A Long Time Homecoming [Mantis]

Reginold's brow twitched a bit, a brief disturbed expression, really no family at all? That was...deeply sad, but it wasn't his place to say so. He nodded to Mantis and took a sip of his wine thoughtfully looking into it's saccharin sweet, cherry red color. He cleared his throat and nodded.

A few bites of shrimp as he thought about his family, there was really more than enough to tell about them...but...he wasn't sure why he felt hesitant to say much. Seemed weird discussing his parents and his life, did Mantis have any context for most of it? The concept of it? The Doctor supposed it shouldn't keep him from talking, Mantis wanted him to talk it seemed. Perhaps it meant less for the spymaster to worry about. You don't have to think about all of that when someone else was holding conversation.

Reginold knew the trick pretty well. Uncomfortable corporate meetings and parties were made bearable by curbing his rambling habit and letting someone else do it.

"I...well my parents, I'm the 4th so obviously my father is Dr. Reginold the 3rd, he's a psychiatrist; my mother is a lawyer, they were an interesting pair to watch work. She'd often ask him for advice on court cases, he had a unique perspective after all..." Reginold replied finally. "He knew how to handle me. So sometimes he'd take off. They took turns, busy life I assume with a toddler like me...missing milestones and work." He shrugged and quickly brushed past that. "I have 3 aunts and 3 are married, but I have one uncle on my mothers side who never did; my fathers family is rather small the oldest of two."

"My cousin has been caring for the house, she lives a couples houses down...she...might visit. I was always rather close to her, seems my father's side carries a genetic predisposition to autism, she was diagnosed rather late with Aspergers; it's not so bad for her. Her kids used to play with Regi. I think they're both graduating college or have graduated? They're twins, fraternal..."

He went quiet. "I have other cousins, but honestly we were never as close. They moved state ages ago, I decided to stay in my home town because I had lots of jobs lined up seemed nice to be close to my parents. They're just in town, near my fathers Practice." It sort of sunk in for him how close everyone he knew and cared about were at this moment, and yet how...distant they seemed. Like they were in a different time from him. "I should...really make time to see them...My parents, it's been 7 years. And they are getting older of course." He ran his hand through his hair. "Ah...you'd probably recognize my father easily, we used to get mistaken for brothers when I was in college." He smiled a bit.

Reginold sipped wine, took a few bites of shrimp. "I suppose you're in luck...if I wasn't on the run I'd introduce you to some of them. I don't know if I could manage a trip into the city without someone noticing my movements," he said with a bit of a frown. "I should call them. They deserve that much."

It all sounded so … stable. Stable and alien, to Mantis anyway. He listened keenly, resisting the almost reflex-like reaction to file all the data away to the personal folder he had on Reginold. However, the moment, the information, felt too intimate for any of that. So, instead, Mantis poked at his food, his mind working around the new bits and pieces of information he was being fed. It all served to dig a deeper gap between the Spymaster and his paramour. Mantis had, after all, only known Reginold in ‘this life’ - the one where they both lived in the shadows. And while that kind of life had been the norm for Mantis, it wasn’t for Reginold. Or, at least it hadn’t always been.

He’d of course realized this before, but coming face to face with the actual, palpable reality of it left Mantis deep in thought. He seemed to shrink a little while lounging against the island, eyes somewhere in the food he was poking. At one point he rubbed his neck trying to look for the hoodie that was no longer there. He didn’t seem particularly cold, but just wanted to cover the life he’d lived while Reginold had had … a family? A socially acceptable existence? Not that it bothered Mantis - but it did give him some perspective. It didn’t make him seem particularly somber, but rather, slightly awkward in his attempt to understand it all.

“It all sounds-,” what did people say in these situations? He didn’t seem quite sure. “-like a good kind of life - good kind of people.”

With that, he glanced up at the Doctor, as though to make sure he’d said the right thing. Before his gaze returned back to the food, he gave a bitter smirk.

“Unfortunately you’ve already met the people I’ve known for the longest, so I have very little information to trade you,” Mantis said. “Unless inner workings of criminal organizations interest you, that is,” he continued, meaning it more in jest than anything. How this came up in a conversation about family, whether Mantis realized this or not, was profoundly sad.

‘Ah...you'd probably recognize my father easily, we used to get mistaken for brothers when I was in college.’

