"Join me for dinner tonight.”

Barnaby hadn't even hesitated in his whispered reply. Their encounter on stage at the award ceremony had been brief - surrounded by cheering crowds as well as an adoring public - and gave the journalist only enough time to confirm with a pleased,

"Of course."

After the whirlwind of performances at the ♡ Love Contest, Barnaby had gone home to refresh from the day's events: he showered, he changed into something a little less theatrical, spritzed on his lavender and sandalwood cologne. Several hours later, he found himself on a familiar elevator heading up to Mars' penthouse.

As Barnaby was lifted to the higher floors of their apartment complex, his mind drifted to thoughts of that night. A glance was spared to the corner, where he vividly remembered a crumpled Martín del Mar, slumped over himself with clothes coated in blood. That had been a hard thing to see.

But what followed after was revelational. Their relationship had shifted after that night, and they were still navigating that shift even now. Perhaps that was why Barnaby felt both elation and a prickle of nerves as the elevator doors slid open, revealing Martín del Mar on the other side.

"Martín." He greeted warmly, stepping through the threshold and into the luxurious penthouse. A quick faire la bise was exchanged with the admin, his lips lingering on Mars' cheek for a second longer than what would be customary.

"Thank you for inviting me. I know you've had a long day," Barnaby continued, pulling away. "But I'll admit I was happy to hear you wanted to end it with me."

Martín del Mar
mission: SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

☉

"More hectic? I'm not so sure. You stayed well after closing ceremonies, all all." He responded, continuing with a more teasing lilt. "You'll have to tell me how your meeting with that other journalist went, by the way."

Barnaby accepted Mars’ offered hand, following him further into the penthouse. As most would do when coming to a friend's home for the first time, Barnaby took a moment or two to look around and examine his surroundings. He appreciated the clean lines, the luxurious finishes - in that regard, the space reminded him of his own home.

When they entered the dining area it took only seconds for Barnaby to notice the showstopper in the room: a magnificent bouquet of one of his favorite flowers, dripped in fiery orange and pristine white.

Within moments he found himself accepting the lilies with a jubilant, grateful smile. “These are gorgeous. I love the colors…” He stroked the petals fondly, admiring both their beauty and the thoughtful gesture behind them.

The compliment that followed the gift came as no surprise. It was expected. Barnaby and his brilliant pair of foxes had spent hours preparing for their debut; they'd given their all on stage and performed exceptionally. Of course they were deserving of praise.

But that didn’t make it any less meaningful, especially when spoken by the host himself.

"I’m really proud of the way you performed.”

That comment hits the hardest. A sentiment that Barnaby had rarely heard sincerely in his life. It caused a confusing pang of pleasure and pain to well up in his chest. Thankfully, the feeling passed quickly.

"Thank you, mon trésor. That means a lot coming from you."

Martín del Mar
mission: SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

☉

If Mars had explained the significance of the lilies, extrapolated on the many intricate meanings and details that had gone into the gift, Barnaby would have been extremely touched. For now, though, he saw it as a sweet and amiable gesture.

On the admin’s suggestion, Barnaby took a seat at the immaculately set dining table, choosing a spot across from Martín del Mar to easily facilitate conversation. As they settled in, one of the staff stepped from around the corner carrying a plate in each hand. He presented the first course, setting the appetizer down before both men, before lighting a candle for the table. Although the food in front of Barnaby smelled divine, the scent of other delicacies also floated from the nearby kitchen, mingling together to create a tantalizing experience.

“Quite the feast indeed! This looks delicious.” Barnaby’s cobalt eyes flicked down to his plate and then up to meet his host’s amber gaze. “Kalosian. A thoughtful touch, Martín.”

Martín del Mar
mission: SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

☉

"Spoken like the expert host that you are." A compliment made with a double meaning, referring to Mars' attention to detail in both this celebration and as the host of the ♡ Love Contest.

"That's tough. I have many favorites." This topic of conversation was a comfortable one. It brought Barnaby back to simpler times, to a medium he used regularly as a form of solace when his life was at it's lowest point.

Food. Cooking, baking, eating. It was an escape for him.

"Bœuf à la Bourguignonne is wonderful in the wintertime. It's rich and hearty; makes one want to cozy up on the couch in front of the fireplace." Barnaby smiled at the thought while plucking the now-filled champagne flute from the table.

