10001 Nightmares Party

[Fic] count your horses (The Attic - A. M. Burrage)

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On his first meeting with his future husband, Stanley Forbes adjusted his tie one last time, pulling his hat off and holding it to his chest as he stepped into the upscale establishment picked as a suitable meeting place by the match maker and his intended's family. Forbes had never been here before; nevertheless, the softly lit hallway and the furninute was a familiar sight, and he took comfort in it.

It was not that he was nervous, precisely. In truth, he had exhanged a total of six letters with his fiancé so far—a term he felt was appropriate, despite the fact that it would not be finagled unless this meeting went well. Everything he'd learned of Derek Wilson so far had only made him quite certain it would be so, and as such it was not nerves, precisely, that stayed his body when the server lead him to the room.

His hand clenched on the hat, and he ducked his head as he stepped into the room.

Forbes gaze swiftly spun over the room, and the people within. He recognized the match maker, of course, and Telford was an old chap of his, a familiar face to steady himself with before his gaze fell upon the only one who could be Derek Wilson. A perfect match for the painting he had been sent, a self-portrait by young Derek himself, and yet simunlatinsly a vision much more divine, and Forbes would for a moment not breathe.

Then Derek smiled, and Forbes stumbled forth, drawn to it like a moth to a flame. He bowed his head, greeted, “I am Stanley Forbes. It is a pleasure to finally meet you face to face.”

“Likewise, old thing,” Derek said, rising and holding out his hand, and Forbes took it with his heart beating a mile a minute. He recalled the latest letter Derek had sent him, how Derek had bemoaned his worry about exaggerating his appearance in the painting, and Forbes rather thought he should have, instead, sent a warning. For Forbes could not look away; so enchanted was he, chest squeezing tight as their hands lingered, holding on for longer than was appropriate.

It was, in the end, Telford that coughed loudly and broke the spell, and Forbes felt an uncharacteristic resentment of it, the way Derek's shoulders drew up somewhat and he let go of Forbes' hand with a slight laugh, a pretty blush staining the top of his cheeks.

Once they both sat, Forbes could not help angling his body toward Derek's, and he listened only with half-an-ear to what the match maker was saying. Truthfully, even that took all the self-control he had, all the accumulated self-disciple he possessed, for he ached for nothing more than to take Derek into his arms and—dance, maybe. Kiss, certainly. Simply embrace, even. He just ached for closeness, for the intimacy of

It was possible, he was forced to acknowledge, that the letters had been sufficient in nurturing his feelings for Derek far beyond what he had expected.

“What do you think, Mr. Forbes?” the match maker asked, and Forbes took an embarrassingly long time to look at her, his head slowly tilting. He heard Derek give a huff of laughter, a small amused, delighted sound, and he mourned that he missed as he gazed silently at the match maker, entirely ignorant of she wanted.

“A spring wedding, Mr. Forbes?” she asked, her expression tightening somewhat—like she thought he might back out.

“It is summer,” Forbes pointed out, and it wasn't even late summer, at that.

“Spring weddings are very beautiful,” the match maker said, and Forbes' lips thinned as he pressed them together.

“Whatever Derek wishes, then,” he decided at last, and looked back toward Derek. Derek was looking at the floor with a small, beautiful smile, and Forbes' heart tripped in his chest, his hands clenching in his lap. He hurriedly picked up the cup of tea offered to him, sipping at the lukewarm liquid as he attempted to convince his heart to slow down it's rapid pace, but he could achieve no such miracle.

“An autumn wedding would be beautiful, too,” stated Derek, and Forbes smiled, placing the teacup back on the table.

The match maker looked between, then finally nodded. “We shall have much to do, then,” she said, “If everything is to be ready in time.” It sounded an ominous statement, as if meant to dissuade them, and yet Forbes only thought that perhaps planning the wedding would mean spending more time with Derek—something he'd found himself thinking of more and more as the months and weeks and days had passed. He mourned the fact that they lived hours of a train-ride from each other. Perhaps, he thought, he should look into good, affordable hotels in the vicinity of Derek.

They were to be married, after all. They should spend as much time together as they could, get to know one another; Forbes glanced at Derek and bent his head in abesiance, agreeing with Derek's desire of a small wedding. The match maker was nodding and Telford was somewhat frowning, doubtlessly worrying about the money, and Forbes found himself asking, “Would you like to have dinner with me, this eve?”

Derek froze, and looked at Forbes with wide eyes. He gulped—it was plainly visible, and something in Forbes fluttered at the thought that he could bring out such a clear reaction in Derek, that he could draw out the way Derek licked his lips, ducked his head, the way the tips of his earlobes grew darker.

Forbes had not realized that ears could be attractive.

A clear oversight on his part, he thought, swallowing the rest of the tea in one large gulp, smacking his lips and leaning back in his chair when he was done. He did not withdraw his invitation, merely gazed at Derek in waiting, and at last Derek drew in a gigantic breath and turned his head toward Telford. He parted his lips, but Telford was faster; “Yes, yes, of course we'll go.” And then Telford grinned, “I've been meaning to get together with Forbes, anyway. This is a good time as any, old boy,” he said to Forbes, and Forbes nodded in agreement.