Mantis had been about to sip his wine then, but had to clear his throat into the glass. The sight of young Reginold (or rather, Whiskey’s depiction of him) flashed in his mind briefly, but once the unpleasant visual faded, he had to give the Doctor’s assessment a smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’m not exactly the type you'd want to take home to your parents anyway,” he tipped his glass towards Reginold in salute and his eyes narrowed some, his smirk widening a bit. "I'm a bad influence, you see." 

Reginold sighed as he finished up the glass, picking at the last remaining shrimp, not entirely sure he wanted to finish it. It had done the job, a bit of nourishment after a long trip. Talking about his family made him all the more aware of where his life had gone, so much more aware of what he'd lost. Stability, calm, and certainty. It was no wonder he kept getting overwhelmed, as much as he could pretend, he wasn't built for this life. Never had been. Likely never would be. It made him wonder how this relationship would keep going.

What happened when he finally had enough running, and fixed his problem? Did they break apart?

He sighed. The Doctor didn't like to think about it and instead looked at Mantis and gave a smile. "It was...is a good kind of life. I'd...like to return to it in some form eventually. I should probably sell the house, and get somewhere smaller though. I don't need all this," he said idly. "Maybe just an apartment or I could buy a condo. Enough room for relatives, but less maintenance."

"I don't know, I wouldn't mind hearing some wild stories of yours, close calls, narrow escapes; I'm sure it would sound like a book I'd read," he mused. He thought about his parents when Mantis spoke of them.

A little chuckle. "You'd be surprised, honestly they'd be thrilled if I brought anyone over...I've had some...less than thrilling conversations with them about my habits," he replied softly. "Nothing worse than getting a stern talking to from your mother about your sex life." He shook his head. "After Jackie they sort of expected I'd find someone new. Get married again, but I suppose I disappointed them in that sense. Marriage...I'm not really sure of the point anymore." A bit more wine was poured from the box's spout, and he took a long sip.

"I'm sure my father would at the very least find you an interesting study." That sounded worse than he meant it. "I mean to say he likes to pick people's brains, always a man of intellectual pursuit."

Mantis hummed a chuckle.

“There’s been a couple of close calls for sure,” he said and waved his artificial hand for emphasis.

He tried to think of a single anecdote from his past to share but it was all … gritty, to say the least. Too drug and death laced to bring to a dinner table. Instead, Mantis emptied his wine glass and set it in front of himself, his claws still playing about the glossy surface to occupy themselves. To have moment of complete pause like this served to remind him of how … exhausted he was. He didn’t maybe feel it as profoundly as Reginold did, what with the man actually having a stable life to compare his current one to and all. But Mantis had burned from both ends for a time much longer he could fathom. With this realization, the Spymaster looked at his paramour from across the kitchen isle, his gaze somewhat thoughtful.

‘ I should probably sell the house, and get somewhere smaller though. I don't need all this.’
He had to raise a brow at that, instinctively throwing a glance around.

“You’d be OK with that?” he asked when his gaze returned to Reginold. “Selling the house, I mean.” And what selling it, and subsequently settling somewhere else, might entail for him, for them together, he also acknowledged but didn’t address. It was all too many feeble variables and maybe, on some level, Mantis was afraid that addressing it would break something - snuff out the faint ray of light somewhere in there.

The mention Jackie drew him back into the current. He felt that familiar tinge in his innards with the mention of her, even if Reginold had done a rather throughout job of explaining how things had been with the woman. However, Mantis couldn’t help it. But neither could he help the slight tug at the corner of his mouth when Reginold assured him things might not be as dire with his parents as Mantis had initially thought.The Spymaster harbored no delusions of who he was and how he appeared, but to hear all that was … he couldn’t quite place it. Comforting, maybe?

And The Doctor’s anecdote about his mother was, of course, amusing.
“Your sex life?” Mantis chuckled. “That could mean a variety of things.”

Then, his smile settled into something more serious.
‘I'm sure my father would at the very least find you an interesting study.’

“I don’t know about that,” Mantis said eventually, somewhat evasive. His eyes were somewhere on the kitchen isle before he looked at Reginold again. “Even I don’t venture too deep into this mess,” he said and tapped his temple lightly for emphasis. “You survive better out there when you don’t think too much on certain things,” Mantis started feeling the craving for more wine at that. “Or experiences.” His fingers tensed slightly as memories tried to surface behind his face, but looking at Reginold kept him anchored. “And if that strategy fails, getting high always takes the edge right off,” he said in an attempt at bitter jest, knowing full well that Reginold wasn’t a stranger to abusing substances in this fashion either.

