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The night was warm and yet there was a chill in the air as Oswald walked through the graveyard, causing him to shiver. His tailcoat wasn’t quite thick enough, but he was lucky to have James there with him to wrap a comforting, and warm, arm around him. Oswald partially leaned on his cane and partially on James for support as they made it up the hill to visit his mother’s grave. The headstone was a gorgeous marble, but it was adorned with so many lilies from Oswald’s near daily visits that the only visible part of the stone was her name, “Gertrud Kapelput Van Dahl’ written in gold lettering. The lilies from yesterday were still looking healthy, contrasting with the others in various stages of decomposition. Some may consider it ugly or lazy, but Oswald thought leaving the flowers to die and return to the earth was much more honorable. His mother had thought so too, which is why she almost never emptied a flower vase, she would keep refilling them instead.
James set their picnic basket on the ground and kissed Oswald’s temple. “I’m going to visit father for a moment, love.”
“Take your time, darling, I’ll join you after I speak with my mother.”
They gave each other’s hand a squeeze and then James walked down another row of graves. Oswald could still see him over his shoulder, and so he gave a small smile and a wave. Then he turned his attention back to Gertrud, he put his hand on her stone.
“Good evening mother, I hope you’re still doing well in that better place. Father and I miss you dearly, but of course you already know that.” He started to rub his hand back and forth over the granite. “I do want to ask you something though…I wish that you would give me and James your blessing. Don’t fret, there’s no wedding or engagement or anything, but…we have been courting for some time, and as we continue I want to know that you approve.”
He was quiet for a moment, just listening to the wind as it rustled through the trees. He got a bit of a chill and shivered. It could be the cold air, or perhaps an unsatisfied spirit.
“Mother please, you’re not still upset about the flowers are you? I gave him one of yours, and it was for his father! Besides, we wouldn’t have met if I hadn’t offered him a lily, so you should be thankful I took one of yours. You helped lead me to a wonderful man who makes me happy.”
The gust seemed to calm down, letting the leaves settle back on the ground. He wasn’t sure if it was Gertrud’s acceptance, or merely her tolerance. Oswald sighed and patted her stone once more. “Give him a chance is all, perhaps you’ll change your mind over dinner.”
Then he took a step back and looked over to see James kneeling at his father’s grave. Oswald’s heart ached as he remembered their first meeting several months ago. It’d been raining and he was visiting his mother’s grave at the same time James was visiting his father. Oswald had spotted the young man through the drizzle, and saw that he had nothing to adorn the headstone with, so out of the kindness of his heart, Oswald had taken a lily from Gertrude’s grave and made his way over to the handsome stranger. Oh he remembered being so nervous, but James had been so sweet in return. They gathered under Oswald’s umbrella and bonded over the loss of a parent, sharing their current grief and their past joy.
On their first meeting they had cried in front of each other, allowing themselves to feel and be vulnerable with another person. It was an unexpected intimacy, but one that struck deep in their hearts. Oswald offered James a ride home and the conversation continued all the way to his door, albeit their tone had become more light-hearted, talking about food and hobbies instead of death and wistfulness. It had been clear neither wanted the night to end, but that would have been rather improper so they regretfully had to bid each other goodnight.
Oswald would never forget that first goodbye, he had held his hand out for a respectful shake, and while James had taken it, he also leaned in to kiss Oswald’s cheek. The action caught Oswald by surprise and was probably the reason for his next outburst. Foolishly, and without thinking, he had asked James to meet him in the cemetery the next night. It was a ridiculous suggestion, and not the usual location for a rendezvous, but he remembered James chuckling afterwards before agreeing that they must meet again. On that second date, James made sure to bring the flowers.
Since then they had changed their location, going out to dinners and dances, which then lead to breakfasts and tea-times. Now here they were, celebrating six months together back at the graveyard.
