#jaratejar

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Tavish will admit, his castle back in his home state was nothing to sneeze at, but Jane’s castle (which had been inherited from his wizardly roommate, as he would gleefully recount) was the confusing perfect amount of gothic and...well, Soldier’s brand of all-American-goodness; crumbling stone walls and towers, red-white-and-blue coloured curtains drawn behind gated windows, tufts of dead grass surrounding discarded fridges and dyers. And instead of ravens, there were group of raccoons nestling among the appliances.

Ach, that’s right, Jane’s raccoons.

Tavish flashed a toothy grin as he passed by them, carefully juggling the bottle of scrumpy away from them just in case they got any ideas. He could see the way their beady little eyes followed him all the way to the front entrance where he knocked on the heavy wooden door.

Jane opened the in full regalia, and by full regalia Tavish means Jane’s wearing his uniform – pressed and spotless – and boots so spit-polished Tavish could see his reflection in the shiny leather. Jane didn’t have his hat, politeness maybe, but he was clean-shaven. He also had his badges on show, but upon closer inspection, none of them were war medals, but pins and clothing buttons glued onto safety pins. For some reason, a great rush of affection filled Tavish’s chest.

“Greetings, date!” Jane saluted. Yes, fully saluted, with proper stance.

Tavish’s grin widened and he shook his bottle of scrumpy as he stepped through the doorway. “Got ye a present Jane.”

“It is acceptable. You have passed the inspection.” The heels of his boots clicked smartly as he stepped aside to let Tavish in. “You may enter the premises now!”

Tavish smiled and stepped into the foyer, where it transformed from ‘ungodly amalgam of goth and American’ to something that was a bit more to Jane’s style, but slightly more cleaned up. Gun catalogues were strewn across all available surfaces, peeking in between neatly stacked boxes of take out. There were candles too, some normal ones, and some shaped like skulls. “Ach, what’s with these ones?” Tavish asked.

“Those were Merasmus’s, but he left without taking them, so they’re mine now.”

Even if those candles gave off an eerie purple glow instead of candle-lit dinner with the boyfriend, Tavish grinned, setting the bottle of scrumpy on the coffee table. “They’ve got a certain...atmosphere with them.”

Jane grinned. “I’m glad you like it, private! Now wait here while I get our patriotic dinner ready!”

Jane disappeared down another hallway. Tavish laced his fingers together and twiddled with his thumbs for a bit. He didn’t have to wait for long though; sounds of pans crashing and the fire alarm going off exploded boomed from the kitchen.

“Jane?” He called out, half-worriedly. “Everything ‘right there lad?”

“Affirmative!” Came Jane’s reply, followed by more crashing. “Negative!”

Tavish chuckled and followed the trail of smoke from the kitchen to find Jane wearing oven mitts – guess the colours – while holding out a piece of darkened and smoking coal.

No, wait, it wasn’t coal, there was a bone sticking out. It seemed to be roast ham, or whatever remained of it, sitting on an oven tray, Jane looking sullen. “This does not look like a roast.” He mumbled.

Tavish couldn’t help it - he bent over wheezing his lungs and ruined liver out, laughing until tears where coming out of his eyes. At last, he straightened up again, Jane still had the same sullen look, but now there was something like a crinkle of a smile on his face. Tavish said, “Ach, that looks like some of me own cookin’, so it looks a’right to me.”

At least Jane wasn’t frowning as much anymore, but he still replied, “But I wanted to make your first American dinner to blow out every scottish haggish and sushi that have ever been shoved into your piehole.”

Tavish didn’t have the heart to mention that he had already been living in the United States for a number of years now, and thus, had experienced most American dinners by now, of varying qualities. That didn’t stop a wide smile from overcoming his face as he patted Jane’s shoulder sympathetically.

“We met at an explosions expo, we would nae know what classy was if it bit us on the arse.”

Jane grinned at that. “You are right! We’re two red-blooded boyfriends who don’t need pansy classy dinners!”

“Then let’s some take-out from a good, American, Chinese take-away for dinner.” Tavish said, laying a sweet kiss on Jane’s cheek.

“I think my raccoons would like that too!”

“I’m not sharing wi’ them.”

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