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=