023 (good catches up) [SCW]

of fate; good is always the product of an art.

- Charles Baudelaire

Friday, August 7, 2015 

Like everything else of importance in the Nottingham family, Stanley's wedding was taking place at the family home, which was now, of course, Percival's home. With everything scheduled for tomorrow, the place was a hive of activity: florists carting about huge sprays of flowers, the wedding planner arranging cards and tableware, a harried-looking gentleman seemingly wandering aimlessly with garment bags draped over one arm, Percival and his wife arguing in friendly fashion about just where to house the wedding guests to best avoid people coming to blows, an antsy best man still making finishing touches to his speech, and of course, adding further chaos, ten year old Sebastian and two giant Irish wolfhounds catapulting around the echoing walls and disrupting everybody.

It was little surprise that Stanley would take off, settling himself into the room that had once been the study, with a bottle of homebrew in one hand, slippers on his feet, and a good book. He got comfortable, pouring a tall one while being careful to avoid the sediment at the bottom of the glass (adding character and body, he told himself, ignoring the inner voice that branded him a liar), and flipping open the paperback.

The sound of the door opening had him groaning, and answering without turning around. It was only going to be one person, after all: baby brother Chauncy Nottingham, still wanting direction on that damned speech, which he'd been labouring over with an intensity that his university essays could have used several years back. "For God's sake, Chaunce, no more. Leave it alone and stop inserting your own problems into the speech. Just make it up."

"He's still puttering around the fish pond, muttering to himself about the merits of iambic pentameter but I'll be sure to pass that on." The voice that answered seemed slightly out of place among the more posh accents in the home, definitely lacking in bass when compared to that of his larger-than-life brother-in-law. Larry Gowan stood in the doorway, fighting the urge to wring his hands even though that consternation was written all over his face. "Stanley, is this a poor time? I was hoping to catch you alone earlier but there never really seemed to be an opportune moment and I..." he trailed off, taking a slow breath as he leaned back against the door until the latch clicked home.

Stanley's first instinct was to offer the beer, and the mental take-backs on that before the words left his mouth, had him momentarily off-kilter, clearing his throat loudly in what Chauncy would likely describe as, 'harrumphing'. "I don't think there is a good time right now, what with the bustle, but if you want to have a natter, better now than never. Prudence's people are arriving and her brother and father both RSVP'ed, so we're attempting to avoid full scale battle through diplomatic wrangling. What is it you need, Gowan?"

Stanley hadn't called him by his last name ever, that he could recall and there was a certain frostiness to his tone that he knew he wasn't imagining. "I, uhm, I won't take too much of your time. I just wanted to clear the air, so to speak. I know we haven't really spoken since the..." Larry paused, knowing it was akin to bad luck to mention a dark event on the eve of a happy one, "it's been a while and... well, you see... I just wanted to make sure that we're on speaking terms?" It came out like a question, his voice trembling slightly, "perhaps I'm reading far too much into things but I just get the feeling that something's off where we're concerned."

Stanley motioned him to the wing chair opposite, and began to speak, unconcerned about Larry getting comfortable before he made his point. "You hurt my brother. I doubt that it's healed, and I'm not sure whether you realise. Or perhaps you do, and that was the impetus behind that baby nonsense."

"Baby nonsense?" Larry's butt was almost in the chair before he gripped the armrests and froze, his cheeks flushing crimson, "...he... he told you about that argument we had on the plane?" Sighing, he sank into the chair and looked down at his hands as they clasped in his lap, "right. Of course he did. I'm sorry. I wasn't... and you think... surely you don't..?"

"What better way of securing the relationship than adding a child?" asked Stanley loftily. "He'd be dreadful at it, and I think you know it. He can barely stand Sebastian now he's ten, he couldn't bear the child for sticky fingers and dribble for the first three years."

