He had no idea what it meant to be 'on' all the time, but there had been a refreshing lack or need of wanting something out of each other. Come to think of it out of the people he'd met, he'd let Ceph closer than an arm's length lately despite not knowing each other so well - and from the look on the other wizard's face he was going to sink this faster than a stone in a lake. Think. Put up a front, salvage this, laugh it off?

In front of Johann, Elixa, his parents - hell, even his own old classmates - he'd do those things.

In front of Cepheus, he covered his face with his hand, weary of himself and all the facades he pretended was him. "I did guess. I did understand. I mean, I can be oblivious at times but there's a point where it all surpasses obliviousness. I'm flattered, honestly. That you like me enough to really like me, that you... want me to be a part of your life. Can you tell?" He took his hand off his face. Some people who thought they would have truly known Arc would be surprised to see the exasperated, half-twisted smile playing on his lips. "That I'm awkward at this? Painfully aware of it."

He dropped his hand and the bad smile. Sincerity, proper genuine truth. Out with it now, or never. "I enjoy the times I've spent with you. More than I admitted back then. No, it wasn't rushed - I hope not!" His eyes wandered to the gifts they had exchanged.

"I'm sorry. That was a stupid question fuelled by my own doubts. And to answer you - yes." He didn't look back at Ceph because his face was heating up so far it had reached his ears. "It's mutual. I-I do. Feel the same, I mean." He was stumbling over his own words now, because saying it was very different from thinking or feeling it. "I-I do, like you. In your words, like... like. I... I knew you did. I just... I suppose I'm just bad enough at expressing it that you, you thought it wasn't the same."

“… can you tell… that I’m awkward at this? Painfully aware of it.”

Arcturus didn’t realise he wasn’t the only one in the room feeling that way. Claude was only interested in knocking the crap out of the ribbon and torn up wrapping paper, which left…

Cepheus waved a hand to dismiss the suggestion Arc was poor at expressing his interest.
“You weren’t, I’ve just learned not to assume.” He smiled a little more easily now, knowing where they stood - well, sat.

With rosy cheeks, pleased at this new development between them, Cepheus shuffled a little on the sofa cushion, and nodded to the framed poster. “I thought it might go nicely at home, bring a smile to your face even if you didn’t have time to put on the records.”

Arc had very kindly loaned Cepheus an album or two so he could compare the live renditions. He’d been careful with them and returned them next they’d seen each other over the summer, making sure to comment on the songs he’d particularly enjoyed.

The anxiety of asking was passing, replaced by more smiles. Ceph’s gaze lingered ever so slightly longer as he looked from Arc and away again, his heart lifting in his chest as he did.

“Maybe one day we’ll get over to Ireland, see them perform again.” He shrugged, tentative about committing too much. They’d already spoken about going to Ireland, back on the night they’d seen the band perform, but Cepheus had discovered that it was best to take everything at a sedate pace with Arc. It was fortunate Cepheus was a patient sort.

It had felt like an eternity since they had spoken about going to Ireland. His gaze drifted away as he recalled. As much as the idea would delight him, the future was uncertain. Only the now mattered, and that had been cleared up well enough.

"Maybe," he echoed in agreement, shrugging. "Who knows what might happen? All I know is, you're right in saying that this poster will find a good place to hang in the flat." If Elixa still insisted on keeping that St Mungo's charity calendar around, he might as well join in on his own.

A thought occurred to him and before he could hesitate to assume the answers he asked, "I don't suppose you expected that to be... anytime soon, did you?" He blinked. "Just curious. Just wondering about expectations. You don't have to entertain that question, I've just met enough people who, you know, do. Have expectations." To stop himself from talking he took another mouthful of mead, shaking his head at himself. Sorry, was the only thing he had for Ceph, internally.

“Oh, gosh…” Cepheus looked upwards, “I can’t say I’ve got a date in mind for such adventures, no!” He gave a more exaggerated shrug and smiled. “Maybe we could plan something for the spring, or the summer? Doesn’t it rain a lot in Ireland, a lot like Wales?”

Cepheus would be the first to admit his knowledge of Irish weather and climate wasn’t top notch. He assumed it was much like Britain with its plentiful grey days and gallons of rain.

