with another trip around the sun successfully completed, ken has earned a few days free of his senate chamber cage — to celebrate, and be celebrated, or risk the ire of the storm cloud he lives with. setting aside any ridiculous notions of surprise parties, or drunken gatherings (lord, imagine — cone hats and birthday candles, an off-key choir trumpeting through whatever the romans considered a birthday song, while ken sat there waiting for everyone to take a bite of his pre-poisoned cake) teddy makes his arrangements very selfishly.
"we're going for a drive," and he slides an envelope across the kitchen table, "we'll be back before the senate implodes."
and he does mean that. all his best and kindest intentions start and stop at that string of words — he'll do his level best to bring ken home by a deadline, before anyone can start to miss him, but not before they've had a chance to make the best of laguna beach and its glowing waters; not before they've had a chance to camp outside and be entirely alone. the envelope contains his schemes: a folded map, a card, a set of car keys.
"no-one else will be going, just you and me, so we'll have time to make a few personal stops," his hand slides across the kitchen table, too; palm open and up, fingers just within reach of ken's and an indulgent, hopeful smile playing about his face all the while, "i'm not sorry at all for keeping you all to myself. happy birthday."
a good day always started with a well crafted bargain. he stifles a yawn, all tousled hair and half-lidded eyes, and listens. then, he considers the three agents of this scheme by prodding his finger into the envelope, ducking his head some, and stealing a glance inside. a paper map, a card, and a set of what he recognised to be car keys. the corner of his mouth twitches. amused, that sound in his throat that was equal parts a scoff and a chuckle. ❛ oh, what promises. ❜
the centurion, who was not dressed to address the senate but rather to address the first cup of morning coffee in front of him, pinches the paper back, watching as its contents spilled out over the counter. once his hands are braced against the counter, he looks up— looks up at teddy, his brows bent as if all the seriousness he was capable of regarding the senate was clustered into his brows. his eyes, wide and attentive, hopeful with the purse of his mouth. he was waiting for an answer. he was holding his pulse as one would hold their breath.
he felt the urge to laugh again. how ridiculous. he picked up the card, saw it back and forth, and set it down, shaking his head. hair in his eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. when was the last time he took a day off? holiday. strange word. just you and me, less strange.
❛ ah, well. i had plans to poison the senate, but you’ve thrown a wrench into things. don’t suppose i’m allowed counter-arguments? ❜ he jingles the car keys at teddy, before his hand falls into teddy’s, and he hangs his head with a smile. when he looks up—
a truck roars by his window. cars. when was the last time he’d been in a car and not on a giant eagle? kenneth leans forward, sees the scenery go by fast. the breeze, it’s in his hair and against the flush of his cheeks. was teddy doing this? he looks over to the driver, leans back into the door and kicks his legs up onto his lap. ❛ do i even want to ask how you found out the date? ah forget that, i didn’t know you could drive. ❜
