Old-Fashioned, or Another Story With Ghosts

Chapter 28. Angry Birds return to London, and Greg makes a move

The night was approaching.

The capital was buzzing and pubbing.

Greg was staring at his smartphone. His analysis result arrived. Not perfect but fine. 

Wilkins had had to almost drug him into the tailor's workshop earlier. The tailor and him were talking some foreign language. Greg acquired something about three suits, half-dozen shirts,  a few pairs of trousers, underwear, socks. He stopped listening at the coat. There was also a tuxedo among the crowd. With the adjective "urgent" hanging out with it. 

Later at home, Wilkins shared with him some sacred knowledge of table etiquette. Asked to never ask "where the salad is". And pointed out every thing that had a stem is held by a stem. And everything with a handle is held by a handle. Greg got flattered by the logics. Sandwiches were delicious, as well as the apple pie.

Well. James had returned long ago.
Greg has being about going to his bedroom and trying to seduce him for thirty five minutes already and counting.
Fuck.

Two hours ago, Charles was listening to James attentively for the whole time he was telling the story, just sipping on his brandy occasionally. Then laughed wholeheartedly and stretched his legs to the fire. "I remember you farther, Jamie. He was enjoying those ghost stories so much. Remember his favourite one? About a vampire lady and a clark?"

"I hate it. May I ask why exactly are you laughing, your highness?"

"I just wish I could see my mother's face when you come to her and ask for a marriage agreement between you and this boy and your ancestor to the Scottish shop lady. Well, I married a school teacher myself. Scottish boy most certainly beat it, though!"

James was surprisingly gloomy after the visit. He was nervous about the offer and nervous about what exactly was to be done if he misunderstood Gregory's sympathy. It would be a pity if he did.

So he decided he would just spend the rest of the night in his room, reading. Or playing that old fashioned Angry Birds on his smartphone. Wilkins sent him the bill from the tailor. James asked if Gregory had remained alive. "Alive and kicking, sir" was the answer.

James bombed more green pigs with the eggs.

The knock at the door was so polite he barely heard it. Lost the round, gasped and called to come in.

Greg was planning to kiss him right after his grace opens the door. He could not come up with any smart or witty line, and decided towards meaningful silence. But only because Isobel kicked his butt mercilessly in WhatsApp and treated to come and kick it offline if Greg don't go and kiss his Lord Charming immediately. She dragged the promise from him and left for Brian to watch Shrek 2.  The most merciless lass from Adam's noble rib. A witch.

The way towards James' bedroom took ages. The whole two meters of the passage to the opposite door. A small house, right?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

And now, after Greg sweated out everything and was ready to try the kiss James mixed all his cards by appearing to stay in the armchair. 

Light grey sweater suited him. Should be easy to take away. The absence of cufflinks was a pity, though. There was a lot in Greg's dreams about cufflinks. 

"My dear Gregory, what a nice surprise! Please, do come in. What can I do for you?"

"May I borrow a book?"

James blinked. Contagious habit, the one might notice. Greg cursed inwardly. "A book? Of course. Which book, exactly?"

"The one about Japanese interior design and shadows. By the  author of Makioka Sisters." He would take it and hang himself. The bathroom seemed quite convenient for that sort of things.  

"Ah, In Praise of Shadows by Tanizaki? It happens to be in the library, my dear Gregory. Are you quite all right?"

"Yes. Totally. Absolutely. Sure. Where is the library?"

"On the ground floor. This is also my study. You look pale."

"It's just light."

Greg looked down. And hid his hands. James was trying to figure out what was the reason exactly, and was sure he didn't get it right completely, because when he offered to show him the library, he looked both relieved and disappointed. And said he would perfectly find it himself.

James's phone in his pocket made a noticeable Angry Bird sound. Then a noticeable crashed pig sound.

Greg frowned.

"I'm old fashioned." James smiled. "And sometimes boring. But I'm extremely happy you are here."

Greg swallowed. Looked up at James, lips parted, a couple of locks standing upright on his nape. He wasn't aware - never checked in the mirror before leaving the room. 

"You... promised me something. Sir." That sounded almost rude. 

James raised the brows. "Oh. I am extremely sorry..."

"The ballet. It's tomorrow already, and I haven't seen even a single one. I don't want to be dumb tomorrow, could you watch something with me on YouTube? A couple of extracts. Or...solos."

"Variations."

"Aye. This."

Greg was aware his voice was sounding too high pitched, almost hysterical. But his was talking with some part, and his main part was numb and hidden deep inside, silenced and ditched and scared as hell with the suspicion only that his kiss would not be answered. 

He hated himself for that numbness. Maybe, James would just refuse and say he was going to go to bed.

James did no such thing though. "Do you think you would be dishonoured if we just stay here and watch, say, Giselle? You can keep on the shoes, I won't tell Wilkins."

Greg bit his lip and nodded, and James thought he was extremely good looking at that moment and might be he might try kissing him right at that moment. But he had the plan, didn't he? It was a good plan and was indeed to be followed.

"What is it about? Love?"

"Ghosts. On the other hand, maybe that is not a good idea now. Anyway." James threw a plaid onto his bed from the chair, and an extra pillow. "We can watch The Sleeping Beauty. It's a bit boring, but can lull you to sleep."

"The Sleeping Beauty." The answer came immediately. Greg felt even more relieved and disappointed and was happy to put his feet under the plaid. He didn't mind to have a little secret with James from Wilkins. From anyone, honestly. "I won't fell asleep, that would be inappropriate. Besides, it's new to me. The ballet thing. It's interesting."

"I do understand. I don't think I might find the original Petipa version, so we'll have to go for Nuriev's version from Royal Opera House."

Greg made a face. "Stop. Please, stop here, James. You are getting too far. Wait for the first act as least."

James laughed. They tucked with his iPad between pillows and under the woollen plaid. He hasn't done it for ages, and most certainly never with someone.

Greg liked the first act, especially Fairy Carabos. And fell asleep while Prince Desire was wandering in the woods in his longish search of his beautiful stupid princess. 

Nuriev's add-ons were boring indeed.

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