curtainfic

DAY OF A HOUSEHUSBAND

Coming home, Warrick couldn’t help smiling at the sound of Vereint’s laughter and the TV. He toed off his shoes, curling his tired toes, and padded down the short hallway to peer into the living room.

Vereint was lying on the couch with a bowl of dry cereal balanced on his stomach. He was watching an anime featuring a guy with a knife slash over his left eye, brown lensed sunglasses, and slicked back black hair. The guy was wearing a yakuza-style suit with a white apron over the top. The apron featured a cute dog face and the word “SHIBAINU” underneath.

Warrick cocked his head curiously, watching as the guy scrubbed a floor on his hands and knees while the narration offered cleaning advice that was… Warrick didn’t even know how to describe it. The guy sounded like he was headed into battle as he sorted clothes into a washing machine, and then he prepared himself a cup of herbal tea as though he was fighting a war.

“What are you watching?” he asked.

Vereint jerked and twisted around to look at Warrick with wide eyes. “You startled me.” As though he didn’t have superhearing and should have heard Warrick coming in. “It’s ‘The Way of the Househusband.’ Tatsu left the yakuza when he got married and now he lives as a househusband and has all kinds of everyday adventures.”

“So… it’s your autobiography?” Warrick joked.

Vereint stuck out his tongue briefly, then laughed and sat up to put the bowl of cereal on the coffee table. He patted the couch. “Come sit with me. I’ve missed you all day.”

Warrick happily obliged, plopping on the couch and letting Vereint curl around him. “Mmm, you’re always so warm.” He snuggled close and kissed the side of Vereint’s neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“You’re the boss. You could always just stay home with me.”

“But then how would I keep you in the manner to which you’ve become accustomed?” Warrick teased. “Plus, if we’re both staying home, which one of us would be the househusband?”

“Oh, well in that case, I guess you have to go to work everyday,” Vereint said. “So you can come home to me and I can pamper you the way you deserve.”

“You’re getting a little handsy, hm?”

“I told you I’ve been missing you,” Vereint said.

“Do you think I should get you an apron like that?”

“I didn’t know cosplay turned you on.”

“Neither did I. Those glasses would look hot on you.”

Vereint deepened his voice, “‘Sales are a battlefield. Being a househusband is no joke.'”

“I have no idea what that means,” Warrick said. He was halfway onto Vereint’s lap. He nibbled at a bit of exposed skin. “Tell me more.”

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

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Small Gods at Amazon

FOUR CALLING BIRDS

by Harper Kingsley

Vereint and Melissa were singing some song in the kitchen, their voices joining together in a hum of sound. Warrick was relaxing in his recliner, his feet lifted and his head sunk deep in the cushion.

He was so completely relaxed he didn’t think he could move if he wanted. He didn’t want to.

He yawned and closed his eyes. Warm and content, he could feel himself drifting off.

The humming of their voices in the kitchen rang through his mind. Louder and louder, reverberating and expanding, echoing until the number of voices seemed to double, triple, multiplying in exponential growth.

He swam in a lake of sound. Splashed up onto sandy shores where brightly colored birds swooped and swirled like petals on the wind.

He breathed in the crisp freshness of the air and listened to the birds sing.

Four voices. No, two.

The voices of the people he loved. Singing in his home, making it a home.

He relaxed, completely content.

He could move, but he didn’t want to.

=END=

The Way of the Househusband 01 at Amazon

THREE FRENCH HENS

by Harper Kingsley

Melissa’s school encouraged the children to experience "agricultural studies." Which meant visits to the horse farms and exotic snakes visiting the classroom. The school also encouraged parental participation, which is how Vereint found himself strolling through the playground-turned-animal wonderland with a just-as nonplussed Warrick.

"Is this a rich-people school thing?" Vereint asked low-voiced. He paused to gaze at a pair of baby goats and Warrick loitered at his side. "You look very over-dressed."

"Thank you for noticing," Warrick joked, holding his arms wide in a brief pose. "Gong Yoo!"

"Oh, shut up." Vereint stuck out his tongue. "Just because I said he was cute."

"You already had the Coffee Prince DVDs long before we watched Train to Busan."

"I was a big Yoon Eun-hye fan," Vereint excused. He couldn’t help laughing at the disbelieving look Warrick gave him. "OKay. He’s very hot too. I loved them both very much. You never forget your first loves," he said, slanting a glance at Warrick.

He’d long-since admitted to his powerful teenaged crush on the superhero hunk Blue Ice. Warrick had been suitably flattered. Vereint didn’t even feel embarrassed anymore.

"Well, I guess it’s okay to admit a crush on Gong Yoo. I mean, he’s way out of your league," Warrick teased, and dodged Vereint’s fake shove.

