Work Text:
Admiring the quiet, yet intense embalmer from afar was easy. Writing letters and having them delivered by that little postboy he favored so much, that too, was easy. But inviting him here, on a… date(?)
That was surprisingly difficult.
The embalmer sat silently at the table, silver locks tied neatly into a ponytail behind his head with a ribbon that the photographer had gifted him some time ago.
"So many gifts…"
He had muttered when he received yet another package. But he wasn't complaining, though it was certainly a new experience for him.
The setting was pleasant, the temperature cool, and a breeze that was ever slightly too strong rustled the trees around them with hushed whispering as they observed the odd duo beneath their leaves. Over the top floral bouquets, ornate teacups, and a matching teapot decorated the table, alongside more than enough food for two people who hardly ever had much of an appetite.
The meticulous mortician sipped his coffee - peering into the murky, earthy tones of the liquid, reflecting on what their relationship was. His eyes searched the cup for something, unaware he was being watched.
The photographer, sipping piping hot tea with what appeared to be little abandon for the state of his taste buds, peered over his cup and decided to speak first.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet me. The weather, it's nice today, isn't it?" The photographer commented, idly watching the stray hairs around Aesop's face brush against his cheeks.
"It's the same as it always is, isn't it." Aesop responded evenly, still not looking up from his cup. "This manor…the weather is mild at best, and frigid at worst."
Finally, he looked up, their eyes connecting.
"But that's not what you meant, right? You were just making small talk."
Joseph's expression widened, eyes twinkling with delight at the mortician's strange sense of humor.
"Would it kill you to humor me?"
"Unfortunately not." He placed the cup down, boredly staring off to the side, though there was a slight hint of mischief behind his expression. "Though my clients should be lucky that my humor isn't my method of delivering them to rest."
"You're skilled in other ways. Though I personally find you quite funny," Joseph commented, plucking a cookie from the tray on the table.
"You also have shockingly low standards for what amuses you." The embalmer eyed the fruit tray, wrinkling his nose slightly at the way the various fruits were laid, grapes unpleasantly touching the sticky cut pineapple. He instead opted for the safer option, picking up a familiar cracker and eating it. It seemed that he had caught the photographer's eye, who was watching him with focused interest.
"Not a fan of fruit?"
"Not arranged like that."
Joseph wasn't sure exactly what Aesop meant. Instead, he poked a fork into a piece of cheese, holding it out to Aesop as an offering of peace. The embalmer stared at it for a few brief moments like an unimpressed cat, before opening his mouth and taking it with a hum of appreciation.
After chewing for a while, Aesop spoke up first for once, keeping his eyes on Joseph's expressive and easy to read face.
"So those letters…pretty descriptive, aren't you?"
Joseph paused, not having fully prepared to have his declarations of admiration waved in his face.
“Mm? I write a lot of things here and there, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what you’re referring to, mon chéri.”
“Even the lens of my camera struggles to capture the breadth of your beauty, the dull and hushed bells of your voice, and your supple— “
“Alright, you’re well read, then! Memorizing the words like that…!” Joseph’s cheeks had reddened, eyes suddenly staring holes into the table as if he was being held on trial for his crimes.
“I reread them often, is all,” Aesop placed his cup onto the plate with a quiet click, repositioning his mask as he stood from the table and walked behind the other man’s chair, initiating a small form of affection by wrapping his arms around the shoulders of the photographer. There was a small squeeze, before he released him. Gloved hands trailed down azure sleeves, fingertips trailing over his dainty wrists.
“Joseph…” His fingers slid across the tops of the other man’s hands, turning his head slightly to whisper in his ear. “You never gave me the opportunity to respond.”
Joseph swallowed, a nervous expression creeping across his face as he turned slightly to try to see the look on Aesop’s face. “I’ll admit I’m not a patient man.”
