He Was Home

"Marvelous collection, as always, boy! Tip top!"

"Many thanks, your grace," the tailor said, bowing to Lord Pattimond of Elderstock, who motioned to this piece or that, which his servants quickly gathered up for him.

Meanwhile, Alabaster busied himself with random odds and ends. Though, with how he shifted the silk fans around for the umpteenth time, it was clearly all a ruse. Those sharp, crystal eyes crawled around the room on the lookout for none other than the nobleman's son, the degenerate Lord Price.

Against Lord Pattimond, himself, the tailor help no grudge. The plump, jolly, old statesman had managed to single-handedly keep his business afloat on more than one occasion. Simon would always be grateful for his patronage. His offspring, however, for obvious reasons, was no longer welcome at the shop no matter how many Asters he waved around.

It was hard to bar a nobleman from anywhere they wanted to go. Their status made them immune to the restrictions and rules shackling the working class, after all. But, Simon was confident with Alabaster's protection, that the cold-hearted bastard would never dare to darken The Ode to Maria's door ever again.

Although, that thought should have been more concerning, the gentleman imagined. It would have raised shrill alarm bells in his mind, once upon a time. Since when did the human give a vampire permission to become his peace of mind? Green eyes shifted just in time to see Alabaster appear with a glass of wine for their golden patron and a shimmering smile.

"Here's another glass of our exquisite D'Arc Larosa. To your health, my lord."

"Oh, yes, quite! Mr. Hart, I do rather like your new shop assistant! He knows how to please! Well, bottoms up, dear lads, bottoms up!"

Simon and Alabaster exchanged grins. The tailor's companion was a quick study. There was no easier way to grease the wheels of commerce than with a glass of red wine and some well placed flattery. If there was ever any doubt, by the end of the night their combined efforts had yielded visibly spectacular results.

"I think that'll do it for this evening, fellows!" Lord Pattimond expounded with a hiccup and a wobble as he jabbed a thumb at his mountain of purchases, "Here's what I owe you!"

Except it wasn't. It was so much more. Enough to cause Simon's eyebrows to shoot up toward his hairline.

"T-Thank you, your lordship! This is more than generous!"

"Oh, posh, dear boy! Think nothing of it! I'm sure that you'll put it to good use! Now, the night is short. Time for me to depart. Have a good evening, you two!"

"Yes and a good evening to you, as well, your lordship."

Simon and Alabaster bowed to the portly gentleman as he left. Though, the tailor fought to keep the smirk from his face. His companion outranked the other man by miles in the world of pomp and circumstance. Certainly enough to warrant a bow from Lord Pattimond upon his departure, not the only way around; oh, if only he knew.

Once the last servant was out, the door was bolted by the brunette, who couldn't have been more ready for the end of the day. Simon leaned against the door, sighing in relief, before cracking an eye open as a glass of wine was offered.

"That's expensive, you know."

"I imagined, if you kept this bottle in your shop to woo the nobility of Lenore. However, you worked hard today. Doesn't that warrant a reward, my dearest?"

Alabaster swirled the crimson around in its vessel with a coy smile, before offering it again. The tailor sighed, before claiming it. The wine was already in a glass; the rest of the bottle would be ruined if it was added back in.

Besides, with the obscene tip he received from his most valuable customer, Simon could easily buy ten bottles of D'Arc Larosa and still have enough left over for ten spools of thread and a bolt of fabric, if he found himself inclined. They clinked their goblets together at last, before taking a sip of the succulent wine; perhaps it was time to indulge.

That train of thought is what lead them upstairs to Simon's dining nook, where they feasted on Fairydale cheese and pumpernickel bread. It was hardly a meal fit for royalty, but the vampire seemed to like it well enough. Especially with the now drained bottle of wine resting between them that hadn't stood a chance.

"The Festival of Light is coming up in three days," Simon casually remarked, as he poured the vampire the last of the wine.

"Oh?"

"It celebrates the sunrise on the brightest day of the year. And I would ask you to accompany me."

Alabaster's eyes widened with surprise, before shock melted into delight; the noble who had taken so much time to wiggle into the gentleman's heart would never tire of Simon taking the initiative.

"My dear Mr. Hart. Are you asking me on a date?"

"Perhaps. If you have no prior engagements."

"By that, do you mean no other romantic entanglements? What ever would you say if I did?"

Emerald eyes narrowed jealously, sending a shiver down the vampire's spine.

"I would tell you to march your derriere right back to the castle and explain to whatever tart who propositioned you that Alabaster Stone is a kept man."

