The wood-panel floor of the treehouse is carefully nestled between the twin trunks of a tree, about ten feet off the ground. A panel in the center of the floor opens to allow a rope to drop down and give access to those welcome.
The house itself is fair-sized and sturdily built, mainly of pine panels. One wall is largely open, covered in metal wire mosquito-screen with two large, thick blankets nailed and tacked as drapes and insulation for the cooler times. This makeshift window faces west, toward the lake, and a section has been carefully cut and taped up to allow access to a wooden windowbox attached outside.
Nearly half the floor -- right up to the trapdoor -- is taken up by the bed, a mattress filled with straw, topped with a thin but soft featherbed, all capped by a large nest of blankets, quilts, and pillows. The other side of the room appears to be mainly the kitchen, such as it is -- a small 'pantry' box of food, a few pans and dishes, and a clay pot redolent of woodsmoke and coal. In the corner away from the window on that side is a very simple wooden box with a lid, and atop that is a cobalt blue wine bottle acting as a vase for random wild blooms. Three rows of shelves line the wall above the cooking area, the vast majority of the space on them covered with carefully arranged shiny baubles of various kinds.
Did someone call for 'tall, dark, and handsome'? Well, dark's fairly well covered, at least. Jet-black hair's pulled into a long, loose tail at the nape of his neck, a few stray strands about the face occasionally drifting into his almost equally dark eyes, the irises of which are a brown deep enough that one needs to look closely to find the pupil. Nut-brown skin that sets off the white of his teeth and eyes -- it could just barely be mistaken for a very deep tan, if one really tried. Tall is a miss; he's still several inches off six feet, and he probably won't ever get there. Handsome... well, not a classic beauty, to be sure, but well-proportioned, with a stunning, frequent grin and deeply expressive features. Slim, but in perfectly good shape.
He's clad in... well, black leather pants. Somewhat faded, well broken in, but nicely cut and really =quite= nicely fitted. A simple cream shirt hangs untucked above them, long sleeved and fastened with a row of small, black stone buttons. Over that, he wears a decidedly well-worn old black trenchcoat, almost too big for him -- the cuffs hang down half-over his hands, when he lets them, and the hem hangs perilously close to his heels. Scuffed black leather boots with worn soles adorn his feet; there's a seemingly random collection of bracelets, all on one wrist, and several piercings along the upper section of each ear -- little silver hoops. His right ear also bears a rather delicate silver earcuff.
He's a big guy -- that's the first impression this man gives. Standing at an even six feet, his build is certainly sturdy, with broad shoulders and beefy arms. There isn't a scrap of fat on him either, and the calloused hands look like they've seen their share of hard work. The second impression he gives is one of youth. His clean-shaven face has a boyish cast, slightly round but with a strong jaw and squarish chin. It's a strange mix of lingering adolescence and budding maturity. His eyes are pale blue, clear and bright, expressive in a way that hints at soulfulness, though he often looks somewhat preoccupied. His tousled blond hair his drawn back in a short tail at the base of his neck, sun-bleached in shades that could only come from nature: the color of honey and wheat sheaves streaked with veins of gold.
His clothing isn't fancy, but he keeps it in good repair, with careful patches covering the places where it's gone threadbare. The black breeches of a dense cotton weave are tight enough to show off the musculature of his legs though loose enough to remain modest. The linen shirt he wears is clean but dingy with age, left unlaced at the collar, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A leather thong around his neck seems weighted down by some kind of pendant, a glimpse of which can be seen through the loose lacing of his shirt. It seems to be made of polished wood, but its shape is indistinct.
With the warming weather, and after the nightmares, Ren's been taking trips of a reasonable length out of town, trying to hunt down leads on his people. He comes back to help with the housebuilding, but it's hard to predict when he'll be about and when not -- not so easy to predict when Martin'll be in Haven rather than Millinockett, either. This last trip's been a couple weeks, but here the kin is, sprawled on his back on the bedding, still in boots and coat and all.
