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roamingtigress · 4 months ago

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Auld Lang Syne and Other Pleasures

Hosea and Dutch make a New Year's Resolution -- to open up their relationship, with none other than the charismatic Josiah Trelawny. In addition to themes of polyamory/open relationships, also contains a mention of period-era homophobia.

Auld Lang Syne and Other Pleasures

by Roaming Tigress

A New Year predictably sets out the drive to reach personal resolutions within the next 365 days. Many have goals for self-improvement; maybe a vice or weight to shed; others are more issues of the heart and mind. Perhaps some are pushing themselves to ease their temper or learn to communicate better. Others have loftier aims; such as finally getting that trip to the Catskills Mountains or somewhere more exotic; France, Spain, or maybe Italy.

Others are still excited about the possibilities that life itself writes resolutions for, which sets out its own course of actions and end games.

Sometimes, one sets a goal and hands the reins over for life to take hold of the bit, and go for a ride.

Dutch and I decided to pursue the latter—we decided to embark on the journey of opening our relationship.

Now, some of you may be saying; after being together for so long, is boredom setting in? Has Dutch got on your last nerve? Does Dutch want a younger model to play with?

I haven't experienced a day of boredom since I got into a relationship with that man. What is boredom? A moment when your mind wonders what it could do versus knowing what to do?

Dutch exasperates me daily, but no, that's not it.

. . . Dutch can be a bit of a cougar, as can I. However, I can safely confirm his status as a flirt for all age categories. I've seen him flirt with younger ladies to try and make an impression (sometimes I suspect to boost his self-esteem). He often overdoes it, coming off more like some overeager teenager than the smooth talker he thinks he is. I've also seen him flirt with an old general who could have been old enough to have been his father (and said general, though amused, brushed him off with the tried and true 'I'm old enough to be your father').

Does this mean that our status as soulmates is over?

Far from it.

At the end of the day, after flirting with the prettiest ladies, the most handsome of gentlemen, it's me that Dutch wants to dance with. It's me who he wants to hold onto and whisper silly sweet nothings to. He wants me to call him an idiot and ruffle his hair as I wake up in the morning, with him on top of me as if I was just part of the bed.

And it's me that he loves.

No, our decision to open our relationship was based on our trust. It would be another way to add a little more fun to our relationship, to satiate our appetite for excitement and adventure in a way that shouldn't get every lawman and Pinkerton on our trail.

We would open our doors to close friends, and maybe for fun, good acquaintances that we run into at the local saloons. I have seen the type of glances in our direction from the sheep farmers even in Valentine; they know, we know. They are strong, burly men that I'm sure could handle Dutch and I just fine, maybe with a little wrangling.

The idea excites Dutch.

For all his talk and bravado, Dutch is a man who likes to be controlled, and dominated. For me, it adds a dimension to his being; in many ways, that man is not unlike an onion; he is layered, and can be delectable with the right dish. He is a little hairy (though he does much 'manscaping'; I have more hair on my chest than he does), and he is a little smelly -- think of something of a combination of horse, cigar, and cowboy. Delicious!

The first we would open our door to though would be the charismatic, enigmatic Josiah Trelawny.

He is not a big, burly man with the build of a bison, but he is a dashingly handsome fellow. And, less shallow, the three of us have been good friends for some time. He comes and goes when it comes to involvement with the gang, but it's tolerated for the friendship and loyalty he's given us.

Josiah is a man who leads a double life. He has a family; a wife, Donna, who's not lacking in Irish feistiness and good humour, and two children, Cornelius and Tarquin, names you might not be shocked he'd give children. Like us, Josiah and Donna wanted to add a little 'something' to their relationship, a little spice to their delectable flavour.

I have caught the flirting glances between us, which, over time, progressed to hands resting on shoulders a little longer than a casual friendly pat. Eye contact between us all had become longer. Jokes became more insinuating.

It was only natural that the Trelawnys were the starting point for this new journey; the chemistry was perfect.

But the lady and the gentlemen would part for the evening this evening.