Oswald approached James, standing behind him at his father’s grave. Peter Gordon’s headstone was round and squat, not a display of wealth like some of those around it. From what James told Oswald, that was fitting for Peter, he was a kind lawyer who always put value into people instead of material goods. While Oswald respected that kind of life, he also enjoyed having the Van Dahl fortune at his disposal, but to each their own and it in no way affected his relationship with James.
Oswald put a hand on James’ shoulder. “He’s proud of you, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.”
“James…I know you by now, so I know when you’re lying.”
James sighed. “Alright, I admit his approval weighs heavily on my mind. I know I was supposed to follow his footsteps into the law, but I’m not certain law enforcement is what he had in mind.”
“You’re trying your best, that must count for something. You’re helping the city he loved in your own way, I couldn’t think of anything more worthy of approval.” Oswald moved closer, sliding his arm around James.
“I know…” then he paused for a long time, “I only wish that I could’ve heard him say it.”
“He’s saying it now, if you listen.” Oswald picked up James’ hand and put it on the grave. “What do you feel? Do you feel like he’s proud of you?”
James looked over at Oswald’s face, close to his. “Is this how one communes with the dead?”
“This is how I speak with the dead, or rather listen to them.” Oswald nudged him. “I like to think I talk with my mother all the time. However, if your heart’s not in it you won’t hear anything at all.”
James still scoffed, but then he closed his eyes and relaxed. Oswald couldn’t help, but just stare at the other man’s face. James always tried to look so assertive in public, but this softer side was the one Oswald knew to be true. He only wished the detective could show this side all the time, although Oswald also relished in the knowledge that these vulnerable moments seemed to exist only for him. After several long moments of silence, James finally opened his eyes and gave Oswald a doleful smile.
“Thank you for the advice. I’m not sure if I heard him, or if he heard me, but…I do feel better.”
Oswald gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad to hear it, darling. Now, you know what I’m feeling?”
James raised an eyebrow and glanced at Oswald’s lips, probably thinking something much more vulgar. It made Oswald chuckle as he stood straight. “I’m feeling a bit peckish, so perhaps we could open that picnic basket?”
There was a light blush on James’ cheeks, but he stood up as well. “Of course, we can’t have you going hungry.”
They linked arms again and walked back towards Gertrud’s grave where they left their blanket. James set everything up for them, finding a dry, even spot for their meal and then taking out dish after dish. Oswald was more concerned with the drinks, and he took out two glasses before opening a bottle of wine.
James looked up at him. “I thought you said you were hungry, not thirsty.”
“Can’t I be both?” Oswald chuckled and then lowered himself onto the blanket. “Now what should we toast to?”
“Hm, how about we toast your mother?”
“What a wonderful idea, it might help you finally get into her good graces.”
“She’s still upset about the flower?” James glanced back at Gertrud’s grave. “Haven’t I gotten her enough flowers since?”
“I think she’s also hesitant because she doesn’t trust just anyone with her one and only baby.” Oswald grinned and squeezed James’ hand.
“Maybe I should try talking with her the way I talk with my father.”
“Perhaps my dear, but first, let’s enjoy our dinner.” Oswald gestured to the sandwiches, fruits, and other finger foods.
“You’re right, you’re right.” James raised his wine glass. “Well then, how about a new toast? A toast to both our parents, to this lovely evening, and especially…to us .”
“Well said.” Oswald clinked his drink against James’ and they both took a sip. Then they both started divvying up the food, taking what they wanted or sharing bites with each other.
These were the moments Oswald loved the most, just him and his love talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. He doesn’t have to perform with James like he does with other members of the upper class, and at the same time James doesn’t have to keep up his walls when he’s with Oswald, they can both relax and be vulnerable. Once they finished their meal, it was time to open up the basket again because that’s where the pièce de résistance was…the dessert. Tucked safely at the bottom of the basket was a delicious, decadent, chocolate cake.
Oswald loved James, certainly, but as much as he loved his sweetheart, he also loved his sweets. “Must we even cut it? Would it be inappropriate to dig in with a fork?”
