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semiramis-audron · 4 years

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There’s British things in British Columbia

It was half past six when the medics finally packed up their equipment and the police had finished their report, made all the photos for the property damage charges and the insurance and allowed him to finally close up the place.

It hadn't been that big of a deal. He wouldn't press charges for the door or the glass. But there had been humans involved and hurt, so there was no way around calling an ambulance and the police. Doing things the human way was so… involved.

So he had to wait for them to arrive, while the bouncers held the demon who had been the reason for the fight. Really the human started it but… ah well, no use crying over spilled glass and blood. The human got fixed up and was on his save way home. As was the lady, who thankfully suffered no harm and as far as he knew also the demon. A friend picked him up and made sure of it... as he was assured…

Trevor locked the door to the pub and began putting up the chairs while the dust and wood and glass on the floor moved itself into a heap and then hovered towards the bin. He mopped the blood off the floor and sighed at his shirt, and his watch. They were cleaned a finger snap later, but the glass of the watch had cracked, the mechanism had stopped. He could fix that later, or get a new one. Maybe Richard would like to help him pick one.

He reached for the bandage tape at his ear. The area was throbbing with pain. Even more so when he realised too late that hair was stuck to the tape. A sharp breath of air through his teeth and he pulled it off all the way. The gauze pad came off dark red, the bleeding had stopped by now. He removed the hair gel before his fingertips felt for the stitched gash. The wound closed swiftly, there would be no traces left in a day or two. The pain subsided a little, nothing to bother a healer about.

He looked around the pub. All done.

Fixing the door would need to wait a bit to not seem suspicious. Then again, no one was going to even attempt a break in to begin with, so he wouldn’t lose sleep over that detail.

How late was it anyway? He checked his phone. Almost 7… And there were several messages. Huh.

All of them from Richard. Did he get wind of what had happened? No, the messages were from earlier in the night… day… Right he was in… Vancouver… they were 8 hours behind London.

Apparently he could see all the skyscrapers of the city from the meeting room.

Trevor imagined it was a great view, if one wasn't afraid of heights. There was supposed to be a meeting and the other party was late? So Richard was busying himself.

They had a bowl of maple candy with the city flag of Vancouver pressed on at the reception desk, but it was for kids visiting the tower for the lookout platform. So he wasn’t supposed to get one, sadly. But he had charmed the lady and got a sealed bag full.

He did have a childlike wonder to him sometimes, Trevor admitted.

Earlier in the day he had also been to the Capilano Suspension Bridge in the nearby forest, in also terrifying heights.

✉ You can walk through the treetops! It's all safe and up to code ;) They are very strict about their regulations. And so many trees! You would love it! ✉

Trevor couldn't help a sensible chuckle escaping. He did imply that he enjoyed it whenever Richard sent him updates and fascinating things that he encountered on his travels. The photo on the bridge was breathtaking. It was kind of Richard to take his time to make it. And yes, he would probably love it there. If he had been aware of the messages earlier, he would have asked him for more pictures. Accursed timezones…

The other party of the meeting had been a no show according to a later message, so he got a selfie of Richard in front of the McDonald's on Main Street with it's architecturally intriguing angular glass roof. He was holding a box of nuggets. The message implied he was craving nuggets, and an evil >;P smiley. Outrageous!

He was staying in Canada for another day since the meeting was now planned for the next afternoon and Jeff had made it clear that the partner had in their previous, very lucrative deals, always been reliable. So should be given some leniency especially in this important case.

Richard informed Trevor, that he was reminded of him, when he learned about the British Properties a good 700m air line from the bridge, where only people with an actual British passport used to be allowed to live. They excluded non-white and Jewish people in olden times, but were less racist now. At least something?

After that Trevor was treated to some facts about Richard’s hotel.

His balcony had wooden covered flooring that smelled like freshly cut pine trees. They must use a special varnish. He was going to try and find out about that tomorrow.

And the Lookout of the Vancouver Harbour Center was clearly visible. Not as high up as the meeting room, but equally beautiful.

According to the bartender at that Hotel bar, it was regularly used as a set for movie shoots, because Vancouver was considered the “North Hollywood” with how important it is to the film industry.