"Do you seriously believe I have so little regard for this hypothetical human life that I would insert one into the equation as a pawn? I could never do something so cold... so completely and utterly callous." Gowan's eyes were ice blue as they narrowed on Stanley. "I'm sure the wound will never quite heal completely, but I'm doing everything I can do undo that damage."

"I wouldn't have thought so either, but then again, I would have thought you were the type of fellow who wouldn't prioritise his career when his husband's mother passed away," answered Stanley, gulping his beer with a little pang of guilt for actually having it out in front of his brother-in-law, despite his feelings towards him right now. "Especially knowing how close they were. And I'm sure you can think you're undoing it now with your vacation from your current company for this event, but I'm not sure. How much of your time exactly are you investing into mental regret that you're not out there defending those belts?"

There wasn't even a pause as Larry met his gaze levelly. "None whatsoever. Despite how you feel about me or the strength of the relationship I have with your brother, you can rest easy knowing that I'm 100% here for him, and rather unfortunately, I might add, for you as a proxy. Right now, those belts couldn't be further from my mind."

"So why weren't you before?" he asked simply.

Larry's eyes cut towards the glass of cloudy beer, chuckling softly. "I think you know the answer to that."

"That's what I don't understand. Why he wouldn't leave somebody who chose over him, whether that was another lover or..." He finished the beer, setting aside the glass and wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. "Or anything else."

And just like that, all the pain and hurt and hopeless depression came flooding back to him in an instant. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "You'd have to ask him why he changed his mind, Stanley. I can assure you I didn't brainwash or coerce him in any way. Sometimes love doesn't make sense."

"I did ask him, and that was his bloody answer. That he loved you." Stanley sighed heavily, shaking his head. "He always has, though, like you're the only bloody thing in the world he's ever wanted. Even though you've been no good to him at times. I trust Chaunce's judgement on a lot of things, wouldn't have made him the best man if he wasn't, but I just... Larry, I can't trust it on you right now."

"I see." Gowan nodded, pushing back up to his feet, "well then I suppose there isn't much to be solved in me sitting here grovelling on the eve of your big day. So..." he glanced back towards the door, feeling a dull ache in his temples from the tension. "Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate that."

"I'm not finished." Stanley stood up, sighed heavily, sounding like one of those wolfhounds after a long day of havoc-wreaking. "I need to be able to, or I... This is a big decision I've made, and I did it rather on the fly, and now..." He shrugged helplessly.

"And now? Regrets or doubts? You're a good man, Stanley. Relationships are far more successful if you're friends first."

"Pru is a good egg," answered Stanley. "Maybe it's a familial trait, although Lord knows our father wasn't one for fixating on one love, was he? Maybe we're simply not able to give our hearts out more than once." He sighed. "I'm sorry if I come on a little strong, it's just... he's the little one."

"And he's the only one I've ever given my heart to, while we're on the subject." He held up a hand, taking a step back. "Not a big deal, really. I'm just glad you told me."

"Sometimes I wonder if it's just as well things never worked out with..." It seemed like bad luck to say her name, but he shook his head to indicate. "I don't know that I'd give somebody that much power over me comfortably. Just... don't hurt him again, hm?"

"If I do?" Larry flashed a smile that was humourless, "I'll come here straight away so you can kill me with your bare hands."

"There's a good fellow." Stanley's smile was equally grim, and tightened only further when the door opened, and Chauncy walked in, oblivious.

"Oh, good, there you both are. I think I've changed my mind on the poem, and I was going to catch both of you. Have a minute?" He dropped a hand on Larry's shoulder and squeezed.

Larry's smile shifted from grim to sunny as he turned his head, looking at his husband. "Of course. We were just having a little chat about...."

"... marriage in general," answered Stanley, smile still tight, exchanging a look with Chauncy that quickly had him on the back foot, as his baby brother's eyes narrowed accusingly.

