! He was on a romantic getaway, and it had been what? Five years? He was supposed to be over this! But instead he felt anxiety and distress cloud over his previous good mood.

"Pardon me, my prince, but I think I need a coffee before I proceed."

Something to bring him back into the headspace of the present.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean frowned at his partner’s request. There was nothing inherently wrong with wanting coffee, or with wanting to take a break from their role play, but it was uncharacteristic. They had only just begun, and his partner’s mood had shifted so quickly from enthusiasm to this more maudlin disposition. Still, he would never insist they continue beyond Josh’s comfort, and, thus, the telepath replied, “Of course.”

He pulled off the jacket, since that would provide him with more range of movement than trying to roll up the too-short sleeves. “I’ll put the coffee on,” he promised, all affectations of his princely role forgotten now. “Are you hungry? I could make us something to eat,” he offered. They’d had a full breakfast before leaving Pilot Ridge, but that been hours ago, and they had not eaten lunch.

While waiting for the other man to reply, Sean probed lightly, not so deep as to be intrusive, but enough to make sure that his partner was all right. Josh was, in the abstract sense, but the telepath found echoes of a familiar memory: of the attorney curled up in the woods outside Pilot Ridge, coughing and half-conscious from pain following his assault by the DeGreas twins. Traces of the shame and self-loathing and trauma that his partner had experienced more than five years ago as the result of that violent attack bubbled up in Josh’s mind, and those had no place here.

Not because he imagined the other man somehow immune to trauma – in fact, Sean knew precisely how traumatized Josh had been, having cared for him in the aftermath and then serving as his therapist much later – but because Josh shouldn’t have to suffer such flashbacks during lighthearted banter and role play at an isolated fantasy-themed cabin on the day before Valentine’s Day.

As he approached his partner to get to the stairs that would bring them back down to the main level and the kitchen, he offered his hand for comfort. “I brought us sandwich fixings; how about I grill you a pimento cheese sandwich with ham and tomatoes?”

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh forced a smile to his lips. "That would be wonderful," He agreed. It had been awhile since breakfast, a fact that he only noticed now that it had been called to his attention. Perhaps eating would allow him to ground himself in the present.

Of course, he also felt a bit guilty for breaking so early in the game, and so he reached out to lightly touch Sean's upper arm. "I'm sorry. We can try again after lunch."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean reached out to cover Josh’s hand on his arm, patting gently. “There’s no reason to apologize; we have the whole weekend ahead of us.” They had only just arrived at the cabin, after all. His partner had been so eager that they dove right into the atmosphere, costumes, and role play, but that didn’t change the fact that they had all the rest of today, as well as all of Sunday and Monday, and part of Tuesday to fantasize with one another. The telepath had patience enough to delay gratification, and he had empathy and concern enough to prioritize his partner’s well-being.

With that, he started down the winding staircase to the main level of the cabin, disappearing into the kitchen to find a skillet (since Josh assured him that the cabin boasted a set of cookware for guest use), and to start the stovetop so they could cook.

“I brought us a couple of bottles of wine,” he told his partner over his shoulder, since they tried to make healthier alcohol choices these days. Particularly with the other indulgences which came from the holiday. “Do you want to open one for us and help yourself?”

Having a minor task on which to focus might help the other man calm down.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Despite Sean's reassurances Josh was disappointed with himself. He had thought about it less and less, so that now his trauma only resurfaced occasionally rather than with frequency, but although this hadn't happened in months he still felt this was the worst possible timing.

He creased his brow as he followed his partner down the stairs. "Wine might be nice..." He agreed. He had seen Sean unpack the wine from the cooler, although it took him a moment to locate a bottle. He pulled two wine glasses from the cabinets, which he rinsed off in the sink before pouring himself a glass.

"And one for my prince?"