"Kept am I?" he muttered, eyes glittering with amusement, "That's the first I've heard of it."

"Well, consider yourself informed. Are you coming to the festival with me or not?"

The vampire's hand slowly glided across the table to take one of the Simon's in his own; his thumb caressed at the top, smoothing any ruffled feathers his paramour had while thinking of some imaginary stumbling block in the way of their love; though, Alabaster would have been lying if he said that the other man's jealous wasn't hopelessly endearing.

"Of course, Simon. I would be delighted to accompany the most beautiful man in town."

The tailor shifted his eyes away, coughing into a handkerchief. Cherry-red cheeks were laid siege to, peppered in kisses from a man who just couldn't seem to resist.

"You're adorable when you're like this, my dearest."

"Oh, do shut up."

In spite of his grousing, the tailor never let go of the noble's hand. In fact, he held onto it for hours, as they spoke in hushed tones. The wine, the conversation, the hand handing, the modest dinner shared after a busy day; it was all such a simple thing. But, it somehow had brought them even closer together.

However, Simon wasn't satisfied as he walked the other man to the door at the end of the night. Perhaps it was greed, but the tailor of Lenore had designs on Alabaster Stone that left him longing for more. He was filled with cravings he had never dared to entertain.

"I had a lovely evening, my dear tailor. Would it be too forward of me to ask for a goodnight kiss?"

That did it. Those beautifully blue eyes shimmered with all of the tenderness in the world. That's when Simon decided that if there was ever a time to risk putting a run in the fabric of their bond, it was now.

'Nothing ventured,' Simon thought with a shuddering breath, 'nothing gained.'

"Instead of kissing you goodbye, I was thinking that you would.. like to stay here this evening."

Alabaster's froze with his hand on the doorknob. The vampire slowly turned to stare into his beloved's eyes, his own looming large with shock.

"Stay.. Here? Simon! Are you inferring that I.. That we-?"

"N-nothing like that!" Simon expounded as panic set in, "It's just a long walk back to the castle is all! It's pitch black out there and I, well.."

The tailor couldn't help, but wince. Why was asking for what he wanted so exhaustively hard?

"I was hoping.. that you would accept my invitation to share a bed tonight. N-not for anything carnal, mind you! It's just.. frightfully cold this evening."

Slowly smiling, the noble took Simon's hands in his own. The look in his eyes was understanding. As if he knew everything Simon wanted to say; everything he needed and more.

"Of course. I would be happy to keep you warm, my love."

At first, the tailor waxed suspicious. Had it always been that easy? Or perhaps, the crux of the matter was that the gentleman had complicated it, as Simon Hart was known to do. Or maybe, just maybe, this was only easy because it was HIM.

The mortal guided his guest upstairs, leading him down a short hallway to his modest quarters. It was small, cramped and absolutely shabby in comparison to the grand chambers that Alabaster had been given to dwell in during his stay at the castle. It raised the hairs on the back of Simon's neck, the lingering suspicion that his living situation was disgusting to his beloved.

The peeling wallpaper, the second hand furniture, the small bed-! Surely, the nobleman would realize that it was beneath him to stay here! Why had he even suggested it!? Did he not even have the commonsense to-!

Cutting through his catastrophizing was the rustling sound of a coat being shimmied out of. The tailor's jaw dropped as the garment almost hit the floor, before being scooped up by his dutiful hands. He set the grinning man with a glare befitting a schoolmaster's ire toward a disruptive student.

"One does not simply dump their high priced frock on the floor, Lord Stone."

"Oh? Not even for a good cause?"

"What good could possibly come from wrinkling this fine fabric?!"

"It gave you something else to worry about, didn't it?"

Simon opened his mouth, only to snap it shut in reflection. Before Alabaster knew it, he was smacked on the shoulder, causing him to snicker. The student had taught the teacher something that day; there was no point in overthinking this. Alabaster wanted to be near his dearest and was willing to accept the good with the bad. Even if that meant withstanding the horrors of Simon Hart's peeling wallpaper; love conquered all.

Once both men had stripped down to their long nightshirts, Simon let Alabaster choose his spot, before crawling in after him. It took some wiggling and negotiation to get comfortable on the modest mattress, but by the time they had pulled up the covers and drew each other close, a peace fell over them; a bliss that was hard to describe.

Simon nuzzled in with a sigh, listening to the steady sound of the vampire's heartbeat. The human realized that he hadn't prepared himself for this moment. It was more transformative than he thought it would be: Life altering. Because for the first time in years, he was safe. In those arms, he was home.