“But I’m curious…” he asked the fellow Ravenclaw, leaning back on the sofa, but turning a little more towards Arc, ”…what are your… ‘expectations’?” He sipped, and added, “I mean, not necessarily Ireland, but… this… us?”

Well that felt odd and new in his mouth.

Well if that didn't cut off his anxiety and morph it into a new one. But it was a valid question to the analytical mind, and so he lowered the glass to avoid any absent-minded spilling.

What did he expect? He only had so much to go off on. Arc's gaze settled on Ceph, if subconsciously at the least - he thought better when the matter he was thinking about was in sight in some fashion. "I... I'm not quite sure if it's anything to go by, but I'd take it easy. I'm not-- I've not been in a great place lately, and I'd rather not talk freely about my problems." The word problems was a vast umbrella in this case, but he wasn't going to elaborate. "Some things, anyway."

What did he really expect? "You can come visit if you want, anytime - Rustle still thinks you're a little suspicious and only treats you nicely because I do. If he had his way he'd stick a couple of claws into you as a reminder." He shook his head, smiling a little at the thought. "I'm honestly the kind of person who takes a while to open up and trust, for... reasons. I get that that puts some people off." Oh yes. He glanced away. "And I'm not a very physical person, but I try to be. Um."

The wizard shrugged. "That's all I can think of. It might help if you share your thoughts on the matter?" He was guessing Cepheus would have far more definite ideas about what he wanted.

Cepheus nodded quietly, paying proper attention. Proper attention to Arcturus. Arcturus, Ceph’s … boyfriend? They seemed far too old to call it that!

“I’m sorry you’re going through stuff, Arc.” Ceph acknowledged, with concern on his brow. “I hope that I can be there for you, and that maybe I can share them with you if it helps.” He reached out gently to Arc’s nearest shoulder, and placed his fingertips upon it for a few seconds before withdrawing.

“I’d love to visit, come by for a cup of tea and see you. Perhaps I can convince Rustle, though he probably smells Claude all over me.” The black and white cat in question brushed up against Ceph’s calf, his long tail curling over the edge of the coffee table. Claude was sniffing out what was on the table, whiskers stretching forwards.

“I get the physical bit,” he added more softly. “You can set the pace.” The hand that had briefly touched Arc now combed through his thick black hair. “It’s been a while since I was last in a relationship, so we’ll both feel our way - or, hah, not, well you know.” Cepheus realised his phrasing.

“You’re always welcome here too. I’d love that, actually.” Evenings in curled up with Arc. Or perhaps cooking together, or going out for a meal and coming back and cuddling up. It had been so long since he’d done that sort of thing.

It was comforting to know someone was there, and yet at the same time frightening in a sense, that Cepheus might end up knowing some of his issues. But that was an assumption made, and Arc had lately been telling himself to stop assuming things, if because it was for a more positive attitude when he got up in the morning. He only hoped it would not be too much for both of them, and secretly knew he appreciated Ceph extending a hand to him on that subject.

"I don't think Rustle cares about Claude," he mused, taking a break from all of that. His kneazle was usually an easier topic to discuss - the feline had no shortage of things to talk about, if he became a conversation subject. "If he did, he would be less pleased about me coming here. He'll take his time, but he does tend to trust faster based on what I do to y-- err, for you." No idea what had happened there.

"I do have fairly busy evenings and nights," he said, still thinking aloud. "But I'll let you know. It's not always emergencies or being on call - sometimes I have to take graveyard shifts before my off-days. They are scheduled in advance, unless I take an extra shift for research purposes. So, Sundays, that sort of thing, but I'm trying to cut back a little." He glanced down at where Cepheus had laid his hand on his shoulder, but didn't show any opposition to it. "I've decided I like to sleep in, these days. But I do... I would like to come drop by here. Once in a while."

He smiled wryly. "No more early Sundays when we went to the book fair now, is it."

Arcturus sounded so very busy with his shifts. Cepheus kept mostly office hours with the occasional call out. Beings were much more sentient and organised than Beasts were when it came to disasters and emergencies. But he couldn’t help but feel a little worried they’d never see each other as Arcturus listed things out.

“I’ve decided I like to sleep in these days. But I do… I would like to come drop by here. Once in a while. No more early Sundays when we went to the book fair now, is it.”

“Well…” Cepheus replied letting his head take a tilt, “maybe I can still treat you to breakfast… but perhaps in bed some point in future.” He knew it was a far hope right now, but now that they’d both agreed they were a ‘thing’ they could explore such possibilities.

