It's morning, and Martin has gotten up sometime early, probably around dawn, given that he's bathed and dressed, and there is a loaf of bread and sliced cheese on a wooden trencher, already nipped into, for breakfast. It rests on the table in the corner, where Martin sits in one of the chairs, reading over a tattered piece of paper, frowning faintly.

Serendipity slept poorly to begin with, fighting off dreams which led to tears and restlessness, all unconscious, and it's no wonder Martin's chosen to let the kin stay abed a bit longer. Ren's gradual wakefulness is signaled by an incoherent, questioning little noise of confusion as he discovers that he's in a bed that isn't his, and =no-one else is=, and then his sitting up, blinking blearily at the place. The moment he remembers things is still visible, but passes quicker, at least, and the smile when he sees Martin at the table is drowsy but genuine. "...'mornin', han'some," he murmurs sleepily, and stretches, rubs the sleep from his eyes. "...whatcha lookin' at?"

Martin glances up and offers Ren a warm smile that's tainted with a touch of concern. "Nicholas passed away last night. You didn't meet him, I'm afraid. He's been bedridden for the past fortnight." He sets the letter aside. "Do you want some breakfast? There's tea in the kitchen."

Serendipity tilts his head a little. "'m sorry. Friend of yours?" He rises and pads around behind the trader, rubbing his shoulders and leaning forward to give him a little kiss. "...an' yeah, thanks, I'd love some breakfast. Gotta keep my strength up, right?"

Martin lays a hand over Ren's, giving it a squeeze. "He was a man living in the poor farm. He caught a chill last Wint, and he never did fully recover." Rising, he turns to give Ren a kiss, then makes his way toward the kitchen. "They've laid him in state in the foyer. I've been asked to come perform the rites at his funeral." He pours a cup of tea, bringing it in to Ren, pre-sweetened with honey. He then retakes his seat, gesturing to the other chair and the food laid out. "If you'd rather not go, you're not obligated, but of course you're invited."

Serendipity considers this, taking his tea and the indicated seat, and starting in unhurriedly on his breakfast. "...well, 'f it was up t' you, wouldja rather have me there or not? You c'n be honest, I won't be offended if a Nuwisha kin isn't exactly th' first person you'd want hangin' around a funeral." He grins faintly, and eats.

Martin shrugs and says, "You know, I've never met a Nuwisha kin before you." He smiles a little, then grabs a bit of bread, loading on the cheese. "I adore you. I like to have you with me. What's the worst that could happen?"

Serendipity grins almost shyly. "Don't ask, you might find out," he replies wryly, "...but serious, you adore me? 's not somethin' I hear real often." He gets up just enough to lean across and give Martin a little kiss, somehow thoughtful. "An' there aren't a lot of us left, I think, 'least not a lot who know 'bout it, or have it real strong in the blood. We do tend t' get around, though. So maybe you did meet another, an' just didn't know."

Martin returns the kiss lightly, then munches, washing down his bread and cheese with tea. "Of course I adore you," he replies, sounding faintly surprised. "I wouldn't have brought you with me, and I wouldn't share my bed with you, if I didn't, Serendipity." He shrugs then, adding, "If you'd like to come, I'd like it. These people are such an important part of my life and, well. I think that if you wanted to be, you could be, too."

"I'll come," Serendipity agrees, and without even letting a hint of double entendre into it. "An'... maybe I might kinda want to. You got a... thing. Dunno how to explain it, but it's there, an' you have it, an'," slight pause, "..an' Aurelia has it, an' Tristan, an' a few people I useta know, but not many... 's kinda weird, three of you 'round here." He rips off a piece of bread, brow slightly furrowed. "You gotta know, though. I've been mostly tryin' t' be on my best behaviour for you, y'know? Can't do that forever, an'... well." He trails off, dips the bread in his tea, experimentally, and eats it.

Martin arches a brow curiously. "A thing?" He looks genuinely though pleasantly baffled. "The way I figure, you don't seem like the kind of man who would actually want to hurt someone, right?"

