Work Text:
It was not going to be an easy day, David thought as they read the irtinery and absentmindedly sipped their morning slurry. Between the Opening ceremony followed by a small breakfast buffet, lunch, tea, dinner, and the midnight snacks, not to mention keeping all the conference rooms stocked throughout the day, there wouldn't be much time for relaxation.
And Bathin would be busy handling the peace talks and hopefully prevent an intergalactic war, which was of similar importance, but left David without the bursts of adoration they'd come to rely on during their marriage.
At least they could spend the morning together. They'd ignored the oversized dining table in the oversized dining room of their oversized hotel suite, in favor of having breakfast in bed. Or David was having breakfast in bed, while Bathin went through his extensive morning routine, only stopping to steal a kiss or two, or ask for David’s opinion on outfit options.They’d managed to get all the way to hairstyling, when the Imogen console on the bedside table beeped and unfolded a screen.
"You have one new call request from Trexyl Gystman," Imogen said.
"Play please" David said and immediately regretted it as 'Soothing sounds of Nature #12' was replaced by a shouting voice that no one in the history of the universe would have classified as soothing.
"David! David, I need help. It's nothing urgent, no one is on fire this time, but if you have a minute I would really appreciate it. Waiting on the line. Waiting on the line for my buddy David. To pick up their phoooooo-" The transmission cut off with another beep.
"End of useful part of message."
"Is he still on the line?" David asked.
"Yes," Imogen answered. "He is very persistent. And annoying."
"It sounds dire," Bathin said from his place at the vanity.
"It's not dire if no one's on fire," David said, and made a quick note of that neat little rhyme in his inspirational journal. "But it will bother me if I don't check in. Can you stall the opening ceremony just a little bit?" Bathin finished perfecting his hair, walked back over to the bed and handed David two pairs of earrings.
"Oh I most certainly can manage that. I'll just tell the long version of my opening heroic anecdote. It's more inspiring anyway. Although… in the spirit of the day of negotiations, I'll need something in return."
"What did you have in mind?" David asked as they held up the earrings to Bathin's face and considered the overall effect.
"Once this exhausting day is over, I want a session with my favorite artist."
"I didn't bring any of my materials."
"Don't worry about that," Bathin said, leaning in. "The hotel gift shop sells body paint." As Bathin pulled away from the deep kiss that followed, he kept eye contact and deliberately licked the residential slime off his upper lip.
A tried and true maneuver, that any other day would have worked, but today David handed Bathin the chandelier earrings. "If you don't leave right now we'll both be late."
They watched with no small amount of regret as Bathin sauntered out of the room, and got dressed
And they remembered to lower the volume before finally answering the call.
Trexel's face filled the screen, way to close to the camera, as always, and David quickly zoomed back.
If Trexel noticed that David could access his device remotely he hadn't said anything yet.
"David! Finally, I was starting to get worried the old ball and chain was keeping you too busy. Marriage is a cage David, I've always said so."
"You certainly said so at the wedding.”
Luckily the intimate gathering of Bathin’s 200 closest friends had taken Trexel’s best-man-by-default speech as humorous.
"I actually do have work to do, what is this about?"
"Now is this real work or galactonian royalty work? Because if you're just waving hands at people, they will wait for you."
"Real work. I have to oversee the catering for people from twenty different planets so the peace conference doesn't turn into an allergic shock conference."
"Oh. Oh, that does sound important. You know what, I can wait until friday. It's fine."
David considered for a moment, but knew that they wouldn't be able to completely focus without a little bit of context.
"I have a few minutes. Just tell me what the problem is."
"I am stuck, David. Stumped, frozen, crushed under the weight of my own inadequacies.”
"Trexel, take a deep breath. What's the actual problem?"
"It's the meet cute! It just doesn't work."
"Walk me through it."
"Classic scenario. Boy goes to bar. Boy sees small sentient galaxy across the room. Boy and small sentient galaxy fall madly in love, but they are from wildly different walks of life! Their families don't approve! They hop on a passing asteroid and search their fortune in the far flung reaches of space. But I don't buy what the love is selling. Maybe… maybe love is a lie anyway. Maybe writing a five hour musical extravaganza with a love story as the backbone was a mistake. Maybe I do not believe in love after all."
David didn’t need the little flashing icon in the video feed to recognize a classic Geistman spiral.
"How is the broom?" they asked with a carefully neutral tone. But obviously not careful enough.
Trexel focused back on the camera with suspicion.
"Why would you even ask me that? Did he say something to you?"
"No." Because it was a broom. "Just a hunch."
"I thought things were going great, actually. We moved in together, the fish finally moved out, we've even looked at some space minivans, and I have been thinking about. You know. Settling down for good? It's not going to get any better than this, and I don't want it to! But you were at the premier. You saw the way people acted at the afterparty. He's not going to settle for a two-trick has been! He could go and be happy with anyone in that room!"
That was a surprisingly astute assessment of the intergalactic creative high society.
They had embraced Trexel as a 'refreshing' ( Twin Quasar Bi-Weekly Cultural Compendium ) and 'unpredictable' ( The Sun ) force with frankly alarmingly open arms, and his first two plays had been major successes. Theater people were weird.
"Right,” David said. “So it sounds to me like you're anxious about your new play because you've set it as a milestone that you need to reach in order to take the next step in your relationship."
"That about sums it up, yes," Trexel admitted.
"It also sounds to me like something you should talk about with your therapist."
"I will! But they are no help with creative stuff, David. I need the input of an artist!"
"Okay. Okay,fine. The first thing you need to do is to spice up the meet cute. Why do these two even fall in love, hmm? Love at first sight is all well and good, but them just seeing each other in a bar is not very dramatic, or cute."
Trexel's eyes widened, and David knew their creative spark had just hit a crucial spot in the fireworks factory.
"You are absolutely right! If the meet cute isn't cute, you just have a meet! That's half a meeting."
"And meetings are notoriously boring and should be avoided at all costs. Speaking of which-"
"Right, you have to go to work and I have to go create!"
"Best of luck."
Trexel didn't respond for a moment, and when he did it was at a significantly lower volume, almost approaching an indoor voice.
"But we'll still have the regular call on friday, right?"
"Yes, I have it physically written in my actual calendar."
"Great, I'll see you then."
David waved goodbye, but Trexel still made no move to end the call.
Finally he moved in even closer to the camera and spoke quickly.
"I value your input and treasure our friendship. Okay, bye now!"
And with that the feed cut off. David idled for a moment and read along as Trexel filled a fresh document with inciting incidents to throw at an unsuspecting pair of young lovers.
The little notes would be horribly transformed beyond recognition by Friday, but David thought 'paper umbrella avalanche' had potential.
They turned the monitor off, grabbed their itinerary, and got ready to face another day of hard work, difficult challenges, and being loved and appreciated.