"I'm flirting with you," huffed Santiago impatiently.
"Oh, were you?" Felix teased. "Is that what that was?"
"I would say that, yes, telling you facts about the human reproductive system would, on most planets, be considered flirting. Yes."
"You went into detail about every vaginal function, then said, and I quote, 'Isn't that kind of gross?'"
"Okay. Yeah. But I did it in a seductive and husky tone, so...."
"I thought you were growling at me."
Gareth returned with a few mugs of tea, setting them down on the coffee table and giving each of his lovers a kiss. "Is he doing the body part fact thing again?"
"What's wrong with the 'body part fact thing'?" Santiago demanded. "I'm trying to be seductive."
"That's so cute....You're so cute."
"I'm not cute..."
"Do you need us to show you how it's done?" asked Felix, his hand moving to gently rest on Santiago's thigh.
The doctor frowned deeply. "No, I'm... I can do it. Don't patronize me."
"No, no... I meant that we could seduce you."
"... Oh..."
Gareth gently kissed Santiago's neck. "We're not making fun of you, promise."
(four years ago) "I did a pregnancy test," Santiago admitted, fidgeting with the end of his shirt nervously.
Gareth all but dropped the plate of cookies he'd been carrying to the living room, stopping dead in his tracks and blinking dumbly in surprise. He was silent for a while, long enough to terrify his husband, before realizing that he probably should say something in response. "You... You did?"
"Y-Yeah, I...."
"What... What did it say?" asked Gareth, trying to stop the grin that was slowly spreading across his face. He didn't want to get too excited before he knew for sure where this was going, because getting ahead of himself could potentially lead to disappointment.
Santiago stared at his lap, swallowing the dread that was slowly making its way up from the pit of his stomach before it had the chance to get caught in his throat. He needed to know. The possibility of anger or abandonment aside, it was his baby; he needed to know, and now was as good a time as any. "It... L-look, these things aren't always accurate..."
"Oh... Did you just take one?"
"One, um... One box. Of three," he said quietly. "A-all... All positive."
"So.... You're....?"
Santiago thought that his heart was going to pound its way out of his chest. "L-look, I... I know that it's too early in our marriage to... to add onto our family, especially with... this year, and all. I-I mean, we're just getting our lives back together. We're just... just now back to normal..."
Gareth's face fell. "Do.. Do you not want to? R-Right, I understand. It would put a lot of stress on you, with your health and your body image and all. It's okay if you don't want to go through with it." It wasn't his body, after all. He wanted kids, but he would never force his love into anything, especially something this serious.
"I... What?" The doctor looked up. "No, no, I want to. I really, really want to, I don't think I've ever wanted anything more, I just thought... With what you said last week, about it being too soon..."
"No! I just, um.. I got embarrassed," explained Gareth with a soft, airy laugh. "I didn't want it to be so obvious that I... You're.... Wow, this is real."
"This... is real, yeah."
"We're gonna have a baby. We're daddies," breathed Gareth, looking at his husband's middle in reverent awe. "C-can I.... Can I touch?"
"Only if I can have a kiss," said Santiago, a flood of relief washing over him and leaving him with a feeling of weightlessness. "Merry... Merry Christmas."
"You know," said Santiago quietly. "It's... It's okay to cry."
Gareth gave a faint, unsure smile. One with no real warmth or meaning, but with the obviously intended purpose of reassuring the other that no, nothing was wrong, and that there was nothing at all to cry about. He wasn't sure what to say, so he said nothing, hoping that the halfhearted expression was enough to nip this conversation in the bud.
"Don't." Santiago shook his head. "Don't do that. I can tell you're upset."
"I'm not," Gareth insisted, though the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him.
"Yes you are. You're upset. You've been exactly one third of my reason to live for years now, I know when you're upset."
Gareth bit his lip, eyes straying to the far right corner of the room, just behind his husband's head. Still there. She's still there, staring at him intently, though her exact emotion is... hard to make out. Her gaze is piercing, but her face is entirely blank. It terrifies him.
Santiago notices this and looks over his shoulder at what he can't see, taking in only the sight of the floral-patterned wall behind him. "...What do you see?"
"I-I..." Gareth's voice fell to just above a whisper, just... just in case she was listening. "It's her again."
"Her?" The doctor's brow furrowed. "You sound like you really want to cry, so... 'That' her, I guess?"
Gareth nodded slowly. "That 'her'." His mother, looking just as distant as she did when she was alive. He was always remembering things, slowly gaining back bits and pieces of his lost past, but.... Honestly, he wished that the memory of his mother's ill frame looking upon him with horror, never wanting to be alone with him and speaking as though she were pretending not to see him, would have remained forgotten.
He'd told his husband about his unsteady relationship with his mother a few times before, though not in detail. But he really didn't have to. Santiago knew that of all the spirits that Gareth saw, no matter the type or appearance, none frightened him but that exact one. So he took it upon himself to gently lead the medium away from the living room, outside and into the greenhouse where the spirit (hopefully) wouldn't follow them.
"Is that better?" Santiago asked, gripping his husband's hand. "Can she... She won't come out here, will she?"
