A Balance of Harmonies: Being of Service
Nov. 25th, 2012 11:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
frogs_of_warI had hoped to make the meeting scene long and complete, but I simply didn’t have time to research between getting ready for the holiday at the store, celebrating the holiday with the family, cleaning up after the kids who got the entire week off school, and the two other stories demanding attention. A third is plaguing me, but I’m attempting to ignore it because I only have one more day off this week and if I don’t spend the whole day working on Harmonies, I will be stuck trying to write it at the last moment just like this chapter.
Title: Being of service
Series: A Balance of Harmonies (Three)
Status: Chapter ninety-seven of too many
Genre: m/m romance, drama, city life, businessmen
Rating: R
Content: sketching, greetings, confidence, love, voting, one-eighth, plans, concern, Sleeping Beauty, pain, tears, a request, a compliment, being of service, hope, belief
Length: about 1,900 words
Summary: Peregrine hurts his Dad to help him. Kurt saves the day. And Emil’s mystery gets curiouser.
Master list
Peregrine sat where he could watch the meeting door. Janine’s dog sat at his feet, too close to get a good sketch of him. Little James hadn’t wanted to stay on his cushion while Peregrine attempted to paint him yesterday. He preferred Peregrine’s active attention to his passive attention, but Peregrine had a good memory. The painting wasn’t entirely complete, but Janine had asked Peregrine to set his easel up in the meeting room to show it off.
Of course Peregrine complied. He was a sucker to the lonely. Everyone who came in stopped for a moment and looked the painting over. Several looked around for the dog. They must have come to other meetings. Others looked around as if they’d never been in the meeting room before.
Kurt stood near the snack table with a paper cup of coffee in his hand. He talked and shook hands and nodded to one and all. He had another lawyer with him, but that guy sat looking through papers in the back of the room. Peregrine added a bit more interest to his face then moved to sketch a couple who’d just sat down.
He wasn’t going to pull out the paint until the meeting started. Fewer people would move around after that.
--
Kurt breathed deeply in an effort to look calm. He had just fought off another attempt to regulate the amount of visitors each condo could receive in a month. Now he needed to fight back. He checked the wording on the brief the homeowner’s rights lawyer had written. Then he stood. He could do this. He could protect his freedom at the freedom of his friends. He had the power in his hands and voice. He wasn’t going to let anyone down.
--
Emil squeezed his hands together and tried to sit still. But both his men were at their best. How was he supposed to sit still when he wanted to cheer?
Peregrine painted the room on a wide short canvas. Kurt was right; Peregrine was really beautiful when lost in his work. Every movement was graceful, sexy, tempting. Emil had a brief flash of what it felt like to be under that concentrated gaze. He discretely adjusted himself.
And Kurt’s strong voice carried well over the assembled group without rising in volume. The lights shone on his pale blond hair and gave him a halo. He was an angel. A big, strong, muscular angel who was going to save even the people who didn’t realize they needed saving. The longer he talked, the more people nodded in agreement. Emil nodded too.
The changes Kurt proposed made sense. Twelve and a half percent of the residents shouldn’t be allowed to make changes that affected the other seven-eighths. Picking the color of a rug or buying new furniture for the common spaces was one thing, blocking invited guests from entering a condo was completely different.
When Kurt finished his monologue, he answered questions, many from people that had nodded as he spoke. He had a lot of people on his side when he began and more by the time questions were over. When the time came to vote, Emil held up his hands with the others.
Kurt grinned at him. The cheesecake cooling in the fridge wasn’t enough for his men. He had to think of something better, and quickly because Peregrine flew back to California tonight. Emil licked his lips. He knew what he wanted.
--
Kurt stepped in the room and looked down at sleeping Emil. Kurt and Peregrine had kissed him goodbye before Kurt drove Peregrine to the airport. Emil had been barely awake then. Now he was sleeping deeply, like a handsome Sleeping Beauty. Kurt wanted to wake him up and continue to show him how happy his praise had made him, but Emil needed be up and dressed before the construction crew arrived. Kurt pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. His pants followed and he slid beneath the sheets. Emil sighed and snuggled against him, which made Kurt not what to let Emil sleep even more.
He ran his fingers through Emil’s hair. Was Peregrine right? Was something on Emil’s mind? But if it was, it hadn’t damped Emil enthusiasm in bed. Emil sighed Kurt’s name. Kurt smiled down at him. Maybe he’d wake up and make that an invitation or maybe he’d stay asleep, his head against Kurt’s chest. Either way Emil was Kurt’s slice of heaven on earth.
--
Peregrine sat his bag down and stared at Dad. “How did your exercises go?”