“Do you, er, do you fancy a smoke?” He asked, the anxiety of asking now turning into not quite knowing what he could say or do, like a tightrope walker. He knew he should just be himself, but he suddenly felt the need to be busy doing something.

A minute later, Cepheus pulled the front door to behind them, and gestured to offer a light to Arc from the tip of his wand. It was dark outside, though Ceph’s windows threw a little yellow light onto the steps below. Beyond the archway between the buildings, the lamps hung in the alley lit the wet cobbles. It had been lightly raining all afternoon, but had let up not long ago. The grey clouds allowed brief glimpses of the waxing crescent moon and starry sky. The florist below perfumed the air.

“I should have got you flowers too.” Cepheus mused. “I’d like to get you flowers one day.” He explained, looking up at Arc. “Do you have favourites?”

It was a strange feeling to have agreed so casually to such a feeling - strange enough that he returned to the thought after following Cepheus out onto his doorstep and absently let him light his terrible choice of cigarette without hesitating. He didn't immediately draw upon it for the usual lungful - rather he looked out and away. The earthy tones below were distinct on a cold night like this, though not as strong as it would've been on a summer night.

"Sorry? Flowers?" Arc opened his mouth to answer immediately and then stopped himself. Normally he would have usually come up with any random flower, but this wasn't small talk with a patient's kin. "I've never really considered a favourite flower. They are all wonderful in their own right." He shared a small smile. "I tend to approach plants from a utilitarian point of view, and if there are beautiful flowers, I appreciate them all. The florist downstairs reminds me of the smell of freshly turned dirt more often than not."

One hand waved down in the direction of the florist, while his eyes glanced that way. "It's not a good answer, I admit, if you were considering getting flowers - but I've rarely been given flowers. The last time I was given a bouquet I had to ask my mother if it was significant in any way."

Arc looked back up at Ceph. "Obliviousness costs me at times," he said meekly. "Do you have a favourite? I would probably end up extolling the virtues of the plant except for the flower, but I'll try to refrain from going too far. Stop me if I do, please."

“Hah, no not everyone has a favourite flower.” Cepheus agreed, blowing smoke up into the damp night air. “My mother always taught us Gamp boys to learn a lady’s favourite. Living above Floriblunders keeps it at the forefront of my mind.” He raked his fingers through his hair again, self-conscious.

“I’d give them just because.” He explained, gently nudging Arc’s shoulder with his own, drawn to trying to get a little closer in the cold. “Not just your birthday, or valentine’s day.” He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and inhaled.

“I don’t think I do have a favourite, you know. If we’re being honest. Whatever’s seasonal. I’ve got some geranium window boxes, not that you can really see them at night.” He’d felt it was only proper to have some flowers out his living room windows given they were right above a florist’s mighty display below. At nights, of course, the pavement was clear and swept clean, but by day the shop spilled out onto the cobbles.

“I won’t stop you,” Ceph grinned, “you know plants from an entirely different angle than aesthetics, I appreciate. You’re just as welcome to tell me about it given I would tell you chapter and verse of my specialism.” He inhaled again and then held his hand just aside his face, blinking gently.

“You alright?”

He felt the heat rise in his face at the suggestion of flowers on his birthday. "The only person who's given me flowers on my birthday, so to speak, is my mother," he said teasingly. "It was more a whole plant, but it still counts since it flowers nearly all the time."

The healer absently moved closer, though mostly to lean against the railing as well since lounging around outside while smoking came naturally to him like he was meant to do it his whole life. "Oh yes, it does slip my mind that you're also a massive bookworm. No, I'd still rather not spout out knowledge as if I'm a enchanted version of A Medical Insight on Valerian Root and Its Uses Through the Medieval Ages, it's a bad habit. You're enabling me, Ceph." The last sentence was half-jokingly said. "I need a normal life. One not divorced from books, but not one so married to them either. I'm trying."

He looked up in surprise at the question. "Alright? Yes, why? If it's about the night or darkness, well..." Arc looked up at the sky, leaning back against the railing with both arms as cigarette smoke trailed upwards from the glowing ember between his fingers.

"There's a star standing here with me," he said, before he could stop himself from thinking over saying it, "and it makes the night not so bad after all."

