“Politics? Ah, well, I try to stay away from it m’self,” he admitted with a shrug. “That being said, the old men down at the tavern are always babblin’ on about whatever it be. I don’t pay it much mind, though. As for religion, I don’t mind that you aren’t proper Catholic. My father would punch me straight in the face if he knew I was getting heated with someone outside of our faith. That’s a little exciting. Hm... there are a lot of things he would beat me for at this point,” he noted, though shook his head dismissively.

“That don’t matter much, right? What matters is that I’m having a homecooked meal with the most handsome man in this godforsaken town,” he purred smoothly. “Are you going to make md make breakfast? That’s quite a bit of work.”
 
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"I can make you breakfast. I don't have my cook come in during the mornings, I don't think it'd be fair to drag her from bed just to make me some porridge. I can handle that. Some porridge and honey will set you up for the day, it's what I have every morning and it hasn't let me down yet," the doctor responded, his cheeks a light pink at the compliment. He didn't think he was remotely that handsome, especially now he knew he couldn't get away with pretending he was 18 anymore. He didn't think he looked his age, but he knew he was looking older than he felt, and that sucked.

Especially when he had befriended someone who wasn't even in their 20s yet.

"Let's not discuss politics or religion, I think that's for the best. I can't imagine we'd agree on everything and I like you too much to start bickering with you. I'm not great at backing down from arguments when I get into them, it's best to avoid one altogether, aha..."
 
“What, are you saying you’d beat me in a debate?” He questioned, raising his brows curiously though with a grin. Whenever he was given a challenge, he took it and more often than not, beat it. “Well, I won’t test that. You’re a scholar and whatnot so I’m sure I couldn’t twist a phrase as well as you. That being said, I can still cook better than you,” he teased before moving to check the meat.

“Oh, that sounds pleasant. Haven’t had honey in quite a while. Better than sugar if you ask me,” he admitted as he knelt down, testing it curious. “Oh, with a nice cup of tea too in bed? That would be amazing.”
 
"I'm not fond of tea, but if that's what you want with your porridge in the morning, I'll be happy to oblige. You've done so much for me, helping me out with the cadaver issue and... god, this sounds horrendously cheesy, but you've helped me out romantically too. I'm grateful for that. Some men-- they aren't keen to... be themselves. It's a risk, isn't it? Admitting your sexuality by acting upon feelings. Some men -and women too, I imagine- will go their whole lives not admitting to themselves that they feel a certain way, and I'm... thankful you're not one of them," he smiled, deciding that it was worth sounding soppy in order to communicate how he felt. He wasn't fond of sounding like this when it came to socialising with friends, but with the men he was romantically engaged with, honesty was surely the best policy.

"...I've only been with two or three other men in the past, and clearly nothing has lasted. They're too worried people will find out. If you get... spooked or worried, just... tell me before you end our friendship. I appreciate honesty."
 
"I'm not like most men," he boasted easily with a toothy grin. "The only fun part of life is doing what your heart tells you, Joseph. My heart told me to come to Scotland and I don't regret it. My heart is telling me to explore these feelings I've... never had for a man before. Sure, it's incredibly risky but that's half the fun, isn't it?" He insisted, pressing closer eagerly.

"You need to relax sometimes. I know you're some stuffy doctor but you need to take a deep breath and just relax sometimes," he insisted reassuringly, adding a quick kiss to Joseph's forehead. "I mean, at least you've got some experience with this whole thing. I'm going into all of this completely blind in every way here.."
 
The kiss was nice, but it didn't detract away from the comment; a comment he unsurprisingly took as an insult. It might not have been a deliberate one, but what person would take being called 'stuffy' as a compliment? It sounded rude and it wasn't a word he would use to describe himself. He saw his older colleagues as stuffy; as boring and stuck in their ways, and he had gone out of his way to be seen differently.

Apparently, he hadn't gone quite far enough if Ricky was easily calling him stuffy without needing to think about his words beforehand.

"...You think I'm stuffy?" He inquired slowly, his brow arched as he attempted to hide his disappointment. He wasn't angry; just upset. "...That's... I think it's inaccurate, obviously. It's also quite... saddening? I thought I'd done enough to show you that I'm not... stuffy or boring. Maybe I'm sensitive, but... would you like to be called stuffy?"
 
"No, but that's because I know I'm not," he easily replied, clearly confused by the other's sudden emotions. Sure, it wasn't the nicest way to describe someone but he thought it was a cute jab, nothing serious? Leaning against the wall, he watched the other speak patiently. "Just because you're a bit stuffy doesn't mean you're a bad person, it's simply an observation," he reassured, a small frown spreading to his lips.

"... anyway, you should show me the rest of your home while we wait for the food to finish. It's so large, I bet there are a ton of little mysteries and goodies spread about," he decided to comment, desperate to get rid of the hostile air. "I mean, I'd have plenty of parties here if I were you."
 