"You bloody didn't. Of course you did. Stop treating me as though I'm twelve, Stanley, or I'll change the poem to something more suitable for your age. A A Milne, perhaps." It was rare that he engaged in any real public displays, but he kissed Lawrence on the cheek. "As for me, I'll enjoy more cordial company. Come on, love, let's walk a round of the fountain and count mayflies."

"Sounds delightful," Larry answered, genuine warmth in his voice as he cast one last look at Stanley.

Chauncy linked arms with him and led him away, leaning close and murmuring, "Want to bet a fiver on when he's going to crack? It's not really anything else he's worried about but Pru's awful family, and he ought to know how important a united front is right now."

"Are they really that awful?" He let himself be guided, feeling a profound sense of relief to be out of that room, away from the accusatory tone of Stanley.

"Imagine how awful it could possibly be," he answered, voice low and amused. "And then multiply it by how awful I imagine Stanley can be when he puts his big brother hat on. Then you're on the fringes of how awful the entire Hobson clan outside of Prudence are. Stanley has reason to worry, but he's worrying about the wrong marriage."

(the present: Newcastle-Upon-Tyne)

Saturday, August 8, 2015

Larry Gowan let out a sigh, finally sinking down on the bed as he crossed his ankle over his knee, massaging the arch of his foot. That tea rose pattern on the wallpaper reminded him of a far less happy time spent under this very same roof. "It really was a lovely ceremony," he said softly, knowing his voice would carry well enough into the adjoining washroom where Chauncy was. "It makes me wish we'd done our first try here instead of Niagara Falls... those gardens... the scent of the roses was divine." He was gushing and he couldn't stop himself or that wistful smile on his face, "and your speech was wonderful. I don't know why you were so worried in the first place. You're an excellent speaker... ohhhh goodness." He groaned, "remind me in the future, though, that those boots pinch in the worst sort of way after six hours."

"I will..." Chauncy glanced out through the open doorway with a smile, toothbrush in hand. "And you'll ignore me because you love the boots, and we'll repeat this again." There was affection in his tone, however: quite unlike the last time they'd stayed here. "Besides, you could have used that as an excuse to get us away from Prudence's father. What do you think offended him more, our marriage, or our careers? We're walking advertisements for why Stanley is an inappropriate match."

"He seemed a tad warmer towards me when he thought I was that piano dusting fellow from that classic rock band." Larry shrugged. "And really, we should be walking advertisements for why Stanley is the best match possible. He did, after all, turn his back on the awful business more than twelve years ago."

There was a thick chuckle and a pause, before the answer floated back, articulated carefully through a mouthful of toothpaste. "Yes, but he still loves it. Terrible state of affairs." Another pause, another laugh, and Chauncy's head reappeared for a moment. "What's not to love?"

"I'm sure the Hobsons are more sensible. They'd prefer numbers in columns to pageantry and heroics.... it takes a special sort to love the way we do, don't you think?" His tone was light, playful as though he was trying to tease, knowing that Chauncy would catch that double meaning in his words.

Of course he caught it, grinning at himself in the mirror for a moment before tidying up and strolling out to join his husband, sitting on the edge of the bed in pyjamas and socks. No matter the time of year, it was always cool in the rooms on this side of the house. "I do hope they're happy. Stanley and Prudence, I mean. I think she deserves to be happy, after growing up with that lot. I hear her mother was nice, so at least... well, I can speak from experience about how a good mother can make up for a lot of shortfall from elsewhere."

Larry reached over, tousling Chauncy's hair, "and you turned out wonderfully. She did seem like a nice girl. Painfully shy, though. I don't think I heard her say more than twenty words the entire day. Although I suppose it was hard to when her father was bellowing about everything."

"And that dreadful neighing her sister does in place of laughter..." Chauncy feigned a horrified expression, although he had indeed found her grating. "She's free of them now, at least. The only horror she'll have to tolerate is Sebastian. Bloody dreadful child." Even that was filled with affection today, though.