To Richard’s delight, they also served sushi. It was from the same bartender, that Richard apparently learned that the so-called California Roll wasn’t invented in California! It was invented in Vancouver, by a Japanese Chef, owning a restaurant nearby.

Trevor yawned slightly in the dark, wondering whether he should be concerned about Richard finding a more interesting bartender than him. He took off his shoes and made it to the kitchen, pointing a finger and a snap at the stove, heating some water for tea to settle down while scrolling through the messages.

He was further informed him that Richard could see the hills of Stanley Park from his Hotel room, and that all of the grey squirrels found in Stanley Park, which is by the way 10% bigger than Central Park, are descendants of eight pairs of grey squirrels that Vancouver received as a gift from New York City in 1909.

And that the Beaver Lake in the park, was ironically beaverless until just 2008.

Also, that he was again reminded of London and Trevor, because right next to the Hotel was an apartment building called London Place and because Vancouver, due to its geographical and vegetational zone, had one of the mildest climates in Canada, but more rain. So kinda like London. But more trees.

✉ So if you want me to check out any trails or trees for you tomorrow, drop me a message. <3 ✉

Right, Vancouver was basically in a rain forest.

The latest message was only a few minutes old. The light of the phone was casting eerie shadows on Trevor’s face, reflecting the message in his eyes. The dim coloured glow of the Streets of SOHO, shining through the window like moonlight through the stained glass of a church.

He hadn’t bothered about the brightness, but slowly the glare of the screen was beginning to irritate his tired eyes. He put the phone in his pocket and leaned against the counter, waiting for the water to boil, stifling another yawn, closing his eyes.

After this long night in the bustling pub, the quiet of his empty flat was a stark contrast. At first there was just the background hum of silence in his ears, then slowly the natural noises in it grew louder. The muffled sounds of the awakening streets outside became more clear and the soft pearly bubbling of the water. Finally he could hear himself breathe in the quiet of the morning, opening his eyes again, now more used to the dark.

He was looking at his clean and neat kitchen table, the polished counters and precisely closing drawers. Everything had its place in the greyish darkness. There was pristine and almost sterile order, even more so in the monochrome colours of the night.

And towards his living room, a bit more homely, that lay also vacant in the dull grey. The fireplace was empty, wood neatly stacked, the tv pitch black. Books and magazines shelved proper and no spine out of line. Unless SOMEONE took one out to leaf through it and didn't put them back properly. Or put them on the coffee table instead. Or just dropped his stuff there, even though he had a nightstand just for his stuff...

The coffee table was unburdened though. The flat was quiet, his solitude undisturbed, his privacy uninvaded and isolated from the life of human beings. He checked his watch, sighed at the shattered glass, then took out his phone again. The little circle next to Richard’s name was still green.