Tinúviel held up her brush and ponytail holders. “Daddy didn’t do them.”
Peregrine set his baby sister on a stool and brushed out her long hair. Mom scurried around the kitchen. School started in a half an hour and no one was ready. Five minutes later, the house settled down to just Peregrine and Dad. Peregrine picked up the top book on the pile beside Dad. “How much does it hurt?”
Dad lowered his book. “Does what?”
“How much does not being able to do what you used to do hurt? So much you want to give up trying? Or only enough that you want to work hard to get what you can back?”
Dad stared out the window. “The doctors say I might only recover to seventy percent.”
“And what are you now? Thirty?”
Dad shrugged.
“Is being in a wheelchair really better that having your kids see you use a walker?”
Dad turned away. “What would you know about it anyway?”
Peregrine sat down beside Dad. “I know what it’s like to be less than myself. You wouldn’t have recognized me if you’d seen me seven years ago.” He closed his eyes. “Or even seven months ago. I’m whole. Finally. But it takes effort and hope.”
“Hope?”
Peregrine patted Dad’s arm. “Emil brought me to life and Kurt gave me hope that I could be that person I’d thought was broken forever.”
Dad turned to Peregrine. “One wasn’t enough.”
Peregrine shook his head. “That’s too much of a burden for any one person. Mom can keep you alive. The kids can give you reasons to want to get better. And I’ll believe in you until that want turns to hope. You will be up and running around in no time.”
Dad pulled papers out of the bottom of the stack. “You do it. I can’t on my own.”
So Peregrine stretched out the muscles and tendons around Dad’s ankle and pretended he didn’t see the tears of pain. And he kept his head down so Dad didn’t see his wet eyes either.
--
Emil tried to be patient, but having construction workers, polite as they may be, troop through his house was much more annoying that having them come and go unseen. Maybe they should have asked for the master bath to be done last.
He stopped trying to write and gathered up laundry for a load. One of the construction workers stopped dead and stared. He turned to the foreman. The foreman tapped his back and the young man started moving again, but he shot Emil one more look before he stepped in what had been Peregrine’s studio. Now what was that about? And did it have anything to do with the foreman looking familiar?
--
Kurt looked up when Beka knocked on his open office door. He waved her and Veronica in. She bit her lip and looked at the floor. Veronica rolled her eyes and sat down in a stair, doing all those sit down things his mother had taught his sister to do like smoothing her skirt and perching at the edge. “Kurt, we need a favor.”
Beka shook her head. “Don’t put it like that.”
“It is like that.” Veronica turned back to Kurt. “We are meeting a client for lunch—”
“And,” said Beka, “under other circumstances we wouldn’t ask you to do something that isn’t you job.”
Veronica held up her hand. “I’ve got this. You can go fret about being a good feminist later. Kurt, we… I was wondering whether you would care to join us for a client meeting this afternoon.”
“You don’t have to,” said Beka.
Veronica rolled her eyes. “To put it bluntly: Our client is a pure gentleman when men are present, but he’s handsy with just women and we could file a claim against him or we could just invite a man along.”
Kurt frowned. “Does the company know?”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to work for a company that let their workers get harassed.
“This client is fine along as he brings a man with him, but as he’s the company owner, he doesn’t always. And Chambers was scheduled to go with us, but he’s sleeping off a hangover in his office. We want someone who will pay attention and keep the client on the straight and narrow. We can’t think of a better gentleman than you.”
Kurt grinned at the compliment. “Thank you. I would love to join you for lunch.”
Beka bit her lip. “It’s going to be a long lunch.”
“Beka! Don’t talk him out of it!”
Kurt nodded. “I’ve always wondered what these meeting were like. Thank you for the invitation.”
“Thanks, so much. We’ll come and get you at eleven thirty.” Veronica popped up from her chair. That would have earned his sister a lecture from their mother.
As they left Beka whispered, “Shouldn’t we have dealt with this ourselves?”
Veronica turned to her. “Using the right tool for the right job is dealing with this ourselves.”
And then she grinned at Kurt. He was glad to be of service.
--
Peregrine followed Mom into the kitchen. She glanced back into the dining room where Dad slept fitfully and then looked at her hands. “I… I can’t do this alone. I can’t make him hurt to make him better. I just can’t.”
Peregrine rubbed Mom’s back. “I’ll find someone to take my place when I’m gone.”
She shook her head. “No one will ever take your place.”
Peregrine smiled and passed Mom a tissue. “I know how you feel, but someone needs to motivate him when I’m not here.”
“But he won’t want some stranger to see him like that. The physical therapists are bad enogh. You know how he always wants to be strong and tough. This accident is making him feel… wimpy.”