“…You’re enabling me, Ceph.”

In the dark, Cepheus grinned. He wanted to enable Arc to be himself!

“There’s a star standing here with me, and it make the night not so bad after all.”

“Oh!” Cepheus blushed, dipping his head briefly at this explanation. “If I am a celestial being then that makes us a pair if my astronomy is to be recalled.” For both of them had names that also belonged to stars.

In the dim light, faces half thrown in shadow, there was a certain anticipation and electricity. It was the same as that night he’d left Arcturus on the doorstep after their walk home. The sort that made Cepheus feel light on his feet as if he were dancing on his tiptoes.

“Arc?” He asked gently, but directly, closing the space between them, affably. He remembered the healer’s wish to take things slowly, but also felt that the time might be right to venture, “I’d rather like to kiss you.” He paused a beat, making eye contact in the dark, “May I, if that’s alright with you?”

That was true about their names, Arc mused. He hadn't realised it until the other wizard had brought it up. Wizarding families did so love their astronomy, though it was also in part because Arcturus's name was Greek and his fairly Greek mother tended to have a hefty say in the names of her children.

“Arc?” The healer looked over, moving his cigarette from one hand to the other to avoid burning Cepheus by accident. “I’d rather like to kiss you.”

“May I, if that’s alright with you?”

In the dark he could see the dim light reflected in Cepheus's eyes. Such bright, kind eyes - a window into the soul, and he did not doubt for once that this was true of Ceph's. He felt his breath catch in his throat, his heart beat a little faster, and he could feel himself warming up to the request that was so gently made of him after they had spoken about it. In his chest he felt the pull, the little tug that answered the question even without him thinking it over.

Normally, he would have thought it over. Normally he would have answered first.

He smiled and shifted himself towards Ceph, and ever so gently, softly, close enough to smell the mead on the other wizard's breath, their lips met. A feeling of electricity - an old, familiar friend - and the sweet warmth of peace, a new and welcome sensation. A little explosion that led the flood in and lifted him up in his chest.

Yes, please.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to answer. The proximity, the lean towards each other came naturally, spontaneously after the polite query. Ceph’s left hand rested lightly upon Arc’s right hip, poised on the balls of his feet, heels lifted, right arm outstretched with lit cigarette.

Head tilted, eyes closed, Cepheus lost himself in the kiss. It lingered. Months of growing closer finally coming together quite literally on the doorstep of 312c. Two stars colliding!

The glowing ember of his half-smoked cigarette descended to the stone steps, and Cepheus closed the small, remaining space between their bodies. Gently, but earnestly, he pressed against Arc, who in turn was leant against the railing behind them.

It felt new, but simultaneously as if he’d kissed Arc’s lips in another life, in another time. The familiarity of a good match that had been meant to be, but only stumbled upon here in the dark December night.

When at last they came up for air, Cepheus blinked his blue eyes open, and inhaled in surprise. He was faintly aware he had dropped his cigarette and held Arcturus in his arms, an entirely unconscious action that had just felt right. For several seconds he gazed back at his new partner’s darker eyes, wondering what now?

“Again?” He whispered in question, so cautious not to spook the wizard he’d felt something for, for so many months since their reunion.

There was something so incredibly... electrifying about Ceph's touch, so much so that somehow the acutely, perpetually aware core of Arc vanished somewhere. No longer watching, no longer bothered, and he embraced it fully into those arms that enveloped him. He was only vaguely aware of the railing behind him.

He did not pull away. Nothing of that sort. Nothing to fear or be afraid of. It felt strange, this warmth, as if he was a little rusty and unfamiliar, but it was a sensation he wanted to pull into him, to gently hold and protect it with all his being. As if it was meant to happen this whole time. Together, alone.

When they broke apart, he had to blink a few times before he took in their surroundings, their world around them, Ceph's arms holding him - and he had responded in kind. His cigarette was still between his fingers in precarious danger of ending with the same fate as the other wizard's, though he was not aware of where the other's vice had gone, but it was the last thing on his mind that somehow still ended up being preserved the way it was.

"If we are stars," he asked, still lightheaded from the euphoria that had swelled from his heart, "does this... make a supernova?"

Later he decided it was the dumbest question he'd ever asked of a partner, let alone a new one he had welcomed into his life, and he didn't regret it one bit.