Martin has been helping out when he's in Haven, building on the house, tending to the treehouse so that it doesn't fall into disrepair. There is a newly hung blanket-turned-curtain over the window, and the big man draws himself up the rope ladder with a length of decorative cord to tie back the drapery. The twisted, tasseled thing falls from his grasp as he hoists himself through the trapdoor and sees Ren sprawled on the bedding. "Darling?" he ventures, quietly lest the kin be sleeping.
Serendipity pushes himself up on his elbows, eyes springing open, and he breaks into a hugely bright, if slightly weary, grin at the sight of his boyfriend. "Hiya, ves'tacha," he greets, pushing further up toward seated.
Martin nudges the cord aside with his foot and makes his way toward the bedding, not bothering to wait for an invitation before he slides onto the nest, gathering Ren into his arms and responding with a warm, lingering, intent kiss. So much for words. His calloused hands are ink-stained, his body scented faintly of leather and sweat. An interesting mix of laborer and would-be scholar.
Serendipity melts right into the embrace, tension dissipating in a little exhalation before he returns the kiss, just as intently. Forget this sitting up thing. Overrated. Himself, he smells of the dust of the road and his usual slight spiciness. When he eventually allows the kiss to break, he buries his face in the side of Martin's neck for a moment, inhaling, before he looks up to grin at him again. "Smell nice. ...missed you." He steals another kiss, just a quick little thing.
Martin returns the favor, stealing the kiss back before he settles in, drawing Ren to lay against him. Familiar embrace, familiar warm arms and solid chest. "God answers prayers," he murmurs. "I can't describe how happy it makes me to see you again."
Serendipity snuggles in, leaning his head against the larger man's shoulder and closing his eyes. He looks rather like a cat in a sunbeam, with that blissful little smile. "...yeah," he sighs in agreement, just enjoying the feeling for a while. "...mmm." After a couple minutes, one of his hands snakes under Martin's shirt, sliding up his chest to settle just over the blond's heart.
Martin's heartbeat is, as ever, strong and steady. He draws a blanket around Ren's shoulders, snuggling them both into it as he frets softly, "Cold hands." That it's also an excuse to cuddle is neither here nor there, really. He kisses Ren's hair, murmuring against his scalp, "How was your journey?"
Serendipity is all over the cuddling. One would think there were no cuddling to be found anywhere else. "Mm, not bad. Didn't get any good leads... but I did find a guy who useta know a couple truebloods in the Resistance when he was 'bout my age, he told me some stories...." He grins a little, eyes still closed. "Met a lotta people, saw some new places, it was fun. Nice bein' back with you, though. 'bout you? Whatcha been up to?"
Martin chuckles, a sound so low it's felt in the resonance of his chest more than heard. He gives Ren a fond squeeze, uttering a soft and content sigh as he replies, "Nothing terribly exciting. The world continues, the work gets done. The children at the farm keep asking when you're coming back."
Serendipity beams, and his eyes open at that. "Yeah? We better head down there soon, then." A pause, and then a bit teasingly, "...only the children? No one older pinin' away for me?"
Martin snorts a small laugh and admits, "A few pretty girls and a young man with stars in his eyes. I think you're developing a following of your own down there." He doesn't seem terribly ruffled by the prospect. Under the blanket, he casually strokes Ren's back, slow and calm. "I've had to remind them of our church's position on such matters."
Serendipity tries not to look too overly pleased at the reply, though it definitely doesn't make him grin any less. The last comment there gets a quick laugh, and an arched brow. "Oh, yeah? An' what's the church's position?"
Martin regards Ren with about as much severity as a man with such youthful and amiable features can. His tone is serious however as he replies, "That is always important -- especially when temptation compels us to do otherwise -- to understand what we are doing and why. That one must not give in to lust for lust's sake, but rather to remember that the union of two flesh into one is a sacred thing that transcends physical desire."
Serendipity pouts exaggeratedly. "Spoil all my fun," he complains, "Who's gonna risk disappointing =you=?" Martin's neck gets a fond nip, and the hand beneath the shirt wanders idly across warm skin. Not quite so cold hands, now.
