Work Text:
Mine
by Roaming Tigress
I have been with Hosea for over thirty years.
Thirty years of mayhem, heartbreak, and misadventure, with a bit of fun and love along the way.
One would assume that after thirty years, with our wrinkles, receding hairlines and the extra few pounds we had found along the way, things would get a little ho-hum. Been there, done that.
Not so with us.
The flame is still alive; we dance our dances, literally and figuratively. We still bicker; sometimes a little louder these days -- our hearing isn't quite what it was. Hosea is still pulling his scams -- er, schemes. I'm still planning my plans.
And I still put my hand on his when I know he needs reassurance.
If you think we don't get into any trouble these days? Foolish assumption!
We even get in trouble with each other.
Allow me to demonstrate.
Strawberry will be the setting for the story. That little town nestled in Big Valley's wilderness, with its boutique hotels draws in outdoorsmen who don't mind that the town's 'dry' but want a little comfort after a day of seeking out trophy elk, Grizzlies and the best trout in the lands. Why settle for tents when you can have a roof over your head and for just a little more, a deluxe bath? For many years, it's been a weekend getaway for us; often in the spring when the cherry blossoms tucked away in a small courtyard for the Trackers Hotel are in full bloom, and in the autumn, with the fall colours out in their full glory.
Strawberry not only draws anglers and hunters but also attractive women and men (and hunters and anglers can certainly be handsome) stopping by for the night on their travels -- and not just yours truly and his ol' ball and chains.
Allow me to introduce Marius Trepani, a tall, handsome, burly gentleman of Italian and French descent who owns a successful Thoroughbred breeding farm in Canada and has rather dashing long dark, wavy hair. The article I read states that he's thirty-five years old. He's produced some fine racehorses who have done well in both nations. But enough about his accomplishments; I want to talk about my encounter with him.
I first met Marius in the reception area of the Welcome Centre, that quaint, log cabin-style hotel where reservations are recommended well ahead of travel.
And I felt flirty.
It's been a while since I've flirted with someone other than Hosea. Now, you know as well as I do how much I love the Old Girl, but once in a while, I just can't fight my nature. And maybe, I was a little curious to see if I could still make Hosea jealous; it's been a little while since that, too.
I strode from the couch Hosea and I were seated on to the front desk without a hint of a hitch in the get-along, and I popped a hip out as I leaned against it. The hotel owner had left the desk to search for the gentleman's room key in the back room as it was missing from
"Beautiful time of the year for a stay, sir."
Marius nodded, maybe with an eyebrow raised. "It is."
I cast him a coy smile; older gentlemen can intimidate some younger fellows, forgetting they might not have he same level of experience. I wanted to create a draw by being cute and charming, which naturally comes to me. "Come to check out the stallion at the stable? He sure is a beauty. He's a little older but still thinks he's all that. Flies around the paddock like he owns the place."
The cat was out of the bag; he realized I knew who he was. He twirled a rather nice handlebar mustache in thought. "Dynaformer is a beautiful stallion but I'd rather not have another Roberto in my stables. They produce some nice sturdy foals, but -- " He came around to realizing what I was up to: the body language, my expression, and the wording of which I brought up the subject of the stallion wherein I was maybe not so referring to myself.
There was also a chance he might have known who I was; there are still wanted posters of us around. We might have even collected a few in town.
"But . . . " Marius leaned in. "I might make an exception to Dynaformer."
I then felt Hosea's eyes on us.
"'Dynaformer' is not available."
He stood tall, his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on Marius. The younger man raised his hands in a signal of diffusion. He was a bigger man than Hosea, but the Old Girl has a way of putting people in their place without laying a hand on them. Maybe it comes from a vibe he puts out, a presence, how he holds himself, a mysterious force—something of a mixture of them all. I'd be lying if the Old Girl hadn't put me in my place once or twice over the years.
"He was comin' onto me, sir."
Hosea took a step forward, causing Marius to step back. "And you responded."
The flush to Marius' cheeks returned as his nervousness increased. 'This was it,' he must have thought, 'this is the way I'm going to go out, death from flirting.'
"H-he drew me in, sir. I-I didn't know he was taken."
I watched the proceedings with a twinkle in my eye. Hosea still has it in him; I very much 'belong' to him and he'll let anyone know who he thinks might whisk me away. I can't blame them for that; I'm a bit of a stud.
I see a smirk in the corners of Hosea's lips. He made his point clear. "Well, now you know."
He then turned to me, giving me a scolding glare that made me feel like I had been shrunk to the size of a squirrel. Okay, maybe he put me in my place for the third time in thirty years.
"As for you . . . " Hosea spoke in a low tone, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, and pulled me up so close to his face that the tips of our noses touched.
And then he kissed me. Truly, madly, deeply.
It was the sort of kiss that was possessive, punishingly affirmative and dominating, reminding me of how much I mean to Hosea. It was a silent argument, a statement, that I couldn't enlist my silver tongue and argue back with. And so, in no position to argue even if I wanted to, I surrendered in this battle, letting him know I did so with a gentle nuzzle of my nose against his.
His. I am his, and I will not argue it.
Poor Marius! He stood there, stunned, and yet unable to pry himself away. He went from a casual conversation about a horse to being flirted at, and then when he responded in kind, he saw his very life flash before him. And now he was subjected to the makeout session between two old men.
It was just then though that the innkeeper came back with his key. The kissing gentlemen (who hadn't come up for air with his arrival) hardly phased him more than an eyebrow raised. He's seen kissing fellas before. He might have also caught us kissing once upon a time.
"Your key, sir," the innkeeper spoke out, holding out the key to the stunned gentleman.
There was relief to Marius's voice when he took the key. "Thank you."
He turned to us with a raised eyebrow as we eventually broke the kiss. Humans eventually need something called oxygen, and our supply was running a bit low.
"Newlyweds?" He asked.
I gave him a drunk smile and flopped back onto the couch. My head felt like it was swimming. Hosea is still a fine kisser and can suck the air out of my lungs if it were possible. I'm the more touchy-feely one in public but when the old flames of jealousy erupt, he'd let the world know who I'm with.
"Thirty-three years now."
We would later meet up with Marius again and the two of us gave him a tour of the area -- and maybe as we came to enjoy each other's company, we turned it into a date between us three. We do such things from time to time for fun. He knows I'm a flirt and will sometimes loosen the leash, knowing it is him that I truly love; and after all, I was reasonably well-behaved on that date.
But at the end of the day, we fools are meant for each other, for better or for worse, through quiet and chaos, through hopes and dreams, and through the heartbreaks and triumphs we see each through.
There is no love like VanderMatthews love.