"No rough housing," Warrick admonished jokingly. "They might kick us out."

Vereint rolled his eyes. Considering how much Warrick donated to the school… There should be a "Warrick Reidenger Tobias" wing with plaques and everything.

"Let’s go look at some more animals," he said, taking Warrick’s arm. He brushed his fingers over Warrick’s sleeve as they walked. "You do look very good in a suit. You really had no chance to change?"

"You caught me out," Warrick said. Their heads were inclined toward each other and their voices had dropped to near whispers. "I decided not to chance out of my suit because I have plans to seduce my husband later. Don’t tell him. He’s every excitable."

"Ah. Well then, I’ll keep my admirations to myself," Verient said in a proper "Jane Austen-heroine" tone. "Though be aware… You reall look very good in a suit. Very good."

"’It’s all for you, baby,’" Warrick joked, but the love in his eyes was real.

"You make me dreadfully happy," Vereint pronounced. "I don’t know what I’ll do without you. It’ll probably be terrible."

Warrick was serious. He pulled Vereint to one side of some chicken cages. "I would never hold anything against you, because I love you. And I trust that you will do your best to hold yourself together if I’m gone. I don’t want you to have to regret anything ever. I love you. I want the best for you. And I know you’ll always be the best you you can be."

Warrick wrapped his arms around Vereint and pulled him close, the tops of their heads meeting. It felt like they were in their own world, a huddle of two.

They stood there for some timeless while, until Vereint began to worry about the time. "We don’t want to miss Melissa’s play," he said, attempting to squirm away.

Warrick held him, "Just a moment longer," so Vereint stilled and leaned against Warrick. Breathed him in. The cologne only enhancing the natural smell of him.

Vereint didn’t say so, but he tried to memorize that smell. In case it was ever gone from him.

Finally they got themselves back together and continued walking around the cages until they reached where the folding chairs had been set up in front of a large stage.

"What kind of chicken is Melissa going to be again?" Warrick asked, arranging himself in a middle seat of the first row.

Vereint hid his smile and sat beside him. "She and two others are Faverolles. All the other kids are broken up into threes too. All the different kinds of chicken on one stage. It should be a real experience."

"I hope so," Warrick said, getting out his phone and pulling a mini-tripod out of his pocket.

By the time the chairs filled up around them, Warrick had a crystal clear view of the whole stage on his phone and was ready to record.

Vereint was amused. Warrick thought he was bad at parenting, but really he was doing a good job.

Vereint relaxed in his chair and leaned his head against Warrick’s shoulder. They’d seen a few kids running around, some half-in half-out of their chicken costumes, and it was clear they had a while yet to wait.

He felt content. A growing quiet happiness at the complete normalcy of things.

They’d adopted Melissa on the whim of the moment. The complete shock on her face after she’d watched her parents die had struck him deeply, had stuck with him to the point that he’d practically begged Warrick to let them take her in.

All he’d wanted was to take that horror off her face and help her find her happiness again. He wanted to think that they’d managed it. Because he was trying his best, and Warrick was always the best.

And that’s why they were here right now, waiting for a play that involved all the kids in chicken costumes. And Warrick was completely comfortable in his three-piece suit and thousand dollar shoes and the hay strewn ground. And Vereint was happy.

=END=

Faizel 02 at Amazon

TWO TURTLEDOVES

by Harper Kingsley

turtledove: a small Old World dove with a soft purring call, noted for the apparent affection shown for its mate

"What is this?" Warrick asked, holding up Vereint’s jacket. There was what looked like a scarf attached, but he’d noticed it was lined with a plastic bag.

"That? That’s my smoking bib." Vereint was flipping busily through the TV Guide. From his faint frown, there was nothing he wanted to see.

"’Smoking bib’?" Warrick asked. "I need more explanation."

Vereint’s sigh was audible. He slouched lower on the couch, knees spreading wide as he settled himself. He stared raptly at the TV as he spoke, "You know the stuff I get from Donovan’s is strong. I don’t exhale where the people will be effected. And I get to hotbox myself. I think it’s a sartorial win."

Warrick sighed and shook the jacket in his hand. "This jacket is so ugly. We’ll visit Florian’s and I’ll have him make you some better clothes. This is a terrible rag."

Vereint turned his head to look right at him. Their gazes met and held. "What if I said it’s my favorite?"

"Then I love it because I love you," Warrick replied. "It’s very ugly, but I’m sure you somehow make it work for you."

Vereint laughed and held his arms open. "Get over here."

Warrick dropped the jacket on a chair in passing and allowed himself to sink onto the couch. He nuzzled into the comfort of Vereint’s body. "You’re always so warm."

"Said the cryokinetic," Vereint laughed.

=END=