"I don't like people in my home if it's avoidable. I do throw parties for my friends -we tend to take it in turns- but I host at my home in the country; it's less personal there," he explained quietly, his frown remaining etched on his face as he turned to the oven, just to give himself something to do. He had no idea what he was doing, of course, but he'd rather look an idiot as he checked the food than look awkward as he tried to find something to say.

"...If I'm stuffy, you're erratic," he commented flatly, glancing over his shoulder to take the other in. "You're too loud and lively and... sometimes it pays in life to be quiet and to take things in. I don't know; it's just an observation," he replied, smiling as if that would disguise the pettiness. He realised soon after that it was childish, hence the loud sigh he gave in annoyance with himself.

"Sorry-- I just-- it sounded like you were critiquing me and I'm already self-conscious enough about our... age difference. I'm older than you and... you calling me stuffy makes me feel older than I am, that's all. You're so lively and... I don't want that to change. I like that about you; it just makes me realise how much older than you I am, I guess."
 
“Oi, age is just a number, Joseph,” he reminded, his attempt to cheer up the other failing, apparently. “I don’t think that’s what makes me who I am. I’m just... an eager person. I’d be this eager if I was on my death bed for fuck’s sake. You’re just a... calmer person than me. I would love to take you out to have some more of my style of fun but I know that isn’t you - not because you’re older, just because I know you prefer more, ah... neater fun?” He tried to explained.

“What do I have to do to show you that I don’t care about your age, Joseph? I mean, I’d enjoy your company either way. I would hope you would still like me if the roles were reversed,” he quietly murmured before moving to check the meat himself, squinting from the sudden heat that came from the stove.
 
He gave no emotional indication that the words had reassured his fears, remaining more or less expressionless as he absorbed what was said and attempted to convince himself of it. Eventually, he succeeded, though he chose to emphasise that with actions rather than words, and said action came in the form of him waiting for the other to stand straight before pulling him into a heated embrace. In fact, he ended up more or less pinning Ricky against the wall, one hand behind his neck and the other rested comfortably on his hip.

He wasn't used to such heated moments of passion (at least when he was sober), so it was incredibly rare... but he hadn't ever been with someone who made him feel like he could act so spontaneously. Ricky was good for him, if only because he made him feel young again.

"...Try and eat quick, hm? I'd love to show you to the bedroom, I'm sure you'd like to see it, wouldn't you? I chose out all the decorations myself," he murmured flirtatiously, leaning back with a growing smile on his lips. "So try and be quick with your meal, I'm not an entirely patient man, Ricky."
 
Exhaling at the sudden and passionate kiss, his cheeks beetroot in surprise, a slow grin grew to his lips as he rested his hands on the other’s hips. When pulled away, he snorted bashfully as he was pulled away. Quickly hurrying to check up on the meat again, he slit it out with a grunt before cutting it to thick cubes.

“This’ll be enough to have for a few days,” he noted, trying his best to keep his bashfulness at bay. “I’ll take some off your hand if you’d like~? You can think of me for days, too.”
 
"Eh, take it all home with you, Ricky. What am I going to do with it? My cook would complain that it wasn't fresh and he'd end up giving it to the stray dogs, so you take it home and make yourself something else with it," he assured as he sat at the table. It wasn't a table he usually ate his meals from, the place solely used by his staff and his cook when they had their lunch together. He wasn't usually home for meals, and when he did get home, his meal was waiting for him in the oven. He warmed it up and usually just sat in bed eating it. It was totally against the 'gentlemanly' image he seemed to have, and his friends would be appalled if they learnt of the man's 'manners'.

"Just take it-- take as much as you need. You're no use to me if you died-- and I'd be genuinely hurt if you did die on me."
 
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“Id still be useful, don’t worry. You could pick m’brain all night literally,” he reminded before pouring himself the stew, humming in content at the smell. Slurping it back, it had to pause in content - he hadn’t had that sort of food for weeks. His father would slap him if he realized that Ricky had no intentions of savoring it. Instead, he ate quickly.

“Gotta keep my energy up for my little house tour,” he reminded after a good spoonful of food all the while wiggling his brows. “I mean, it’s a lot of effort, gotta have my strength up. You should too, for the... tour.”
 
"For the tour. The house is rather large, it might be tiring taking you on the tour, so... it's best to eat as much of your meal as you can. It can be exhausting-- tours, I mean," he smiled in return, knowing full well neither of them were alluding to tours in the slightest. He could be open and honest and admit that the other needed his strength if they were going to head to bed together (which is what he admittedly wanted to happen), but it felt crude to be that open with things, even if he was in the company of Ricky and Ricky only. He hadn't been raised to be open with his emotions, let alone with the topic of romance and sex.

"...I'd love to take you to a party at my country house. You can attend as someone else; a character. It might be fun tricking all the old socialites like that. Or you could attend as yourself and we'll deal with the inevitable judgement. I imagine they'll even be concerned for me that I have you as a friend. Not nice, of course it isn't, but that's what they're like - but I'd still like you to come, I think. It's... an experience, let's put it that way. There's music and parlour games and... it's genuinely fun. I don't take part in the pheasant shooting, but that's always a big event too."
 