Donna had chosen to go to a New Year's ball with fine lady friends in Saint Denis. They had come over from Belfast to visit family for the holidays. Later, she took two of the ladies -- Bridget and Deirdrie -- to host their own New Year's celebration in their cozy city apartment. The Trelawnys lead layered almost doubled lives. Her pastor father boasted Donna had long been a 'good church girl',. Imagine his shock at learning that his 'good church girl' had an eye for the ladies as she did for the gentlemen!

Dutch's excitement was palpable as he heard the carriage come to a stop at the Rhodes Parlour House. It was a common destination, particularly on New Year's Eve, but, Dutch was convinced it was Josiah.

And for once, Dutch was right.

Our hotel room door was knocked enthusiastically, and Dutch opened the door with matching enthusiasm. He ushered Josiah in rather quickly and carefully; Rhodes isn't friendly to people of our orientation. We were armed of course; we set our gun belts on a nearby chair, but he knew those within the parlour room were as well. It's allegedly a place of proper repute, but there's always a chance that those of less than adequate repute will be lurking about, with intentions to crash our little party.

"Ahhhh, the old guards! Welcoming the wayward into the fold, are we?" Trelawny's theatrical mannerisms in his entrance were out on full display; I would have been disappointed if they weren't.

"Never a minute late!" I smirk, pouring some wine into three glasses and setting them on the night table-slash-dresser. Our wine was a vintage 1880 white from Italy, with distinct fruity hints; we like to spoil ourselves. We might have pilfered it from behind the bar of the saloon; Dutch played the part of the drunk flirt with the bartender, and I did the rest.

"And If you weren't so charming, we would have given you the boot for that by now!" I let out a chuckle all the same, taking his coat and hanging it up on the rack. Josiah had also brought a vintage wine with him, an 1870 from Burgandy.

Dutch took the bottle from Josiah and set it by our bottle, but not before taking a cheeky sip from it.

"I'll have to keep working the charisma then, don't I?" Trelawny's Trans-Atlantic was a little lower in tone than his usual, and took the glass I offered him. He sipped it while casting a little flirting eye contact.

Dutch couldn't help himself to a little teasing, and raised his glass to him before having a sip. "Work that magic any harder, and you’ll have us under your spell."

That mustache of his is twisted up into a dimply smile, a spark in his eyes. "Of course, I'm not so sure you haven't done that to us already." He's got a hip popped out as he sips on his glass, his other hand propped on the wall. He's not so subtly flirting; he's bringing attention to that waist of his, which Josiah's eyes (and maybe mine) may have settled on.

The dim lighting gently accentuated our features, highlighting our most handsome. Cheekbones were gently washed in a warm glow, glinting off our eyes. There's something to be said about this new vibrant electric lighting, but I find it lacks the 'character' for setting the mood that the old oil lamps and candles never fail to deliver.

"There's always a few more 'tricks' that I could teach you two." Josiah's voice came out as one long purr as he took a fine cigar that I had offered from our box, a Christmas gift from Dutch.

"Such as . . . ?" I asked with intrigue, as a knowing smile appeared on my annoyingly thin lips.

Josiah leaned a little, his mustache turned into a widening smile. He knows that I know.

"I'm a little overdressed for the first trick."

Someone in the room thought we had a bit too much on.

Dutch had started unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt, casting us a playful smirk. Knowing him as well as I do, I could surmise that he thought that Josiah had lingered a little too long with me and was growing a little jealous, a little needy. Showing that chest out a little more would get attention on him -- and it did, for us both. When Dutch feels like he isn't getting the amount of attention he feels he deserves, out comes his 'look at me' acts.

"Someone's a little eager," I grin, and come right over, giving a kiss to his cheek and sling an arm around his upper torso, that he predictably leaned into as I pull him in close.

"Never change."

'Never change, you frustrating, adorable idiot, never change.'

I knew at the back of my mind that Dutch's insecurities -- of which that jealousy had come from -- would need to be worked on together as a unit. If I am to occasionally let myself get whisked away by Josiah from time to time, he'll need to be reassured that Trelawny wouldn't turn me into a literal disappearing act.

I smiled though as I pictured Donna stealing him away on those evenings; she would put up with no nonsense from him. They'd go from pub to pub, sampling a little brew here and there, with a few lawmen in pursuit. Alcohol can produce a Dutch that can be nostalgic, but also a little silly and well, when a nostalgic, silly Dutch is let loose, anything could happen. Donna with a few under her, and you could have a riot. They'd eventually lose them, though and maybe spend a bit of time canoodling before they'd return.