“Yes, yes it would be rather unsophisticated.” Then James winked and held up two forks. “But I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Giddy as a schoolboy, Oswald took the utensil and they both giggled as they started digging into the sweet treat. They did get a little messy, but any frosting or crumbs around their lips we kissed away, making the experience even better. When they had eaten their fill they cuddled close together on their blanket, and Oswald looked at their leftover dishes.
"Ugh, I do not want to clean all this up."
"Then put it from your mind for now, dear. Why don't you gaze at something more pleasing?"
Oswald immediately turned his attention to James and fluttered his lashes. "Ah, much better."
James laughed and hugged Oswald closer. "Very humorous. Although I was going to suggest looking upward, the stars are positively radiant tonight."
"Well then, I ought to start calling you a star, because you are also positively radiant ." He teased.
"Oswald…" James rolled his eyes, but then gave his lover a kiss, "please, you are far more beautiful than me or any heavenly body."
"You charmer." Oswald pulled him in for a longer kiss.
He could care less about stars or sweets right now because the only thing that mattered was the feel of James' lips on his and their arms around each other. Oswald tilted his head for a better angle and James followed suit, parting his lips slightly to allow their tongues to meet. James put an arm around Oswald’s back and practically pulled Oswald onto his lap. Their kisses deepened, their hands wandered over each other, and their hips grinded together. They would’ve been putting on a raunchy display for any passerby, but lucky for them they were all alone in the graveyard. Unless of course the stones had eyes, but even Oswald’s superstitions couldn’t keep him from his love.
They ended up lying next to each other, cuddled up on their picnic blanket. Their coats and vests were strewn about as they had stripped down to their undershirts. Oswald sneaked his hand under James’ clothes to run his fingers over the toned muscles. James smiled and put his hand over Oswald’s.
“How much further do we plan to go here, dear?”
Oswald wouldn’t mind going all the way here in the graveyard, and he gave James another long kiss to communicate his interest. However, shortly after, a gust of wind passed over the hill and made them both shiver. They squeezed closer together and Oswald laughed.
“I think this is as far as we’re getting tonight.” He started to reach for his layers. “It’s much too cold for anything else.”
“And you don’t think I could keep you warm?” James all but purred in his ear.
“I don’t doubt that, but…why risk catching a cold? Besides, if mother didn’t like you before she certainly wouldn’t appreciate us… keeping warm all over her plot.”
“Oh, so that’s where she draws the line? But kissing is approved?” Jim leaned closer to nibble on Oswald’s ear while his hand travelled down Oswald’s side. “And biting, and…”
“James!” Oswald snickered as he swatted the hand away. “Please, restrain yourself.”
“How can I? When I have someone so irresistible in my presence.”
“Well somehow I manage.” Oswald tapped James’ nose. “Now come along, we can get warm back at home, but we can not leave this mess out here.”
“Of course, we wouldn’t want to upset your mother, I understand.”
“Or any of the other spirits, I don’t think your father would approve of you being a slob either.”
James put his tailcoat back on with a half-smile. “You can really talk to them, can’t you?”
“James, it’s not just me. I firmly believe that anyone can communicate with the dead if they listen enough. That’s what my mother always told me, that the line between life and death isn’t as wide as we think, and that those we truly love are never too far away.” Oswald sighed wistfully, and then James took his hands.
“You make death sound so romantic.”
“You don’t think it is?”
James put one hand on Oswald’s cheek. “I don’t think the dying part is, but…the thought of spending an eternity with you afterwards…that sounds like heaven.”
“Oh James, you’re so sweet.” Oswald leaned in for another kiss and then wrapped James in a hug. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Oswald.” They held each other for a moment longer, and then James finally relaxed. “Now why don’t we clean up so we can go home and start our eternity early?”
“Nothing would make me happier.” Oswald snuck in one last kiss before they began to gather up their basket and blanket, packing up the remains of their romantic picnic.