kersen | James

Kersen was... nervous, which he knew was completely silly. But it had been such a long time since he'd been on a date like this. Even though he and Klaus had gone on dates, it was after they'd already slept together.

He took a lot of care with his appearance. Dressed as a boy, but with his typical androgynous flair. Some makeup, mostly his eyes, and a pair of trousers that he knew made his ass look amazing. Also the cashmere scarf that James had admired.

James had offered to come to his house, so when the doorbell rang he managed to clamp down the butterflies, and answered the door, a smile already on his face.

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"You don't look so bad yourself," Kersen said, as they got into the cab. "So... where are we going?"

"A private winetasting in an estate jyst outside of town," James replied. "If we are only having wine, we might as well have good wine."

"That sounds perfect," said Kersen. And it was such a thoughtful idea from James, a wine tasting, no need to worry about him not eating. Plus, he loved wine. "I'm really happy to be with you tonight."

James smiled a thin smile. "As am I," he assured. "I trust you've been alright these past weeks?"

Kersen nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, I've been okay. I mean, I confess I was still kind of out of sorts for a bit after new years, but... I'm at peace with it. And glad to just set it aside and move on."

Part of him had been surprised not to hear from Klaus. He'd thought he might at least... call to apologize. The fact that he didn't just made Kersen more sure that he'd been right, that it was all an act. And for a few days, this had made him feel even worse. And he might have wallowed a bit longer if it weren't for James, but hearing from him to set up a date had been a reminder that what had happened was on Klaus. And that though Kersen might have been stupid, it didn't mean that he was undesirable.

James was assured that this was not a rebound situation, but he thought taking things slow was a right way about it. First and foremost for his own sanity; he hadn't done anything of this kind since the thirties. It was for that reason, though, that he didn't pry about the details of this relationship he was apparently over. "That's good. It never pays to mull over lost..." Loves? "Affairs."

Kersen nodded. "It doesn't."

And he definitely didn't add that the other thing that helped him feel better was Hex fucking him into oblivion.

"Can you tell me something about how you've been?" he asked.

"Oh, I've had some interesting paintings cross my path," James said, carefully. He did not mention where they came from, who brought them over, and for how much money he auctioned them at the black market. "I was fortunate enough to be allowed a few days with them to study them before they were sold into a private collection."

"Oh?" A smile lit on Kersen's lips. "Tell me about them."

James didn't require additional incentive to begin talking about the two paintings and - without mentioning the artist - delved into his research and the analysis that he had been able to make.

By the time he was done, the cab had arrived to their destination. "I'm afraid you'll have to stop me if I bore you," he warned. "I can get carried away."

Kersen had enjoyed hearing him talk; even if he hadn't been interested in art (which he was), there was always something nice about such entthusiasm. It could make any topic interesting, and Kersen wanted to know more about him.

"I will," Kersen promised him, before climbing out, "but you won't."

James smiled. He paid the cabbie, then got out of the car, and opened Kersen's door too, offering a hand to help him out. "We're just in time," he said, pleased about their timeless.

What a gentleman. Kersen beamed at him as he took his hand and got out of the car. "Wonderful," he said. "I've been looking forward to this all day." Not just the wine, but the company.

"Good," James said and he did even offer his arm as they walked up to the house. "I don't know the host intimately," he explained. "She's a friend of an acquaintance. But we have met on a few occasions and she knows her wines, that is certain."

"Oh, very good," Kersen said, and was glad to hear this was someone James knew. Though Kersen had gotten to a point where he didn't care as much what other people thought, if James really had never been on a date with a man... well, there were still stupid people in the world.

James was reserved, but not ashamed. He had never dated a man simply because he had stopped dating in the forties. Kersen was an exception, who knew about James' condition and therefore understood more about James than the average person.

When they walked up to the house, James let go of Kersen and rang the door. A butler opened for them and showed them in, after some brief introduction.

It was a private setting, but not a small group. In the library where they were lead, some twenty-odd other guests were getting acquainted. "You will be asked to thenect room in fifteen minutes. The hostess will be here shortly."

"Very formal," Kersen murmured to James. It had been a while since he'd seen a butler.

"As long as the wine is good," James said. "Money and taste don't always mix."

Kersen chuckled. "Isn't that the truth. Do you know anyone else here?"

"Vaguely," James said.

"Mr. Pritchard!" Someone then said. "Oh, how nice to see you again. Do you remember me? Jane Wel-"

"Welton, yes I remember. You bought the Connor apples."

"Beautiful. Perfect for the hallway." She eyed Kersen curiously as she spoke.

"The hallway. Of course." James could hardly keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Kersen smiled politely. "There always seems to be just the perfect place for artwork, doesn't there?"

"Yes," Came Jane's enthusiastic reply, at the same time James invisibly sighed. The hallway was not a place for that painting at all. Might as well hang a Picasso in the bathroom.

"Have you ever been to his gallery? It's quite a treat, isn't it?"

"It is," Kersen said, glancing at James. "He has remarkable taste. In fact, I have something from his gallery hanging in my sewing room." He thought fondly of the peacock painting, and realized that he hadn't shown James yet. He'd had to do some shifting around of art to get it where he wanted it.

That particular peacock in the sewing room of a drag queen was perfect and James smiled briefly in appreciation. "Ah, of course. Hard to resist, is he not? But is it charm, or cunning?" she said, with a bit of a cheeky smile.

"That rather depends on the visitor," James deadpanned.