Martin clucks his tongue, giving Ren a nuzzle even as he scolds, "It isn't fun to do damage to the souls of oneself or others. I'm not saying they must never express themselves sexually. I only want to make sure they're doing it for the right reasons."
"...so then if it's fun, it must be for the right reasons," Ren concludes brightly, all innocence -- except for the hint of teasing. Logic! A touch more seriously, he inquires, "...didja tell 'em how to tell what the right reasons'd be, or do they hafta guess that themselves?"
Martin gives Ren a Look. He can do stern, when the occasion calls for it. But after the Look, he sighs fondly and kisses Ren's forehead, murmuring, "It has been the topic of many lessons among the adolescent and adolescent-at-heart among the fellowship. Young people do seem to think of little else, but to their credit, they desperately want to get it right."
"I'm willing to tutor some of 'em," Ren replies, playful again. "I've always said if you're gonna do a thing y'might as well try t' get it right..." He grins wickedly at Martin, and wriggles out of the embrace just enough to shed his coat. It seems he's already kicked off his boots at some point in there.
Martin slithers a hand beneath the blanket to give Ren a pinch on his rear as he scolds, "You are a bad man, and I have the distinct feeling letting you 'help' would be paramount to having a... well, having a coyote watch the flock."
Serendipity squeaks briefly at the pinch, turning into a laugh at Martin's comment. "I am," he agrees oh-so-contritely, puppy-eyed, as he slides back into place against the blond, with decidedly more wriggling contact than actually required, "I'm a bad, bad man. ...but I'm so =good= at it."
Martin waggles a finger at Ren, though the difficulty he has in keeping a stern expression shows that the wriggling isn't entirely without effect. "You be good to my fellowship," he murmurs gruffly. "Most of them have lost their way, and they're trying to do the right thing."
Serendipity darts his head in and catches the finger lightly between his teeth, catching Martin's gaze for a moment before he releases the pressure and pulls the finger in a bit deeper, treating it decidedly suggestively. He might well have a reply to the scolding, but apparently there's priority use for his mouth.
Martin watches with rapt fascination, uttering another soft sigh as his lashes lower a touch. "Tempter," he whispers, leaning in to graze the line of Ren's jaw with light kisses before he draws back to watch the kin's lips with particular interest. "You're good, but I hope you know it isn't why I want you."
Serendipity keeps at it for a little bit longer, definitely giving Martin a little show before finally letting him go, and grinning wickedly again. "I know," he murmurs, "...but it doesn't hurt, yeah?" The grin shades down to an almost sheepish little smile. "...anyway. Y'know I try t' do the right thing too, don't you?"
Martin gathers Ren in his arms, his breath just a little quicker than normal as he hugs the kin to him. "I know," he says quietly. "But you know I worry. When you're gone, when I don't know where you are or how you're doing, I'm afraid."
Serendipity cuddles in closer, sliding his arms around Martin in return as best he can. "Mmmm... 'fraid of what, pireno?"
Martin takes a moment to arrange blankets to ensure that no cold draft can reach his Ren, then he settles in, a warm bundle of snuggle that isn't going to get a damned thing done this afternoon and is okay with that. "That you're cold, that you're lonely. That you'll feel despair that will lead you to harm."
"I've been takin' care of myself since I was fourteen," Ren reminds Martin gently, but that doesn't seem to lead to any protests against this coddling. In fact, he only snuggles in closer, nuzzling the larger man. After several moments he adds a bit softer, "...but it's nice t' know you care."
Martin points out softly, "And I've taken care of myself since I was sixteen. That doesn't mean I always did a very good job of it." He cuddles Ren closer, seeming content for the moment to simply hold him, to feel the reality of his presence, his warmth, the scent of him. "Your people are wanderers," he muses. "Mine are... not so much."
Serendipity nods slightly, comfortable and content in Martin's arms. "...makes it easier t' find yours, I s'pose," he remarks. "Think you'll ever try t' go visit 'em? Tell 'em 'bout the farm and your trading an' all?"
Martin shrugs absently. "I don't know," he admits. "Maybe someday. I know they'll do well, and though it would be nice to see them again, they do not need me there." His voice is mild, free of anything resembling resentment or ill will. "I may send a letter to my father, to thank him for the things he taught me that carried me through difficult times."