Gareth shook his head. "N-no, she's... She's never done that. I dunno why." He was a little afraid that she'd eventually leave the house with him, but until that happened, the greenhouse was always a safe place. He'd keep his back turned on the general direction of the house, though.
"Do you need to cry?"
"I... I don't know? Not.. Not right now, I don't think." Gareth chewed on his bottom lip, pointed teeth making tiny cuts on the skin that caused pinpricks of blood to well up and trickle down towards his chin. Santiago lovingly wiped them away with a sleeve.
"Are you having an attack now?" he asked gently, reaching up to gently rub at Gareth's cheek.
"N-not... Not this time," the other replied. "I'm okay. You're here, Dot's here... You know, the former owner's puppy that was buried under where we built this? She's always here."
"And I think that I prefer ghost dogs to corporeal dogs. Impossible for a ghost dog to knock you over."
"I wouldn't say that," teased Gareth, resting his head on Santiago's shoulder. "It might not be impossible."
"Should I be running?"
"She's a chihuahua."
"Even worse." Santiago placed a kiss to Gareth's forehead. "She... She can't hurt you anymore. I promise."
Gareth pretended not to hear that as he bent to give the ghostly pup a scratch, carefully avoiding the nasty-looking gashes and unnatural bends in some of Dot's bones (of course caused by the car that hit her). Dot whined happily, trotting along in pleased circles around Gareth's feet as he began to smile. Most of the dead, he decided, were much better to be around.
The only reply Gareth got was a vague sniffing noise and a slight shrug, both leading him to believe that the answer was ‘yes’…. for the second time this month.
He sighed and rubbed at his temples, resisting the urge to lecture, to fuss, to beg that his husband not do it again… But that wasn’t his way. Gareth was a lot of things, but he wasn’t confrontational; his way of dealing with things that worried or bothered him was to ignore them for as long as possible in the hopes that , eventually, they would go away on their own. It was better than potentially starting a fight… Fighting always made him nervous.
And, really, it wasn’t such a big issue. It hadn’t been that often, and if it weren’t for the fact that Gareth hated seeing Noah in such a state, he wouldn’t be so worried. If it weren’t for the fact that he only drank this much when he wasn’t feeling well. He never stayed out late (or went out at all), and he was never violent, or even particularly hostile or aggressive. It was just the aching fear of what caused him to do it that all but made Gareth sick.
He reached out to lightly, gently touch Noah’s back, as if he were petting a baby deer instead of getting the attention of a grown man. “Hey, let’s… Let’s go sit down, okay?”
No response, save for a bit of sniffling. The doctor was usually a sad drunk… A miserable drunk. After enough liquor, he would disintegrate into a sobbing, trembling mess of genuine pain and anguish that inevitably would spend the rest of the evening curled up on the nearest horizontal surface. Which, fortunately, was exactly what Gareth was planning to let him do as he led his inconsolable love to the couch.
"I’m going to get you a water," he said, earning a whine of protest from Noah as the other man clung to his shirt. "No?"
"Nnno… No, please."
"You need some water, though. You’re drunk, baby; you’ll dehydrate."
Noah shook his head slowly, curling into Gareth’s side. “No? No, no no, I’m not… Doctor. Not, a doctor.”
"You’re not a doctor?" teased Gareth.
That seemed to make it worse, visibly upsetting the other as he buried his face in his husband’s shirt with a shaky sob.
Gareth apologetically stroked his hair. “Shhh, it’s okay… I’ll stay here with you a little longer.”
“‘m not… ‘m notta doctor,” Noah mumbled softly, before collapsing into sobs again.
"What? No… Yes you are. You’re still a doctor, okay? And I’m proud of you."
A whine of protest. “No.”
"That’s true. I love you, and I’m so proud of you… I mean that.” Gareth very slowly moved to pick him up, making very sure that the change in altitude wouldn’t make the other sick. So far, neither Noah or the kids had ever thrown up on him…. and given his phobia, he really would rather not find out what his reaction would be if that changed.
"You’re so important," Gareth added, with a kiss to his husband’s forehead. "And so smart, and so loved… ” The desperate sadness in Noah’s eyes was almost too much. “A-and you know, you can always talk to me, instead of…” Hurting yourself, he wanted to say. “…Instead of drinking. I want to help you…”
But he was already asleep. Gareth sighed deeply. It wasn’t the first time they’d had a conversation like this, and, as he never remembered his drunk actions when sober, it wouldn’t be the last. At least this way, he could let himself think that Gareth still didn’t know.
Looks: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10Personality: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10Attraction: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10Would they date them: yes | noFavorite thing about them: His gentleness. He's always so sweet and patient, especially with little ones. It makes me feel safe.Least favorite thing about them: I love everything about him. Except... Okay, maybe... Maybe the fact that I sometimes worry that he's not being entirely honest with me. Maybe.... Maybe half the things he says that he's fine with are intolerable to him, and he's too kind and gentle to say anything. I worry that I bore him, or that I'm unattractive to him, and he won't say anything, and it's... It's irritating. Frustrating. N.... Nerve-wracking, worrying. Troubling in general.