Reginold shrugged. "Would I be ok with anything that has happened had someone asked me 7 years ago? No, no I suppose not, things change. Though...the fact that I own this hunk of land and the house on it does make the thought less appealing," he replied as he looked out the window over the sink for a moment, the rain still pattering away. "Home is where the heart is, so they say. Maybe that's true, and I don't need a house to be there to be at home." He shrugged, not sure how all that came off but feeling it worthy enough to say all the same. He took a deep breath and let it go.

There was a lot going on in his head, the new chip courtesy of his...wayward son, did make things less muddy on the emotional side. It was a good and solid change. Today had been too much even for it sure, but in this moment, the small intimate conversation on these subjects was made more bearable.

"I don't know, about anything right now, without any kind of solid ground I can't really make any solid decisions," he offered as his final thought on the matter of selling the house.

Not like he could really move himself at the moment, all of his things would be trapped in limbo.

Reginold laughed bitterly. "Nymphomania I suppose isn't really a sex life, it's just like any addiction, escaping that which you cannot control," he said with a shrug, as he poured a couple more glasses from the box for each of them, noting Mantis was dry. "Chasing a high you'll never achieve again. Because just one more might just fill that ache, at least for a little while." He took a long sip. "I'm...decent at suppressing the compulsion...or bottling it however you'd like to call it. My father noticed it a lot quicker than I figured, never did give him enough credit he's quite good at his job."

The man tried to pull his negativity back and cleared his throat, surely Mantis was well aware of the feeling of helplessness at the hands of his vices. He shrugged. "Maybe it's best then we don't meet him, he'd probably be disappointed in both of us..." Another chuckle laced with bile. "Love my parents dearly, but I'm not in the mood to be psychoanalyzed."

There was a nod of agreement by Reginold at Mantis's sentiment, he too preferred to remain as exterior as possible. Sure it was for his own fear of becoming lost, but there was the sense that if he never looked in he never had to face his monsters. He sipped his wine and nodded slowly. "I do usually forget my troubles for a few hours after sex, it's a rather good distraction I suppose. Layer on Alcohol and Nicotine and it sounds like a perfectly good way to ignore most demons." A shrug. "Bury yourself deep enough and you might not even realize that they've made it all that much worse when you wake up from the manic night, naked, ashamed and stinking of someone else's sweat and cologne."

'Home is where the heart is, so they say. Maybe that's true, and I don't need a house to be there to be at home.'

Mantis looked up at this, his expression somewhat bemused, as though he’d just seen - or in this case, heard - something he wasn’t sure was there. He left Reginold’s musings lingering in the air unaddressed and leaned over his freshly filled glass of wine again. A metal claw gliding along the shape of the glass made the faintest of sounds as he observed the doctor across the island.

Nymphomania was certainly not any more comfortable topic for discussion than anything that had to do with the house - Reginold’s home - but at least Mantis knew a thing or two about it. Or, well, not directly about it, but he had his own set of vices to draw parallels from.

“Bury yourself deep enough, huh,” he repeated, deep in thought before sipping his wine, only to find out he was no longer feeling too thirsty for it.

He then straightened up slowly and moved to the same side of island Reginold was vacating. Mantis leaned the small of his back against the counter, finding a certain subconscious comfort in being close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him, the Doctor's body temperature maybe a touch elevated after the emotional turmoil he’d just navigated through.

“Well,” he said after a short silence had fallen in the wake of Reginold’s bitter confession. “I hope encounters like that have … been fewer as of late.”

Mantis adjusted himself, resting his hands on the edge of the counter.

“Not that we have agreed on any sort of exclusivity or anything,” he then added, a bit more careful, as though testing the air, the Doctor’s mindset around this thought. He couldn’t, however, bring himself to look at the man simultaneously. He was too jealous and greedy by nature to pose the words as casually as he would have maybe wanted to.

Reginold gave a sigh as he scratched his bearded cheek, the noise of nails on sandpaper; the nervous habit often made him feel less uncomfortable. He nodded. "Yes, not something I'm always fond I've done," he replied. "Used to be painkillers, but my doctor figured that out quick enough; moved me to supplements for "joint pain" or some such. Rough getting over that, long nights of lab work and stress aren't particularly helped by bunk supplements." He waved off the thought as he finished his glass and set it aside, he'd had enough. The night was too...charged for wasting away in a bottle of wine.

The doctor turned his green eyes to Mantis, thoughtfully observing him with some clinical interest beyond the more pronounce affection. Reginold found the spymaster interesting to watch in motion, the fluidity of his mechanics, the grace of the movements; all so impressively natural. Not all prosthetics were so well designed, and few people took to them like Mantis did.