"Perhaps a light quiche in the warmer months." He took a sip of his drink before continuing.

"I think I love sweet things the most, though. Desserts are my weakness." And also one of his favorite things to make. Perhaps that was why Summer Atreides and Martín del Mar's chocolates had been so detestable to his palate.

"I hope you don’t mind me sneaking in some of my favourites. Bon appetit.”

"Not at all. I'm curious to see what your favorites are. Good to know for the future." To this he paired a teasing smirk, holding Mars' amber gaze before looking down at the variety of canapés. Barnaby assessed the selection with a hungry, appreciative eye, and then chose one topped with smoked salmon and capers.

"Bon appetit!" He declared before popping the entire canapé in his mouth.

Martín del Mar
mission: SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

☉

As Mars began to speak, Barnaby chewed his canapé quietly, savoring the taste of quality salmon on his tongue. He listened, too, smiling as his friend commented on the hearty beef dish that they both apparently held a fondness for. Another sip of champagne and then he responded, admitting,

"I don't really share this often, but I do actually enjoy cooking. If there's ever anything you're craving I'd be more than happy to make it for you." And that was the genuine truth. It wasn't something he offered lightly, either, although it may not have seemed that way to Martín del Mar.

"I know a few seafood dishes off the top of my head that I think you'd like. Just let me know." And with that, he popped another canapé into his mouth. The plate was almost empty now, with only a few bites left between them.

"Though, if you like sweets that much, then I may have to start acting sweeter.”

"You talk as if you aren't already exceptionally sweet." Barnaby gestured to the room at large, with it's atmospheric lighting, delicious hors d’oeuvres, and breathtaking flowers. "But if you insist, I'd love to see what an even sweeter Martín del Mar looks like. I can hardly imagine something so... delectable."

Two could play at this game. Certainly, it was one of their favorites: harmless flirting just for the sake of it, just because it felt good in the moment. Why not indulge, especially during a celebration like this one?

"You didn't have to go to all this trouble, by the way." His voice had grown softer now, more gentle, making the implied but I'm glad you did at the end of the statement fairly obvious.

Martín del Mar
mission: SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

☉

"Really? You’d do that for me?”

As the words left his host's lips, Barnaby realized that there was a lot he'd do for Martín del Mar. In a moment of concern he'd once promised that Mars didn't have to be alone anymore, not if he didn't want to be.

In that vein they'd continued to enjoy one another's company, just like tonight, and a fondness had grown beyond the dam Barnaby usually erected around these types of relationships. It wasn't something he was willing to admit to himself, though. Not yet.

So he continued in unsteady ignorance, smiling blithely as their next course was brought to the table. "C'est magnifique, Martín!" The first bite was so mouthwateringly decadent, it brought him back to Kalos, if only for a moment. It was a wonderful, nostalgic feeling.

"For you." Mars had done this knowing of Barnaby's longing for home. Arranged and sorted just for him and him alone.

Right?

Why? Was that really true? Would he have done something similar for the Contest's victor regardless? Knowing Mars and his incredible penchant for networking, it seemed likely.

And so he reasoned the significance away. Packaged neatly in a palatable, downplayed scenario. Shunted his expectant feelings behind the dam.

"Thank you." Barnaby spoke, just as gently, for the third time tonight.

Wanting to reroute the conversation, he glanced toward the beautiful bouquet of calla lilies and then back to Martín del Mar. "So, why a love contest? To capitalize on Palentine's Day, perhaps?"

Martín del Mar
mission: SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

☉

Of course love mattered to Martín del Mar.

The rings around his neck, hidden behind the fabric of his shirt, was a testament to that fact.

But... Mars had never answered him, then. When Barnaby had asked about his late wife. The memory seemed like a lifetime ago, and the topic hadn't come up since. He wondered, if he asked now, what sort of response he'd receive.

Would Barnaby dare broach such a subject?

"Not everything. But you're the CEO of one of the world's largest banks for a reason." That was indisputable.

When Mars paused he did as well, taking a sip of his champagne and another few bites of his delicious dinner. When his friend spoke up again, though, it caused Barnaby's hands - and the fork and knife gripped by them - to still mid-use.

"... What do you consider to be actual love?" Barnaby was curious because, if he were to be truly vulnerable and analyze the relationships in his life, he wasn't sure he'd ever been actually loved at all.

Martín del Mar
mission: SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

☉