He replied with a flustered snort, his cheeks red. To keep on the smoother side, though, he dared to offer a wink as he took another bite of the large chunks of beef, silently praising himself. It would never be as good as his mother's but for someone who couldn't remember the recipe by heart, he did a bang - up job. Raising his brows slowly at the suggestion, his wide smile only grew.

"Yes. Definitely. I would love to stroll up to all of your companions in a brand new waistcoat, a nifty new shirt... oh, I'll look like a dapper gentleman," he replied, rolling his eyes at the idea. "If you supply the costume, I will wear it. I'm sure I could turn heads no matter what, but I know this matters to you. I can't afford to look like the height of society, not yet - give it another two bodies and I could change my wardrobe."
 
"Or you could borrow something of mine? I have no problem sharing an outfit for the event, Ricky. I don't want you wasting your money buying clothes when I can let you borrow something for the night. I want you to come along and people might be fooled if you had on an outfit that cost a considerable amount, as my outfits do tend to be... ridiculously expensive. Fashion is a little interest of mine outside of work," he admitted as he watched the other devour his meal, smiling to himself. As long as Ricky got some food in him and recovered from his ordeal, he was happy. He had reasons for worrying about Ricky, both personal and professional, so seeing him build some strength up inevitably made him happy too.

"It should be a good night. We do tend to have fun, it's not all bad. Some of the company I keep are interesting people. I have an actor friend who performs on the stage; I'm friends with someone who writes poetry. Another of my friends travels the world and writes his findings in books that the are almost always best-selling. I'm sure you'll find someone there interesting company; they're not all self-obsessed egomaniacs."
 
“I mean, I would love to meet them if they’re actually interesting,” he teased before pushing the finished food away, rubbing his stomach in content. Getting to his feet, he spent no time to immediately lock their arms together, an eager grin on his lips.

“Come on, then, I want that tour,” he urged with a purr before daring to lean in for a kiss to the other’s neck. “Maybe I could try on your clothing after, hm? We don’t quite have the same body, Joseph,” he reminded in a whispered, his eagerness to be intimate being pretty obvious. This had been the first time he was with a man and he loved it. It was weird but exciting all the while, something he enjoyed more than anything.
 
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"...You are aware that I don't mean to take you on a tour right now, aren't you? I'm under the impression that we're going to the bedroom to... to be blunt, I thought we were heading up there to... engage in intercourse. I don't know, I'm not sure there's a nicer way to say it, it makes it sound so unromantic, but there's no other way to say it. That is what you had in mind, isn't it? Unless I've gotten the wrong end of the stick, I assumed we were hinting towards it. If you were interested in a tour, I could take you on that instead, I just... assumed you were more interested in me," he explained awkwardly, cringing to himself at the fear he had ruined the mood. It was perhaps best to have continued with the flirtatious hints, but he was also worried that he was heading down a different path to the other, and he wanted them to be on the same page. Unfortunately, he ended up grimacing in annoyance with himself for ruining the flirty atmosphere by being blunt and characteristically awkward. He wasn't awkward usually, but when it came to sex and approaching the subject, he was.

In an eager attempt to rectify his mistake, he grabbed Ricky's hand to pull him closer, leading him towards the stairs. Once in his bedroom, he calmly shut the door and glanced around the room, shrugging to himself. "It's not all that interesting. Just an averagely decorated room in a house, nothing too extravagant or cluttered. I... well, I can talk more about the wallpaper design if you want, but I'd rather undress and... get into bed, Ricky."
 
"Of course I meant sex, Joseph," he replied with a snort as he easily pressed close, laughing at just how anxious the other had become. It was cute and made him feel special knowing the other was getting all awkward and nervous around him. Once inside the bedroom, he took in the sight with a genuinely impressed nod... though he didn't spend much time focused on it. Instead, he took a seat on the bed and pat it expectantly, a smile on his lips.

"The wallpaper is lovely and all but I'd rather be looking at you," he purred, spending no time to unbutton his shirt to reveal the bruises from his pummelling prior, though made no note. He had been in pretty bad fights before and had definitely had worse injuries in general, so he paid no mind to it. "Come on, then! Unless you're somehow so unbelievably taken by my handsome appearance, though I thought you would have been used to it by now."
 
"...Are you sure you're up for this? Physically, I mean. You don't look too good, Ricky, I'd hate to... make you worse," he whispered, taking in the array of dark-coloured bruises with a grimace. He wanted to be romantic and continue what they had started a few days ago, this time being sober, but it was difficult not to draw attention to the other's injured state. He doubted a few minutes of sex would help him out, and as much as he wanted it, he would gladly put it aside to ensure Ricky could heal up first.

"I don't think we should, not tonight. Not until I'm certain you're better," he decided, carefully tugging his socks off with a tired sigh. "You can protest, but you're clearly not in a good way and I don't want to inadvertently hurt you more, so... let's just get some sleep."