"I still can't believe he scooped all of the fish out of the pond," Larry laughed, shaking his head, "but at least he wasn't completely awful when it mattered most. Thank goodness for small favours, otherwise I'm sure your brother would have taken him out to the garden and tanned his bottom, mid-ceremony or not."

"He put them back!" answered Chauncy with a laugh, quoting the excuse given. "I'm sure we could have explained the two-dozen or so belly-up koi as an avant-garde art piece."

"Until they started to bake in the sun, of course. And then there would have been the matter of the smell. All in all, though, it was a good day and I'm so happy to be here with you." He looked down at his hands, twisting his wedding band slowly before finally pulling it off his finger. Setting it aside on the table, he grabbed a bottle of lotion and starting rubbing that into his skin. "That conversation with your brother yesterday notwithstanding, of course... I could have done without that."

"What was he actually banging on about? I missed that part and I was so all over the shop with the speech..." Chauncy tucked himself neatly into bed, as he did everything, taking the time to arrange the pillows just so.

"He dislikes me. I outright asked him because I was getting the worst sort of stink-eye vibes from him since the moment we'd arrived." Larry set the lotion aside and slid the ring back on his finger before crawling beneath the covers on his side. "He doesn't trust me, and I can't find it in me to be cross with him for that when he's only trying to protect you. I hurt you once. In his mind, I'll do it again... it's only a matter of time."

"So prove him wrong, which takes no more effort, since you're doing it every day. Stanley is... he's very black and white. You're either on his - on our - team, or you're not, and sometimes it takes a long time wearing the jersey for him to realise that you've been scoring us points all game." He turned to lay on his side, reaching out and lacing his fingers in Larry's. "Lawrence, you don't need to do anything to prove him wrong, other than living our regular life. So, we'll live our lives, and he'll straighten himself out."

"He all but accused me of trying to trap you," Larry muttered, closing his eyes as he realised it wasn't the brightest idea to delve back into that subject now. "Effort or not... I just can't stand it when someone dislikes me."

"That's because you don't dislike anybody, however mean they can be. You're the very soul of a devil's advocate. And how on earth would you trap me? Through work? Our only contract at present is loose enough to allow us a veritable holiday whenever we please, right now being a case in point."

"I..." Larry shook his head, a little white lie slipping out, "I'm not sure what he meant. I didn't really ask him to clarify."

"Well, it doesn't matter. I think we both know that we're in this for the long haul, don't we? Although I've been thinking..." Chauncy rolled onto his back, lacing his hands behind his head. "And this wedding, this whole family thing, really, has only clarified it. There are a lot of children without families out there, aren't there? Think about teenagers, how many of those are in care without families, only to be turfed out roundly once they're eighteen? Maybe we've been over focusing on the idea of a baby, and should be more considering... Well. Don't you think?"

He blinked, surprised at how simplistic that solution really was. "You... that's... oh my. I hadn't really thought about that."

"Well, I've been thinking about nothing but," he answered, letting his eyes slide sideways and the corner of his mouth tugging upward. "I do have a tendency towards arbitrary decision-making, and perhaps dealing in absolutes isn't a bad thing."

"I suppose... it's... no." Gowan sat up, feeling a surge of excitement. "We could. Yes. A teenager... someone who could travel with us. We could home school, if we have to."

"Somebody who could actively choose us as much as we would choose them," he added, tugging Larry in close and dropping a kiss on his hairline. "See what I mean? It's the answer."

"It's brilliant, really. Sheer genius..." snuggling in close, Larry wrapped an arm around his husband, "and this would make sense. More sense than...anything else."

"Well, I am supposedly the sensible one, although I'd debate it at times. I'd never debate that you're the heart of us, though, Lawrence."

"If I'm the heart, then you're the soul. That's how it goes, really." Gowan smiled, kissing his cheek. "If you're sure about this... if you're really and truly sure... we'll see what we can arrange when we get back home."