Lincoln wiped the remainder of his coffee on his lips with the handkerchief and stood up, “My friend’s house is closer than the hardware store anyway.” He shoved his arms back into his coat sleeves, gaze still wistfully on Jack and his hair. It felt weird being attracted to someone who was born maybe two hundred years in the future, and yet at the same time they were both placed in a time period where simply expressing love to another man was damned.
His heart ached; if only he could have been born at the same time as Jack, where technology and discovery was at its peak, and people could love who they loved—at least without being ashamed for simple feelings.
Jack nodded, standing up. "Alright." His eyes traveled over Lincoln's face thoughtfully, then he looked away before he could be caught staring. Why couldn't we have met in my own time? I could be a little more sure of…of everything there. Of whether he might feel the same way, or… He sighed softly, raking his hands through his hait again. What am I thinking? No, you are not allowed to feel anything for him. He berated himself.
Lincoln plucked his hat off the corner of his chair to fit it back onto his head. He kept stealing furtive glances over to Jack, especially as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. His job probably would discourage relationships from other time periods anyway.. he frowned at the thought. And he might be gone in a mater of days. But that just meant he had to make up for the lost time, right? “It might be a long walk to his house in this nippy weather. Would you like to hitch a ride on a horse and carriage?”
Jack put his hat back on, buttoning up his coat. "Hmm? Oh. Alright." He replied. "I'll help pay for it. If you want or need me to." He scratched the side of his face, biting his lip. He looked over at Lincoln again. I…really do like him. But I'm not allowed to. Not supposed to be this attached to someone.
He gave a single nod in response, only half responding while he thumbed through some money to leave on the table as payment. “You’re a good man, Mr. Morgan. If you can pay for the hardware for Tip, I’ll pay for the coffee and carriage ride.” An oily strand of his hair had escaped his slicked-back coiffure, hanging just in front of his left ear.
Jack smiled, and nodded. "Alright." He agreed. "That sounds like a plan." He had to restrain the urge to reach out and tuck the hair behind Lincoln's ear again. He cleared his throat softly, tucking his hands in his pockets to try and stop himself. Self control, Jack! He reprimanded.
He set the mug over the money to keep it there until the manager could collect it. “Very well, then. We’re ready to go,” he hummed cheerfully, pivoting on his heels to face Jack.
Jack nodded. His fingers twitched. "You have a loose hair…" He gestured loosely, desperately wanting to brush it back himself. He swallowed, fidgeting with his coat to distract himself.
“Ah,” he lofted a hand you push it back behind his ear. “I’m not surprised, with my hair it happens often,” he chuckled and started taking steps to the door.
Jack chuckled softly, following him. Is this what it's going to be like, then? Every time a hair falls loose, am I going to want to take care of it for him? He sighed, raking a hand through his own hair.
Lincoln swung the door open to invite the chilly outside air into the coffeshop. The little bell rang again. He stepped outside, holding the door open with his foot for Jack, "I think I hear a carriage coming. In the winter they put sleighbells on the carriages for a sliver of romantic asthetic in a city that favors industrialism," he chuckled.
Jack followed him out, chuckling softly. "They still do that in my time." He replied. "I've always liked it. Of course, I usually associate it with Christmas, but still. The bells are fun." He smiled at Lincoln, then turned to look for the carriage.
“I’m glad that tradition is still popular centuries later,” he grinned, moving his foot to let the door swing closed now that Jack was outside. He waved his arm to catch the driver’s attention as he noted the carriage getting close.
He smiled. "Yeah. Actually, a lot of things are still popular. I mean, they've changed, but still popular." He chuckled softly, shaking his head a little. "Although…I don't know. A lot has changed, but…" He shrugged. "I don't know. Hard to describe."
Lincoln tilted his head in thought as the carriage pulled up in front of them. “Hm, What’s the main form of transportation in your time? Does everyone have enough money for a car?”
"Well…cars are pretty common, yeah, but there's these things called Transport Tubes? And they're becoming more and more common. Basically, they teleport you wherever it was that you wanted to go." Jack shrugged a little.
Lincoln’s eyes widened, “No,” he inhaled, “You’re kidding me right now. No way that’s possible,” he laughed incredulously, despite believing, or at least wanting to believe, every word. He didn’t mean Jack was a liar, but it was just so out of the realm of what he thought was actually possible.
He hoisted himself onto the carriage with the help of the ledge, and when he was comfortably seated offered his hand to Jack.
Jack took his hand, getting up. He grinned. "Way possible, and so fun. It's actually a modified version of the time travel technology, just… localized, so to speak." He shrugged a little.
“Damn,” he smiled wider, “I wish more and more that I could have been born when you were.”
The driver cast a questioning glance behind himself, but decided not to ask about their strange conversation. Who knew what the men smoked these days. “Where to, gentlemen?”
He laughed softly. "Yes, me too." He said, without really thinking about what he was saying. He glanced at the driver, then at Lincoln. "Where are we going?" He asked.
“3466 Oak Avenue,” he answered both Jack and the driver, “That’s where my friend lives.” He rested his hands at his sides, then looked over to speak directly to Jack. “His name is Graham Westcotte, by the way.”
Jack nodded. "Alright." He replied, shooting a quick smile towards Lincoln. "I look forward to meeting him." He stretched, then burrowed down into his coat. "Brr, it's cold!" He exclaimed.
Lincoln returned the smile, shifting his hand an inch closer to Jack, “It is cold. I’m looking forward his fireplace. And you meeting him.”
The carriage heaved as the driver urged the horses forward to 3466 Oak Avenue.
Lincoln returned the smile, shifting his hand an inch closer to Jack, “It is cold. I’m looking forward his fireplace. And you meeting him.”
The carriage heaved as the driver urged the horses forward to 3466 Oak Avenue.
Lincoln returned the smile, shifting his hand an inch closer to Jack, “It is cold. I’m looking forward his fireplace. And you meeting him.”
The carriage heaved as the driver urged the horses forward to 3466 Oak Avenue.