A slight disappointment curled in him, that he would not be alone with Derek, but of course he understood. They were to be married, but that only made the company of others a greater necessity.

“It is good to see you again,” Forbes told Telford, and was waved away. Forbes took no trouble with it, returning to smiling at Derek like the smitten fool he truly was. Derek's reaction, a blushing smile of his own, only made Forbes' inability to look away from him worse.

The match maker cleared her throat, gazing at them harshly over the rim of her round glasses, and Forbes straightened his back, some degree of bashfulness at his own obviousness filling him. He was not ashamed, of course. Derek was his fiancé, the person he was to spend the rest of his life with; but still, there was a certain kind of awkwardness at the knowledge that his emotions must really be painfully obvious to others. Even Telford winked at him, when Forbes' gaze drifted over him, and Forbes played at tipping an imaginary hat in response.

After all of the official things had been spoken about, there was a moment of silence. The sound of the flickering candlelight filled Forbes's ears, and he exhaled in a slow rhythm, his posture spreading out somewhat on his seat. “Well,” the match maker said at last, breaking the silent like thunder, “I see you have things well in hand,” she told Telford, standing and bustling about, her notebook crammed full of loose paper, the tips of her fingers stained with ink, “I shall get going then. Have a good eve, gentleman,” she said, and vanished before anybody could get a word in else wise.

Not that, particularly, Forbes wanted to protest her absence.

“A walk outside?” Derek asked, rising and turning, holding out his hand for Forbes, and of Cours Forbes took; he could not help but hold too long this time, either, neither of them letting go even when Forbes stood upon his own feet. Derek looked up at him, not particularly shorter than him but slighter in build, and Forbes ached to hold him close, listen to his heartbeat, stare into his beautiful eyes from no distance at all.

It was, he thought, of great help that Telford was present, for otherwise who knew what he should do to Derek.

The park was some distance from the establishment, but the walk there was pleasant, still. Forbes and Derek did not touch, but they were close enough that he could feel the heat of Derek's presence, could taste his closeness at the back of his tongue, a certain weight to he air around them that spoke of unvoiced promises, of vows unspoken.

The moon was hardly visible behind heavy clouds, the streetlamps casting yellow light over the ground, and they walked slowly among the hustle and bustle of the city, Telford staying a few steps behind them.

“Are you staying long?” Derek asked, tilting his head and glancing at Forbes out of the corner of his eyes, wetting his lips with a quick motion that Forbes nonetheless could not help but follow.

“A few days,” Forbes answered, ducking beneath the branch of a tree as they walked into the park, the wrought iron gates open. Derek looked a vision of divinity when he walked under a streetlamp, his hair somewhat disheveled, his eyelashes long and casting shadows over his pretty, pink cheeks. The early summer air was not precisely warm at such a late hour, evening having fallen, but it was pleasant enough to not require scarves, to welcome the opening of a few buttons at his throat.

He thought Derek was looking.

Forbes was looking far too closely at Derek.

They stopped, some ways in the park. “I don't mean to make you uncomfortable,” Derek suddenly rushed out, rocking on his heels and looking straight into Forbes' eyes, Forbes heart skipping a beat. “I know you're not… that is to say, I know very well that this is an—”

“I want you,” Forbes said, unable to contain the words. He had an awful suspicion of what Derek meant to say, and he did not wish to hear. He wished, too, for there to be not doubt, for Derek to harbor no fears; “I thought so before we met, and I am only more certain now. I look very much forwards to marrying you, Derek,” he said, and smiled.

Derek's lips parted, and he breathed in heavily. “I–” Derek began, and then shook his head, laughing softly, his eyes glittering in the faint light of a distant streetlamp. “Oh, you know I just can't help myself when I'm with you. I thought the letters made me foolish enough, and yet now you're here and I can hardly–” He stopped once more, brushing a hand over his lips, eyes wide. “I want to marry you,” he said, and Forbes' heart beat so quickly in his chest it made him dizzy.

“Then I think we're of agreement,” Forbes offered softly, his eyes crinkling with his smile. He held out his arm, and Derek grinned when he tangled his own around it, and so they continued their walk in the eve, Telford dutifully following a few steps behind. They spoke of things, murmured sentences that didn't travel far beyond them, and once they had walked through the whole park, they stumbled back out onto the street.

Forbes brushed a finger over Derek's cheek, and Derek shivered, eyes dilating, his lips parting. “I'll see you soon, lad,” Forbes said, smiling, heart thumping fiercely.

Derek grinned. “I'll hold you to that, old chap,” he said, his words curling through the air like a siren's song, and Forbes was incapable of resisting. He pressed a kiss to the back of Derek's hand, touch lingering, feeling the quick pulse of Derek's heartbeat under the skin, and he smiled at Derek when he stepped away.

He looked back, of course, while walking away.

How could he do anything else?

They'd see each other again soon, he thought, and smiled up at the night sky.

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#Fandom: The Attic #Post Type: Fic #Rating: Teen #Status: Complete #Tag: AU #WC: 1000-5000