“And yet you’ve sent me 10 letters with no written response.” Slowly his fingertips slipped between Joseph’s, brushing against the soft insides between each digit. “Not very patient, but certainly… persistent.” He clamped his fingers around him, squeezing his hands as Joseph relaxed into him, a soft huff of acceptance as his fingers curled in submission.
“I won’t deny it. So what? You’ve come here to…drink my coffee and admonish me for my advances?”
“If I were given the opportunity to unravel every thread of you, to weave our story, to entwine the comings and goings of life and death together in a macabre tapestry, I would take it - and wrap our bare skin with it until our bodies were warm again.” Aesop repeated without missing a beat, the dull tint of his voice enunciating each intimate syllable with masterful accuracy.
Joseph flushed further at the tender line being repeated at him, the heat of their proximity slowly becoming too much to bear. A twinge of irritation at the embalmer suddenly having the upper hand struck his pride.
“Yes, I… know what I wrote, cher. Why don’t you use your own words?”
“Opportunity is knocking, Joseph.” His hand escaped from between his fingertips, the soft glove now touching the soft porcelain surface of Joseph’s face. “You’re being…awfully shy, for a man who has been so insistent on my presence.”
Joseph stood finally, breaking away to regain his composure. Really, this man who had been too meek to even acknowledge him in their recent matches was daring to play him like a violin? His hands gently rested on Aesop’s shoulders until they slid down his arms, his posture intense, like a predator revealing himself to his prey. Though, the other man seemed unphased.
“That match where you confronted me and began questioning me about my work. You wanted to know who I am, who I was. I’ve said this in as many letters, but was this simple deception?” It was his turn to embarrass the embalmer now, whose seemingly docile eyes flickered with something unreadable.
“It was simple curiosity. I had no intention of deceiving you. I just wasn’t in the mood to play that day. Either outcome was favorable. You’d eliminate me, or I’d learn something.”
“Is life really so meaningless to you?”
“You and I both know what we do in this manor can hardly be considered living. ”
Joseph’s hand reached up to Aesop’s face, gently pulling his mask down to catch a glimpse of his full expression. Though he expected Aesop to shy away, he didn’t. What he received was a cold, waiting gaze. The sharp angles of his face, the subtle dimple in his chin…That delicate cupid’s bow that Joseph had waxed poetic about after seeing it for the first time.
“If we are living, or are existing in an elaborate realm of death, neither give me a good reason to miss out on having my way with a handsome man.” Joseph leaned down to press a kiss to Aesop’s lips, who pulled away with hesitation, his expression giving the impression he wasn’t fully convinced.
“Tell me, photographer. I don't believe in the temporary. You're really interested in…me? Not just a desire to fill the cold spot in your bed?" It hardly made a difference to Aesop, but getting involved with the photographer's notorious web of flings sounded tiresome, and if it'd cause him to have to interact with the living more than absolutely necessary, he'd pass on these fleeting feelings that had been brewing inside of him.
"I haven't slept with anyone since the day we had that conversation, if that's what you're asking. The way I feel about you…my interest in you… it's different."
It was enough to appease Aesop, for now. He reciprocated by wrapping his arms around Joseph's small waist beneath his coat, head tilting up to press a kiss to his lips, the scent of cigarette and coffee still thick on his breath, despite the way he had attempted to mask it with mint.
Joseph was pleasantly surprised, finding himself chasing the strong scent, desiring to have more of the taste on his tongue.
"I didn't know you smoked." Joseph commented, and Aesop sighed, blinking languidly as he shrugged.
"And I wasn't aware I was being subject to a patdown." He commented, noticing Joseph's hands wandering lower and lower over the soft curves of his behind, with little regard for his personal space.
"Touché." The photographer's hands returned to a respectable place in the small of his back, and he flashed a dazzling smile at him, caught in the act.
"I look forward to learning plenty more, so don't hold back now."
It was Aesop's turn to blush, the plain admission making his stomach turn with nerves.
"Don't hold your breath." He said simply, closing the difference with actions, rather than the words he had still yet to give a proper response to.
In due time, he would.