“He is being strong. I’m going out for a while. I’ll find someone Dad will accept.”
Mom pressed her lips together. “I hope so.”
“Believe in me, Mom.” Peregrine squeezed her hand. “I’ve got this covered.”
And he knew exactly who to ask first.
Title: Being of service
Series: A Balance of Harmonies (Three)
Status: Chapter ninety-seven of too many
Genre: m/m romance, drama, city life, businessmen
Rating: R
Content: sketching, greetings, confidence, love, voting, one-eighth, plans, concern, Sleeping Beauty, pain, tears, a request, a compliment, being of service, hope, belief
Length: about 1,900 words
Summary: Peregrine hurts his Dad to help him. Kurt saves the day. And Emil’s mystery gets curiouser.
Master list
Peregrine sat where he could watch the meeting door. Janine’s dog sat at his feet, too close to get a good sketch of him. Little James hadn’t wanted to stay on his cushion while Peregrine attempted to paint him yesterday. He preferred Peregrine’s active attention to his passive attention, but Peregrine had a good memory. The painting wasn’t entirely complete, but Janine had asked Peregrine to set his easel up in the meeting room to show it off.
Of course Peregrine complied. He was a sucker to the lonely. Everyone who came in stopped for a moment and looked the painting over. Several looked around for the dog. They must have come to other meetings. Others looked around as if they’d never been in the meeting room before.
Kurt stood near the snack table with a paper cup of coffee in his hand. He talked and shook hands and nodded to one and all. He had another lawyer with him, but that guy sat looking through papers in the back of the room. Peregrine added a bit more interest to his face then moved to sketch a couple who’d just sat down.
He wasn’t going to pull out the paint until the meeting started. Fewer people would move around after that.
--
Kurt breathed deeply in an effort to look calm. He had just fought off another attempt to regulate the amount of visitors each condo could receive in a month. Now he needed to fight back. He checked the wording on the brief the homeowner’s rights lawyer had written. Then he stood. He could do this. He could protect his freedom at the freedom of his friends. He had the power in his hands and voice. He wasn’t going to let anyone down.
--
Emil squeezed his hands together and tried to sit still. But both his men were at their best. How was he supposed to sit still when he wanted to cheer?
Peregrine painted the room on a wide short canvas. Kurt was right; Peregrine was really beautiful when lost in his work. Every movement was graceful, sexy, tempting. Emil had a brief flash of what it felt like to be under that concentrated gaze. He discretely adjusted himself.
And Kurt’s strong voice carried well over the assembled group without rising in volume. The lights shone on his pale blond hair and gave him a halo. He was an angel. A big, strong, muscular angel who was going to save even the people who didn’t realize they needed saving. The longer he talked, the more people nodded in agreement. Emil nodded too.
The changes Kurt proposed made sense. Twelve and a half percent of the residents shouldn’t be allowed to make changes that affected the other seven-eighths. Picking the color of a rug or buying new furniture for the common spaces was one thing, blocking invited guests from entering a condo was completely different.
When Kurt finished his monologue, he answered questions, many from people that had nodded as he spoke. He had a lot of people on his side when he began and more by the time questions were over. When the time came to vote, Emil held up his hands with the others.
Kurt grinned at him. The cheesecake cooling in the fridge wasn’t enough for his men. He had to think of something better, and quickly because Peregrine flew back to California tonight. Emil licked his lips. He knew what he wanted.
--
Kurt stepped in the room and looked down at sleeping Emil. Kurt and Peregrine had kissed him goodbye before Kurt drove Peregrine to the airport. Emil had been barely awake then. Now he was sleeping deeply, like a handsome Sleeping Beauty. Kurt wanted to wake him up and continue to show him how happy his praise had made him, but Emil needed be up and dressed before the construction crew arrived. Kurt pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. His pants followed and he slid beneath the sheets. Emil sighed and snuggled against him, which made Kurt not what to let Emil sleep even more.
He ran his fingers through Emil’s hair. Was Peregrine right? Was something on Emil’s mind? But if it was, it hadn’t damped Emil enthusiasm in bed. Emil sighed Kurt’s name. Kurt smiled down at him. Maybe he’d wake up and make that an invitation or maybe he’d stay asleep, his head against Kurt’s chest. Either way Emil was Kurt’s slice of heaven on earth.
--
Peregrine sat his bag down and stared at Dad. “How did your exercises go?”
Tinúviel held up her brush and ponytail holders. “Daddy didn’t do them.”
Peregrine set his baby sister on a stool and brushed out her long hair. Mom scurried around the kitchen. School started in a half an hour and no one was ready. Five minutes later, the house settled down to just Peregrine and Dad. Peregrine picked up the top book on the pile beside Dad. “How much does it hurt?”