Serendipity is quiet for a little bit. "Hope I get t' run into my family sometime. They'll like you." He smiles at Martin, adding, "...'f I let you outta my sight someone'll prolly club you over the head an' drag you off for breeding stock." He steals a quick, soft little kiss, and then studies his face a bit, contemplative.
Martin's cheeks flush a touch, and he coughs to clear his throat. "Breeding stock, huh?" he asks awkwardly. "Well, I suppose it's not as bad as the fate that would've befallen the breeding stock I was, ah, bred for." He gazes down at Ren, serene and adoring. "I hope they would like me for more than my pale hair and strong muscles."
"Well, t' start with they'd also like you for your eyes an' the fact that you're ridiculously gorgeous all in all," Ren replies matter-of-factly, "...but then they'd get t' know you, an' who could help but like you?" He gives Martin a somewhat goofy little smile, and snuggles in even closer, almost possessively. A bit unusual for him. "Anyway, you could meet Rain, an' my mom an' sisters. An' nieces an' nephews an' all..."
Martin admits quietly, "I would like that." He then adds, "To meet them, I mean. I'm not sure I would like to be stolen away from my Serendipity." He kisses Ren's hair, one hand casually working at the ponytail to let it loose. "But I would love to meet the people who produced such a remarkable man."
"Oh, I'd steal you right back," Ren assures, quite possibly blushing a bit. He squeezes, suddenly, with all his strength, though not for long. "Mine," he declares, and gives the blond a sheepish grin. "...even if I'm willing t' share."
Martin curls his fingers in Ren's hair, combing the long strands carefully. "All yours," he replies gravely. "Even if I'm occasionally shared. I promise I won't let your family -- or anyone else's -- kidnap me for good."
Serendipity gives his head a shake, helping the hair fall free, silky and cool around Martin's fingers. "Good. Then we're agreed." He sighs contentedly, hands absently wandering over warm, solid muscle. "...gonna be in town long, d'you think?"
Martin watches the way the light plays upon Ren's hair, his fascination with this simple thing never seeming to wane. "I can be," he replies softly. "I arrived yesterday, and we've been redoing the roof on your house-to-be. Made a trip down to Millinocket for some shingling, so we should be able to finish it up this time around."
Serendipity finds that wicked grin again. "Bring any soundproofing material along as well?" he asks, wriggling himself in closer again, hips definitely involved. "Stay 'round a while. Or take me with you, either way. Hell, both if y'want."
Martin snorts quietly and replies, "The walls are plenty thick now, if that's what you mean. Insulated against cold winters, you see." He plays with Ren's hair idly, his tone growing a touch drowsy as the warmth and comfort begin to remind his body that it's been a long, tiring day. "You can be with me wherever I go, love. I'll be here til we finish the roof at least. Then maybe you can come down to the farm with me."
"I don't wanna listen t' Rae an' Danny all the time is what I mean," Ren replies almost prissily, as if they were the only likely source of noise in that house. He grins, then, ducking his head to nuzzle in against Martin again. "Plan, I think. Roof, an' down t' see the farm folks. Yeah..."
Martin sighs, giving Ren a squeeze. "It's so good to have you back. It's like a piece of me has been torn away when you leave. Yet at the same time, I'm happy knowing that you're fulfilling your role in the scheme of things. It's selfish to want you all the time, but that doesn't mean I won't covet the chances to have you to myself."
Serendipity leans up and kisses Martin soundly by way of reply, for a good long time. =Quite= a long and throrough time. It says clearly enough that he's glad to be back, too. When he finally lets Martin go, he murmurs, "...got me t' yourself now, y'know. Whatcha gonna do with me?"
Martin is, in his heart, a lazy beast. He's warm, comfortable, cuddled up to the man he loves. The kiss, however, stirs a little more than an interest in creature comforts. Arching a pale brow, he regards Ren thoughtfully before drawing him up to lay atop him, sliding his fingers into his hair to pull him down for another kiss. "Allow me to demonstrate..."