Dutch will be fine.

Dutch brushed it off, though he leaned into my arm. "Just getting ready for the magic show to start." He added with a wink, slipping his shoulders out of his black coat -- that beautiful, velvety black coat. There is a bit of wearing it now, but I'll be damned if it wasn't his most attractive outfit.

Trelawny set aside his glass and came over, taking off Dutch's hat. "Hats count as clothing. We need to have as minimal on for our trick to work." When Dutch unexpectedly snagged his arm in his jacket, as if distracted by the task at hand, I helped him pull it off.

"We don't want anything to block the flow of the magic. Haberdashery is so awfully blocking."

Oh, Trelawny.

With a wave of his hat directed at himself, Josiah's jacket had disappeared in a puff of smoke. Dutch and I stood slack-jawed at what we had seen. We knew well of his tricks, but it was something else having them played out before in our own private magic show.

"Is the audience impressed?" He teased, slowly waving the hat in front of him. "Do they want more?"

Dutch was just as quick on the banter trigger. He sat half on the bed, a leg propped up on his chest, sipping the remainder of his wine. "We paid for the ticket, we expect the show!"

Josiah was one step ahead of the man with the slightly less impressive mustache.

"Patience, my dear man, patience!"

With one swift wave of the hat, to our delight, his clothes disappeared into apparent thin air.

Before us stood a tall, handsomely sculpted man -- posed casually against the doorframe with Dutch's trademark black hat twirling on a finger. He was lean but not thin; rather fittingly elegant. Some nice musculature was apparent; the light of the candle flickered them, his form, his waist, and his collarbone. He felt us looking him over as if he was some fine piece of artwork -- and he loved it.

"Now, audience, are we ready for the audience participation aspect of the show?"

I lean back on the bed with Dutch, slowly sipping the remainder of the wine while studying the splendid creature before us. He was ever so theatrical in his request for consent.

"We are . . . "

Josiah took his time shedding us of our clothing, layer by layer, in a slow burn reveal. There was a particularly cheeky twinkle in his eyes, even more than usual; he liked what he was seeing. I look over at Dutch who cast him a coy expression as he leaned back to put his glass on the table, but I know he's loving the attention. He's Dutch, after all. And Dutch craves -- no, needs -- attention, on the level of fish needing water.

I felt at once excited, maybe a little nervous as we sat on that bed, now nude before Trelawny and also feeling . . . A little shy.

I'm used to being in the nude with Dutch of course. And there was always the chance that, given our lifestyle, the gang would catch us bathing in the nude in whatever body of water we were closest to. And that was exciting.

But it felt different now.

There had been a shift in dynamics, of which I was no longer in control.

Josiah did not take control by force intimidation, or even his magic, but by charm, his mannerisms, and his confidence. And we fell for it as those he -- we -- had conned countless rabble.

We can manipulate a person or two but Josiah is a bit of a master of that himself.

It was that shift had left me feeling that shyness, that vulnerability. I was eased out of my comfort zone of being in control.

And as if sensing, Josiah had toned down the theatrics, as if not wanting to intimidate. I was not uncomfortable, but he didn't want to risk it. This was a new dynamic and he wanted to tread carefully. He knew that when Donna would come into the picture she would run the show, and wanted to form a bridge between us three before the queen would ascend her throne.

He gently patted me on the shoulder and then went over to sit on the bed, where he literally started Dutch out of his hand with a square of cheese and crackers we had set aside on a plate on our nightstand. I smiled as I sat on the opposite side of Josiah; I had some competition now, and I think I loved it.

"Careful, he bites!" I lightly 'warn', as he lightly kissed Josiah's fingertips.

"Lies!" Dutch snorted.

Trelawny grinned, tapping Dutch playfully on the nose. "Oh, I think it's It's a risk I could take!" Sure enough, with a second tap, Dutch scrunched up his face in the manner he does when he's annoyed, and gave his finger a nip, seizing his fingertip between his teeth with a playfulness that belied his expression.

Josiah feigned shock, tapping him on the nose again when Dutch snuck in a nibble. "Naughty pussy cat!"