The tea kettle whistled and the water stopped boiling as the soft magical aura disappeared around it.

~~~~~~~~~~ 🍁 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Richard was leaning on his balcony, shirt half unbuttoned. Zooming in on some of the more extravagant buildings to get a better look. There had been some changes made in recent years by starchitects, or those that were paid as much at least. And there were still suggestions in the air, as far as he was keeping track of the business. Maybe an opportunity or two might arise from this prolonged stay yet.

“Mind if I join you?” the voice was husky and a bit tired, but very familiar and unexpected. He whirled around. “Trevor!? Of course! Sure! Hi! I mean, yes, I’d be happy.” He welcomed him with open arms, then realising the gesture might be a bit much, dropped the arms a bit and smiled. The barkeeper was still standing in the door to the balcony, one hand clutching the frame. Also barefoot, as Richard noted.

“The view is even more impressive than you described…” Trevor pointed out, not making eye contact, with either Richard, or the view. “Ah, you noticed the high quality wooden panelling of the balcony too.” this was bad. Trevor was clearly stuck and apparently too proud to admit it. “I- didn’t send you any pictures of the bathroom, would you like to see it? The tub is huge and it’s spotless. Great for relaxing.” Richard watched as one naked foot touched the wooden boards and the knuckles on the already pale hand at the frame stood out white. The helplessness would be adorable if it wasn't born out of stubbornness.

Their eyes met. “It’s fine…” Trevor said, taking a deep breath. “I’ll look at it later…” And the brown eyes motioned towards their left hand. Which was reaching out for him. For Richard, to take it, silently pleading for help.

He put his fingers around Trevor’s wrist and felt him return the gesture. It was a safe grip, reliable. He slowly led the acrophobic man onto the balcony and offered him a chair. Into which Trevor slumped with an apologetic smile. “It’s really… high up… But it IS beautiful.” Richard sat down on the other chair, the little wrought iron table between them. Staring at the man who was now staring at the view with the colour returning to his face. "Thank you for dropping by, that's a welcome change." also a bit of an awkward one. Just sitting there, all settled into the chair now. Hard to make physical contact like that. Why did he show up all of a sudden. Why was he there in the first place? He never teleported to him before. Should he ask? Should he offer him a drink? A snack? A tour of the hotel? Of the city? He was going to ask! “Canada is bloody cold! Do you want tea?” Trevor huffed, rubbing his arms and looked at Richard who had been a bit lost in thought staring at the more calmly breathing man. He nodded with a soft “Uh… uh huh.” and a snap later there were steaming cups on the table. They smelled warm, and a bit of spices that made Richard think of winter. The milk still spreading in amber clouds through the liquid. The brew was sweet, and with a dash of something foreign, that didn’t taste like a bitter British cuppa. Trevor shuddered, rubbing his now socked feet together. “And you said Vancouver was mild! That’s better, do you need more sugar?” Richard shook his head, watching the goosebumps on Trevor’s forearms go down.

“Well, it’s not exactly Summer. You never teleported to me before?” He really wanted to say something and Trevor took his sweet time to answer, this was a bit nerve wracking. The night air hummed with the murmur of the city beneath them and the wind rushing around the skyscrapers like a serpentine river. Trevor kept sipping his tea. His breath afterwards was visible in the air. “You made it sound like an interesting city to visit.” was the blasé response after a minute or two. "But it's a bit late for sightseeing now, isn't it?" Richard leaned partially over the table, trying to make sense of this sudden behaviour change. “The sights I’m seeing are good for now.” Trevor looked away and back out over the balcony, clearly uncomfortable. He took another sip of the tea.

Richard slumped back in his chair, picking his own tea up. They fell silent again. Watching the change of colours in the street and the clouds above. Richard was sure the tea was different than what Trevor was usually drinking. He enjoyed the thought of sharing in something special. Bitter at first, then sweet and with a hint of something exciting. Trevor tea. He watched the angel’s eyes observe the sky and the blinking lights below them. One might even say, he looked relaxed now. How peculiar. What was going on?

The deep voice sent a shiver down Richard’s spine as Trevor cleared his throat. “It’s unusual for you to be so quiet. Are you okay, Richard?” The verbal equivalent of having his chair pulled out from under him. "It's unusual for YOU to come to me! I didn't think Vancouver of all places would do that." he searched the man's face for a real reason. "Well, …" Trevor sighed. "...my watch broke and I thought you could help." A smile popped on Richard's face. "Oh it's probably the battery, I'll charge it. For you, free of charge." a small wink as he took Trevor's wrist again. "The… glass is broken." his smile faltered a little when he saw the raised eyebrow. "And it's an automated watch, yes, no battery." that explained why he couldn't find one! His own always remained charged through himself. "No problem! I get tons of fancy watches from business deals, there's bound to be an automatic one among those." He flinched when Trevor pulled his hand back, rubbing the wrist around the strap a little. He hadn't actually held him that tight? Maybe a small shock when he had tried to charge a non existent battery?