Serendipity considers this. "Well, not unless they deserved it. Like that vampire that wanted t' take Tristan back t' his master t' be eaten, an' was threatening t' kill everyone in town startin' with me if Tristan didn't go along with it? Wanted t' hurt =him=," he admits, without much if anything in the way of guilt. "But I wouldn't, y'know, hurt someone just t' hurt them or anything like that."

Martin nods agreeably. "But you wouldn't want to hurt a room full of grieving people," he prompts. "Who were innocent, and never did anything to deserve it." He watches Ren curiously, intently for his response.

Serendipity blinks. "No," he replies, sounding almost hurt for a moment. "I mean, def'nitely not on purpose." He munches on a bit of cheese disconsolately.

Martin smiles suddenly, warm, and he reaches across the table to caress the line of Ren's jaw lightly. "Exactly," he replies. "So why should I hesitate to invite you to something that means a lot to me?"

Serendipity leans into the touch, but seems only mostly convinced. "Well. A lotta people, they figure it's just safer not t' have one of Coyote's around if they c'n help it. A lotta ter- a lotta people dont' want th' risk, an' anyway most 'em don't approve of us much anyhow." He glances at his cheese, and adds with no apparent relevance, "Prolly can't stay in Haven forever. Chances are I gotta move on sooner or later, prolly sooner."

Martin comments quietly, "I'm not most people. Safe is nice, but it's no way to live." He quirks a crooked smile, leaning back to polish off another bit of bread and cheese. "Got any ideas where you want to go?" he asks. "Once the weather turns right, I'll probably be headin' downriver south aways."

Serendipity shakes his head. "Coyote gen'rally lets me know. So maybe I'll go long with you, 'f you'll have me. I'm tryin' t' find out where they went, see. The truebloods. No one's seen any of 'em since th' sun came back."

Martin says mildly, "Ren, of course I would have you. I wouldn't mention it if I didn't want you to come. I'll tell you what, I'll give you my tentative schedule once I'm aware of it, and if you happen to be in the neighborhood, keep an eye out for my tent, hmm?" He gets up to fetch the teapot, then returns to his seat, topping off both cups. "It must be awful," he says quietly. "Not knowing where your people are."

"Well," Ren admits, "I miss th' ones I knew more'n the ones I haven't found yet. When I let m'self think 'bout it too much, anyway. But it's good t' have a goal, y'know? Dunno yet what I'd do if I actually =found= 'em."

Martin says wryly, "You'll know when it happens." He speaks with such simple, undaunted faith. "Besides, sometimes it's the journey that matters as much as the destination."

Serendipity nods. "Yeah, I 'spect so," he agrees, not sounding particularly concerned about the matter, really. He's got a good deal of faith of his own, even if it isn't in the same being. Presumably. "Still, it'll be weird, y'know?"

Martin shrugs and says, "I can't imagine how it wouldn't be. If the avatar of God descended and asked me for a cup of tea, I'm sure it would be at least a touch awkward, if not utterly derailing."

Serendipity grins. "Well, at least you'd prolly have th' tea handy," he remarks, and stands, popping a final bite of bread in his mouth before he insinuates himself into Martin's lap and gives him a good, long kiss. "...G'morning," he repeats, once he's done.

Martin leans back to make lap space, circling his arms around Ren's waist as he leans into the kiss, nice and content. "Mmm, mornin,'" he agrees. The kin gets a light squeeze, and then Martin's arms loosen so that he's still held but could rise if he wanted with no trouble. "Couldn't get much better."

Serendipity doesn't seem to want to; he rests his head on Martin's shoulder, instead, and sighs, closing his eyes. It's a very strange combination halfway between contentment and regret. "'s nice," he agrees, "... guy could get useta it."

Martin runs his fingers through Ren's hair, stroking the strands and untangling them carefully. "Any reason you can't?" he asks nonchalantly.

Serendipity is quiet for a while, but eventually answers, quietly. "...I dunno. Last time I did, it..." Another sigh, this one purely dejected. "Don't wanna feel like this again. Don't wanna end up doin' somethin' like that to you, either. I dunno."

Martin draws Ren closer, his expression nigh pathetic in its sorrow. He kisses the kin softly, then rests his head against his temple. "Then let's just have what we have," he suggests quietly. "With no expectations. Every morning I wake up with you in my arms, it's a good morning, and for that I'm grateful."