Dad lowered his book. “Does what?”
“How much does not being able to do what you used to do hurt? So much you want to give up trying? Or only enough that you want to work hard to get what you can back?”
Dad stared out the window. “The doctors say I might only recover to seventy percent.”
“And what are you now? Thirty?”
Dad shrugged.
“Is being in a wheelchair really better that having your kids see you use a walker?”
Dad turned away. “What would you know about it anyway?”
Peregrine sat down beside Dad. “I know what it’s like to be less than myself. You wouldn’t have recognized me if you’d seen me seven years ago.” He closed his eyes. “Or even seven months ago. I’m whole. Finally. But it takes effort and hope.”
“Hope?”
Peregrine patted Dad’s arm. “Emil brought me to life and Kurt gave me hope that I could be that person I’d thought was broken forever.”
Dad turned to Peregrine. “One wasn’t enough.”
Peregrine shook his head. “That’s too much of a burden for any one person. Mom can keep you alive. The kids can give you reasons to want to get better. And I’ll believe in you until that want turns to hope. You will be up and running around in no time.”
Dad pulled papers out of the bottom of the stack. “You do it. I can’t on my own.”
So Peregrine stretched out the muscles and tendons around Dad’s ankle and pretended he didn’t see the tears of pain. And he kept his head down so Dad didn’t see his wet eyes either.
--
Emil tried to be patient, but having construction workers, polite as they may be, troop through his house was much more annoying that having them come and go unseen. Maybe they should have asked for the master bath to be done last.
He stopped trying to write and gathered up laundry for a load. One of the construction workers stopped dead and stared. He turned to the foreman. The foreman tapped his back and the young man started moving again, but he shot Emil one more look before he stepped in what had been Peregrine’s studio. Now what was that about? And did it have anything to do with the foreman looking familiar?
--
Kurt looked up when Beka knocked on his open office door. He waved her and Veronica in. She bit her lip and looked at the floor. Veronica rolled her eyes and sat down in a stair, doing all those sit down things his mother had taught his sister to do like smoothing her skirt and perching at the edge. “Kurt, we need a favor.”
Beka shook her head. “Don’t put it like that.”
“It is like that.” Veronica turned back to Kurt. “We are meeting a client for lunch—”
“And,” said Beka, “under other circumstances we wouldn’t ask you to do something that isn’t you job.”
Veronica held up her hand. “I’ve got this. You can go fret about being a good feminist later. Kurt, we… I was wondering whether you would care to join us for a client meeting this afternoon.”
“You don’t have to,” said Beka.
Veronica rolled her eyes. “To put it bluntly: Our client is a pure gentleman when men are present, but he’s handsy with just women and we could file a claim against him or we could just invite a man along.”
Kurt frowned. “Does the company know?”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to work for a company that let their workers get harassed.
“This client is fine along as he brings a man with him, but as he’s the company owner, he doesn’t always. And Chambers was scheduled to go with us, but he’s sleeping off a hangover in his office. We want someone who will pay attention and keep the client on the straight and narrow. We can’t think of a better gentleman than you.”
Kurt grinned at the compliment. “Thank you. I would love to join you for lunch.”
Beka bit her lip. “It’s going to be a long lunch.”
“Beka! Don’t talk him out of it!”
Kurt nodded. “I’ve always wondered what these meeting were like. Thank you for the invitation.”
“Thanks, so much. We’ll come and get you at eleven thirty.” Veronica popped up from her chair. That would have earned his sister a lecture from their mother.
As they left Beka whispered, “Shouldn’t we have dealt with this ourselves?”
Veronica turned to her. “Using the right tool for the right job is dealing with this ourselves.”
And then she grinned at Kurt. He was glad to be of service.
--
Peregrine followed Mom into the kitchen. She glanced back into the dining room where Dad slept fitfully and then looked at her hands. “I… I can’t do this alone. I can’t make him hurt to make him better. I just can’t.”
Peregrine rubbed Mom’s back. “I’ll find someone to take my place when I’m gone.”
She shook her head. “No one will ever take your place.”
Peregrine smiled and passed Mom a tissue. “I know how you feel, but someone needs to motivate him when I’m not here.”
“But he won’t want some stranger to see him like that. The physical therapists are bad enogh. You know how he always wants to be strong and tough. This accident is making him feel… wimpy.”
“He is being strong. I’m going out for a while. I’ll find someone Dad will accept.”
Mom pressed her lips together. “I hope so.”
“Believe in me, Mom.” Peregrine squeezed her hand. “I’ve got this covered.”
And he knew exactly who to ask first.