I leaned in with a smirk. "I warned you."

"Oh, I think I could have him good and tamed in no time!" Josiah flashed me another dashing smile and ruffled Dutch's hair gently before he pulled us both in close in a warm snuggle. Getting naked can have its disadvantages, namely getting cold, but the body warmth between us all was wonderful.

Dutch's position within our dynamic had also shifted; he became submissive to us both, a position that I was certain was part of his grand scheme for paradise. And now, with extra attention, he'll be even more insufferable.

Thanks, Josiah.

I then offered Trelawny a slice of cheese and cracker, subtly surrendering my standing, which he ate with one little nibble at a time. He mirrored the gentle kiss on his fingertips that Dutch gave him (pre-mauling).

We lean in and kiss Trelawny on each side of his neck; they're the soft, familiar kisses one would give a spouse while getting breakfast ready. He almost purrs as he leans in towards us in alternating directions, encouraging us. "My gentlemen . . . " He slowly drew out his words as he took one of my hands, squeezed it, and softly traced the side of his thumb over on top of it.

"We'll take this journey slow, old friends."

He slipped an arm around behind Dutch and gave a hint of a love handle a gentle squeeze. Dutch let out the manliest little squeak, but I know he loves it.

Josiah's voice was teasing, affectionate.

"That includes you too!" He gave Duch ribs an affectionate little poke to emphasize, smirking when Dutch squeaked again and buried his flushed face into his shoulder.

I leaned my head on Josiah's toned shoulder, watching the exchange with amusement. Now I can safely guess that Dutch wasn't feeling particularly shy per se, unlike Yours Truly, though he was a little more quiet than his usual -- something few would complain about. I suspect was taking it all in, and he looked like a puppy cuddled up to him.

Puppylike. Dutch was being puppylike. Soaking up as much attention and affection as he could get and was eager to take in more.

I rarely see this playful side to Dutch with anyone other than myself; it made my heart swell to two sizes.

"I know you'll try to be a rebel but we'll keep you on the straight and narrow." Trelawny paused as he realized, giving Dutch's belly a gentle stroke; such a sweet gesture only encouraged him and he was soon nearly sprawled out onto his lap, quietly begging.

"Well, narrow."

Josiah happily obliged Dutch's silent request; Dutch just had put on his irresistible puppy dog act. He gave my hand one more squeeze before he pulled me up closer so that I was snuggled up against Dutch with Trelawny as our base; effectively our big spoon. Josiah leaned his head against mine, chuckling lowly, the sound rumbled through his chest and reverberated against us. It was a strangely comforting sensation, maybe because it reminded me of a heartbeat, a reminder that are living, breathing beings with rich potential ahead.

'The very idea of keeping Dutch on the straight and narrow!'

Still, I smile and take hold of Josiah's hand again, linking my fingers in between his. "Ten minutes the new year, gentlemen. Ten minutes until . . . " My voice took on a slight waver.

"This is official."

It seemed only natural to start this journey on a clean slate -- and it was already off to a promising start.

I will come out of my shyness and I know it'll only be a matter of time until Dutch won't shut up, but for the time being, I will revel in the quiet, the warmth of being situated among two warm bodies. There is something warmly intimate about such skin-to-skin content. At once it was deeply romantic, indescribably comforting even when I felt I didn't need to be comforted.

It felt . . . Right.

We will be all right.

A gamma-phone some distance away in the parlour house played a lively tune, as some gentlemen and ladies sang 'Auld Lang Syne.' Dutch though, was oblivious. He was drifting off to sleep, indicated by his head flopping against mine. He rarely stays up to see the new year roll in, and I'm never far off. There was a time when we'd be among those revellers staying up at all hours, but as the years ticked on by, perhaps the Sand Man coming for us early was a merciful attempt to slow the march of time, if even by a few hours. Though this year, we nearly made it; missing by perhaps a few minutes.

Josiah wrapped his arms around as much of us as he could gather, the lean build of them belied their, strength. He leaned down, softly kissing us on the tops of our heads, so as to not stir us awake.

He would forego sharing and drinking that vintage he had brought over, but what's a drink when your arms are filled with those you cherish?

"Happy New Year, gentlemen."

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