Serendipity tries to slide his arms around Martin, difficult as thechair makes it, and squeezes. "...you're so nice t' me," he replies, finally, rather rueful. "...almost makes me feel guilty."

Martin laughs lightly and asks, "Why guilty?" He angles head so that he can look at Ren, his usually preoccupied gaze gone focused and soulful. "I like being nice to you, Ren. I treat you the way I'd like to be treated, with respect and dignity. Is there any reason I shouldn't offer to you the same thing I would ask for myself?"

Serendipity half-smiles. "I dunno. 's just how it is." He shrugs a little. "...wanna know more 'bout you," he says, suddenly. "Tonight, after this stuff, we c'n come back, an' just... you c'n tell me stuff?"

Martin says amiably, "Sure, anything you want." Wryly, he warns, "I haven't had that interesting of a life, but you're welcome to know anything about it you want to. Trust me, even if I tried to dress it up, it won't be very thrilling."

Serendipity nuzzles against Martin's neck a little, absently. "...d'you have any kids?"

Martin mms quietly at the nuzzling, and he returns the favor shamelessly as he says, "I don't, no." He sounds regretful, wistful as he says, "I wouldn't mind it, someday. I was pretty careful before about not making any."

Serendipity nods a touch. "I got some. Five, far's I know. Sera, Teo, Terra, Lucian, an' Joy. Two boys an' three girls. Kinda hopin' someday I'll get t' actually, y'know... raise some. I'm =s'posta= have kids, keep the blood around, y'know?" He sounds strangely sad about it.

Martin's brows lift in surprise. Clearly, he did not take Ren for a fatherer of children. But then his guileless face breaks into a broad grin, and Ren gets another hug for his troubles. "Five?" says wistfully. "Joy's such a pretty name, too. All of them are. You're young, yet. You could have more. I'd have them myself except that, well." His cheeks color a little. "The Maker in His wisdom saw fit to make me a man."

Serendipity laughs, a sudden, startled, delighted laugh that briefly chases the melancholy away completely, and catches Martin's cheeks up in his hands, giving him a deeply felt kiss. "Well, last I looked 'round Haven, that seemed t' be fixable," he teases, and then adds a little more seriously, but warmly, "...that's parta it, though, right there. You s'prise me."

Martin grins, once the kiss dwindles, and he certainly doesn't hurry that at all. "Well, if you ever knock me up, I'll be sure to let you know," he promises solemnly, grinning with untoward delight. "And good. I'm glad I'm not boring and predictable."

Serendipity grins back, and tilts his head to flick the tip of his tongue over the shell of the trader's ear. "So..." he murmurs playfully, "I know we got things t' do an' all, but whaddaya think, I got time to give it a try?"

That gets a little whimper out of the man, and he goes a little melty, but not so much his hold on Ren slips. "Rascal," he accuses quietly, tilting his head to steal another kiss. "You know it won't work." He glances toward the unmade bed thoughtfully. "Though I suppose there's never any harm in trying."

"Practice makes perfect, I always heard," Ren replies innocently, though the grin accompanying it is anything but. He slips to his feet, and takes hold of one of Martin's hands, pulling him gently back toward the bed. "An' anyway, you never know unless you try..."

Martin steps toward the bed, letting Ren lead him without protest. "I'm not sure I want to get pregnant," he says warily. "Not in this body. I don't have the right plumbing." He then shivers a little and mumbles, "God be with me." Apparently, the visual just hit him, hard.

Serendipity laughs again, and tugs Martin after him, onto the bed. "Well, y'know. Just in case either of us turns into a chick somehow, we oughta be sure we're prepared..." Any other comments on the matter will have to wait, since his mouth is occupied with kissing again, and even if he knows some sort of sign language, his hands have things to do as well.

The big man manages to squeak, "Be gentle with me," before tumbling onto the bed, taking care to hold himself up in such a way as to not put too much weight on his vile seducer. For all his misgivings, he certainly doesn't seem to mind this trial run, keeping both mouth and hands quite occupied for some time.