At the inquiry he perked a brow, and then briefly frowned.

Not that we agreed to any sort of exclusivity or anything... No, he supposed there'd been no formal agreement, but Reginold sensed that perhaps Mantis would have preferred it.

"No such encounters at all, haven't found myself craving in quite the same way, though maybe that's just because I've been smoking more lately; nicotine does make an adequate substitute," he reassured as he turned himself to leaned back against the island as well, crossing his arms loosely. He glanced around the kitchen and sighed.

The doctor released one of his arms and his hand rested over Mantis's, the other hand palm to the counter. "Though...I never was one to eh...keep my options open, I suppose you could say." Reginold retained the sort of understood monogamy of the more traditional living. Sure on the road without someone he was looser, it was to be expected; needs were needs. Though, any chance he'd gotten he'd ended up with Mantis.

Reginold let his shoulders relax, and closed his eyes. "Call me old fashioned if you like."

A jolt of discomfort shook the plates on Mantis’s back when the topic of exclusivity was being discussed. Granted, he had prompted the conversation himself, but it didn’t make him any less embarrassed over feeling the way he did - jealous, possessive, the whole nine yards. And it made looking directly at Reginold indescribably hard - before Mantis found his hand beneath the Doctor’s, that was. The reassuring warmth of flesh against metal finally coaxed him out of his abashed stupor.

‘No such encounters at all.’

His fingers stirred under Reginold’s. The faint shade of red on top of his cheeks came and went, leaving a slightly surprised expression in its wake.

“Yeah?” he heard himself murmuring in response, not really expecting or wanting a reply. The word did, however, betray a certain sense of relief in the spymaster.

However, the ‘Call me old fashioned if you like’ made the corner of Mantis’s mouth curl into a subtle smirk. The mood shifted and his demeanor relaxed. Mantis peeled himself off the counter and positioned himself against the Doctor instead, face to face. Fabric shifted against fabric.

“Who would have thought you'd be hiding such a hopelessly romantic man in there, Doctor,” he teased, a tip of his claw gently tapping Reginold’s chest for emphasis. “I am almost surprised.” There was an impish glimmer to the green of his eyes as he spoke - certain theatrics to it all to cover the vulnerability he'd shown before. “Almost.”

The oddly pleasant smells of cigarettes, cold rain and wine intermingled on the older man - familiar, inviting even. Yet, they also made the same point Reginold had made just a moment earlier; of substitute behaviors that weren’t exactly any healthier than regularly bedding strangers.

Reginold sighed. "Love, romance, life in a beautiful home with a big yard and a wife and children to enjoy it with...yes for all my cold demeanor may suggest, I cannot deny I was always a hopeless romantic," he agreed as perked a brow as Mantis adjusted his position to a more intimate one, a small twitch of his lip suggested a smile. "Well, I do not wear romance particularly well; though I don't look half bad in a suit, and my taste in wine isn't so bad." He gave a light chuckle and leaned in a bit, putting his face closer to mantis's.

"I find it somewhat amusing that you almost don't believe me. I was a married man for some years, never had the thought to break that sort of trust," he mentioned with affection. His hands settled at the spymaster's hips, as he let his head tilt forward, resting his forehead against Mantis's.

The doctor took a deep breath of Koen, and briefly closed his eyes. "Is it ridiculous as a scientist to wish for the means to freeze time...so we can stay like this for an eternity? I find myself so tired of running." He looked over Mantis's face. "I don't...want us to eventually have to part again."

He paused, leaving a certain anticipation on the air.

"...I worry, constantly that at some point one of those goodbyes would be a final one." His hands moved to Mantis's back, and arms pulled the man in tight. "Not that I mean to ruin the mood, I just can't help but think of the worst, even when I'm trying not to."

Mantis’s arms slowly coiled around Reginold’s neck, loose and comfortable, as though they’d always been meant to be right there. His smirk lasted for a moment longer at the Doctor’s romantic streak, but as their breaths intermingled and forehead pressed against forehead, he couldn’t help but to let it dissolve into an actual smile. For a moment, his eyes fell shut, and his index finger lazily traced the back of the Doctor’s neck. However, it didn’t take long for the deceivingly calm moment to take on that familiarly bittersweet note.

Mantis’s lips parted and his eyes cracked open, a somewhat somber glimmer in their artificial green. But before he could say anything, he was pulled in even closer if possible. He felt the air empty from his lungs momentarily, but found himself comfortable exactly where he was - enclosed into the heat radiating off of Reginold’s body.