"I was actually thinking about getting a new one from a watchmaker… or jeweller." Trevor didn't make eye contact, his face a strange expression that Richard couldn't decipher. "I was hoping, with your impeccable style, you knew a good one and… would help me pick one you think will suit me…" still no eye contact, but his face had become more rosey and, yep, the goosebumps were back.

"I just wear them as I get them? But sure we can have a look tomorrow?" Trevor sighed, and emptied his cup. Wrong answer apparently. "It's a bit out of nowhere, I'm sorry." Richard waved his hands. "No, I understand, keeping your schedule is important to you and you need your watch for that. There's actually a Vienna watchmaker with 30 years in the business, right here in Vancouver, we can go there. I walked past his shop today, I didn't know ‘cause he has no website. His name is Fritz Irrgang which is funny cause his watches are all going right. Very interesting old guy---" He had gotten up in excitement and now hesitated and looked Trevor in the eyes again. He didn't look annoyed as expected, he was listening, with an amused, soft smile, and half lidded eyes. "--- but it's almost 2 in the morning so we… can't go now…” Richard continued slowly. “-- it would be rude to get him out of bed---" thoughts trailing off into nonsense as he made sense of what he was seeing. Trevor's eyes weren't just half lidded. They looked tired and unusually reflective, shimmering. Then the angel sniffed. "I'm fine with tomorrow, if you have time." he smiled, then rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb and sniffed again.

Oh. Oh no.

"Trevor, it's almost 10 in London. - You should be asleep." The Brit laughed quietly at what sounded like honest worry in Richard's voice, though not sneering, really. "You're absolutely right.” he replied with a more firm voice. “- we should both go to bed." he got up and vanished the cups, ignoring the view from the balcony. He squeezed Richard’s shoulder, then waved at him as he went through the sliding door and into the hotel room.

Stopping there in the dark, with his back to the air demon, toeing off his socks. Unbuttoning his Barkeeper vest, taking it off. Folding it and placing it neatly on a chair, before beginning to unbutton his dress shirt.

He tilted his head a little back to the balcony. "Are you coming or do you plan to stay there all night?"

A speaking, nightly Fata Morgana in the middle of his hotel room. Unbelievable. Richard slowly made his way into the room.

"Please close the door and turn up the thermo, it's as cold in here as out there."

Richard closed the door and stared at what amounted to an optical illusion. Watched the white shirt slide down over the other man's lightly freckled shoulders, like the casual routine it probably was. Watched him slip out of it, the light from outside enhancing the soft shadows of his spine’s curvature and shoulder blades on the fabric of his close-fitting undershirt.

This mirage however seemed, though unbelievable, to be physically there. Trevor had not left and he was doing what Richard thought he saw him doing. Unless it was a cruel trick of the light. He could maybe try to reach out for it, touch it even, if he dared.

Trevor was in the process of folding his shirt when he felt two arms wrap around his waist, a chin coming to rest on his shoulder and a chest pressing lightly against his back. The comfort that hit him when he smelled Richard's aftershave almost rolled over him like a wave. "I'll keep you warm, okay?" The angel nodded into the embrace with a shaky breath. Fingers clutching into the fabric of the shirt, while the arms lowered in defeat. "This isn't about the watch, is it?" He felt Richard’s breath at his ear, on his temple, where a few hours earlier glass had cut deep. All pain that had still been there, now suddenly gone. He shook his head slowly, quietly, leaning into the embrace, closing his eyes. Like a hot, sweet tea going down his throat and spreading warmth and courage in his stomach on a cold Canadian night.

Then he felt Richard’s nose tousling his hairline as he kissed the nape of his neck. Gentle lips. A shiver going down his spine, goosebumps flaring up, heart beating faster, but also calmer... somehow. Richard’s hands moved to his belt buckle, until Trevor’s fingers interlocked with his. The angel shook his head almost imperceptibly, one hand still clutching the shirt. “I’d like to…” Trevor whispered hesitantly “... replace some old broken things… with new ones… but gradually...”

Richard nodded, warm face against the angel’s cold shoulder, taking the shirt out of his hand. “Gradually…” he replied, folding the shirt against Trevor’s belly, one hand guided by the angel’s.

The shirt appeared neatly onto the chair, as the two men-shaped beings sank into the soft covers of the bed.

“...I’d like that…” Trevor mumbled curling his back up against Richard’s chest, pulling the demon’s arms tighter around himself. Richard buried his face in the angel’s surprisingly soft hair, breathing calmly, deeply. No gel tonight? He smelt incense and styrax but also salt and a hint of iron. “Sleep well, Trevor.” The tension in the other’s muscles broke away as he relaxed and he felt the skin noticeably heat up. The demon chuckled and kissed the angel behind the ear, before closing his eyes as well. “... thank you, Richard…”

#RichardNTrevor #AsheesRichardDickinson #Trevor Matthews #visiting the colonies #bringing tea #it's called an engagement watch you uncultured jelly bean

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