‘I worry, constantly that at some point one of those goodbyes would be a final one.’
There was a certain graveness to the silence that followed these words, and Mantis found it hard to fill. Because given their predicaments, the likeliness of every goodbye being the last one was not exactly close to 0.

These thoughts were apparent on his face for a time, before he unwrapped his arms from around the Doctor’s neck, but only to bring his hands to gently hold the older man’s face. The smooth metal of his thumb ran slowly across the five o’clock shadow on Reginold’s face. And for a moment, the uneasy surroundings seized to exist.

“I’m … we’re here now, aren’t we?” was he said.

‘Don’t disappear into the future. I’m right here,’ was what he thought. 'Love me here.'

Reginold found it difficult to let go of that worry, he'd been a man of the future, planning and articulating everything. His life used to have a sensible path, and everything had moved towards the goal...and then all of this. He still had trouble adjusting to being moment to moment, he could react but he couldn't plan.

Chaos didn't suit him.

He took a deep breath and let his head rest in the crook of Mantis's neck, these moments felt almost surreal; surrounded by his old life, and the new. The doctor raised his face as Mantis held it, glasses tilted and half fallen down his nose, he looked over the spymaster's face with half-blurred vision. It was hard to see a stable future, and it still had Reginold off-balance for it. At least Koen seemed to have a good grasp of the here and the now, it was easier to correct himself when he had something to hold on to.

...we're here now, aren't we? Yes, here, now; moment to moment. Reginold did his best to smile, but it came off a little weak, less than certain. He let a hand come up and rest on Mantis's at his cheek.

"...Yes, I...we are," he parroted. "And I...I love you." And that was enough, the future was later, this was now. And right now he wanted to kiss the man, and so he would. The doctor leaned in and pressed their lips together, moment to moment was more important right now. To dwell on the past or wonder on the future wasn't going to change each of these moments, so he ought to savor them.

He ought to keep them wrapped tight, and close.

Tomorrow could wait.

The ‘I love you’s still had a foreign ring to them - and the warmth of them was equally as welcome as it was something the spymaster wasn’t well acquainted with. Reginold, on the other hand, while maybe overwhelmed by the parameters of their situation at times, seemed more in odds with … the whole love thing. He was acquainted with the bridge that gapped partnership and passion, maybe due to having balanced on it before in the past- whereas Mantis had only ever known the latter.

There was a certain heartbreaking tenderness to the kiss they shared then. A delicate thing, much akin to the elusive time they shared together. Mantis let his eyes fall shut in it, his hands traveling from the Doctor’s face to the collar of his shirt. Tugging the fabric and leaning into the older man, he urged the kiss to run deeper. There was a certain need to it all, but maybe less of the physical - even if there was certainly that too - and more of the emotional kind. In face of Reginold’s respect and affection, Mantis was like a parched man freshly introduced to the concept of water.

And like any parched man, he couldn’t help but to ask for more.
When their kiss eventually broke, Mantis let his cheek sweep against Reginold’s, leaning closer to his ear.

"Show me-,” he whispered. “Show me how much.”
With his hands still on the collar of the Doctor’s shirt, Mantis kissed his jawline, the warmth of his breath on the sensitive flesh of the older man’s neck.

Reginold still felt a little strange. I love you felt...different, it wasn't the casual and everyday affirmation. It was more like a promise, full of a certain commitment. The doctor was still unsure how he felt about it, commitment. He'd been burned by it, threatened by it, and now ...he risked so much for it. Was it worth it?

Yes, probably; connection was worth it. His father had said as much a hundred times, and he was a seeming infinite well of such advice.

But what happened if it failed? He'd put aside the thought, but it crept back as he held onto Mantis. He was so vividly alive, breathing, and warm. Reginold felt like a cold rock, rigid and eroded by currents he had no control over. These moments, they felt so comfortable, they parted those currents and let him rest. His shoulders sunk, his tight lips loosened and his expression took on a look that felt as foreign as his past did. A feeling left behind and returned.

The distance he'd been holding onto for so much of the day closed, and he relaxed fully into the moment. Here was safe, as it always had been.

Mantis's words stirred something less pleasant within him, but contained it was not so threatening or all consuming. An itch, that's all it was, an itch. He let his hand slip beneath the hem of Mantis's shirt, warm skin to skin. He kissed the spymaster's brow, and temple. "...why don't we move somewhere more comfortable then, there's a bed or two around," he murmured in Koen's ear.