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circusgoth-dotcom · 1 year

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Pure & Renowned (Pt. 2)

Ship: Sinclair Bryant x Corey Kennan

Word Count: 1720

Summary: The (lengthy) part two to Pure & Renowned, in which Corey is invited to the estate Sinclair lives on and the two officially begin dating, set a month after part one. CWs for food mentions, some feelings of anxiety, some very vague allusions to canon iykyk. Part two of two.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife

During the following weeks, Corey and Sinclair met like clockwork in that cafe, swapping ice-breakers and learning about each other’s worlds. Sinclair learned Corey lived in a tiny studio apartment and worked at a thrift shop, but what he really wanted was to be able to survive off of his art. He learned that Corey was from America, but his specific mental cocktail had him quickly picking up a mix of local accents and unintentionally assimilating well into his new environment with this “neat party trick.” For once, Sinclair did not feel the need to fill any potential dead air with his usual ramblings, even when Corey willingly spoke much less than him. Of course, when asked about himself, Sinclair did his best to avoid talking too much of his past and instead focused on his wide array of interests, from natural disasters to multi-language literature.

After a month of this, Sinclair invited Corey out to the estate for lunch and a grand tour. Today was the day; Corey sat in the back of a cab, watching rolling green countryside drift by the tinted windows. Frankly, he was nervous, travelling this far out of the city, alone, but Sinclair had assured him via call that he would be waiting for them when they got there. He couldn’t help but gasp as the cab finally pulled up to a vast and gorgeous home, all pale brick and glittering windows. He paid his fare and exited, relief spreading through him as Sinclair rushed down the gravel path, waving his thanks to the cab driver as they pulled away. He grabbed Corey’s hands excitedly.

“Corey, my friend, welcome! How was the drive?”

“Quiet,” Corey spoke truthfully, his cheeks warming up and his smile coming easily. “And without mishap, thankfully, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long--”

“No, no, you’re right on time. One of my neighbours, Edwinna, has prepared a lovely banquet, I hope it’s to your liking.”

Hand-in-hand, Sinclair led them through the house and into a three-season room where a large table had been set with numerous foods and birds fluttered about the rafters.

“Everyone, this is Corey Kennan. Corey, this is everyone.”

They traded polite greetings and sat down. Corey’s nerves returned as he eyed the meal before him, unsure of what was “safe” and what wasn’t, frightened by the unfamiliarity of it all. Quietly clearing his throat, he set to stacking things onto his plate.

“It looks delicious,” he half-fibbed, trying to remain positive. After all, Sinclair had so graciously invited him, he didn’t want to offend him over something that shouldn’t be that big of a deal. It didn’t take long for Sinclair to dominate the conversation amongst his peers, chattering on about whatever he hadn’t told Corey yet this week and keeping the energy high and light. However, they were still glad when the food began to disappear and people began to excuse themselves, prompting Sinclair to stand and offer Corey his hand once more.

“Shall we begin the tour?”

Swallowing the last bite of a meat-based dish that he found tolerable, Corey nodded and stood, taking Sinclair’s hand in his.

“Oh yes, please. I’ve never been in a house so big!”

Sinclair chuckled happily and the two set off, first making a stop at his kitchen, where he opened his freezer and pulled out a white cup with a thin plastic seal on top. “Italian Ice?” He offered. “I’ve got Lemon or Raspberry.”

“Lemon, please. Thank you.”

Sinclair nodded and picked up a second cup, handing it to Corey before closing the freezer and turning to a drawer, retrieving two spoons. “I presume you can walk and eat, yes, a mind as vast as yours?”

“I can try my best.” They grinned and opened the cold treat, following Sinclair out onto the lawn where he began to explain the history of each building on the land. Most of them were houses, belonging to Sinclair’s unique, passionate, and stupidly rich neighbours, but there was also a church and a library, almost as if the estate were its own little village.

“As you can imagine, I’m actually quite dull in comparison. I thought I’d stand out like a sore thumb amongst these pricks, what a laugh. I bet I’m even the poorest one fortunate enough to live here.”

“You’re also quite young compared to them, don’t you think?” Corey quirked up his eyebrow as he slurped up a spoonful of lemon ice. Sinclair appeared confused.

“I mean… I’m forty-five…” He shrugged, reaching for the back of his neck. “Some would consider that ‘old.’”

Corey scoffed. “No way! You’re farther from a hundred than you are from twenty, Sinclair, you’re not old. Your neighbours must be grandparents at this point!” He then laughed, beaming, and Sinclair felt as if he were walking on air. He couldn’t help it, gazing at his friend with a smitten expression. They continued, walking away from the houses and down toward the river that bordered the edge of the property, complete with a dock where expensive-looking boats bobbed silently in the green water.

“Do you own one of these?” Corey asked, bending down to pick up a smooth stone from the riverbank.

“Oh, yes, but I know nothing about them. That’s why I have Fernando, my ship captain. I’d have him take us down the stream, but he’s off today.”

“Fancy that. The man who’s fascinated by everything doesn’t know anything about one subject,” Corey teased, attempting to skip the stone across the water. It bounced twice before plunging into the depths. “Ahh, I was never good at this.”

“Just because I’m interested in things doesn’t mean I have a big enough head to retain everything that could ever be known about those things. Let me try.” Sinclair smiled and handed off his raspberry ice before scanning the dirt for his own stone. Selecting one and winding his arm back, he gave it a good sling, watching the rock skip halfway across the water before sinking- much farther than Corey’s had gone.

“I’d applaud you but I don’t want to drop the ice.”

The two dissolved into pleasant giggles, and Sinclair was suddenly sure he did not want Corey to leave, at least not anytime soon.

“Is there anything else you’d like to do or know about?” He asked, taking his ice back.

“Well, maybe it’d just be nice to sit for a moment. Conversing or not, I don’t care. Sometimes it’s fun just to watch the world go by… and sometimes it’s terrifying.” Corey shrugged. Sinclair nodded, pausing to admire him some more before waving his hand and starting forward.

“Come on, then. There’s a bench in the shade around here somewhere.”

And so they sat, finishing their flavoured ice and watching Sinclair’s neighbours mill about. The ones closer in age to him had young children, presumably the grandchildren of the older individuals living on the estate. It wasn’t all silence, with Sinclair telling Corey about the wood the bench was made out of, leading to them discussing their favourite types of trees, and Corey insisting Sinclair look up at the clouds and try to imagine what he saw in their ever-changing shapes. When they finished their treats, they set the cups on the ground beside the bench, resting the spoons inside. When they sat back up, their hands fell on top of each other’s on the bench, prompting them to look at each other.

“I really like you, Sinclair,” Corey admitted, not moving his hand. Sinclair smiled.

“I think you’re bloody fantastic, myself, Corey.”

There was a long but not uncomfortable pause, filled with the now-distant sounds of the river and wild, screaming children.

“I don’t mean to move too fast, but…” Corey began. Sinclair’s heartbeat quickened at those words, his eyes widening slightly. They looked away. “No, forget it… I wouldn’t want to throw away what we’ve got going on now for something that might…”

“Tell me. What is it you want to say?” Sinclair forced himself to say it. Yes, he was terrified of the answer, but he wanted to hear it. Corey bit his lip, then slowly looked back at him again.

“You really want to know?”

“Of course. Your mind is like… a top-of-the-line picturehouse. I’d buy a ticket just for the experience.”

Corey blushed, staring deeply into Sinclair’s russet brown eyes. “I was wondering if we could date. Do you… do you like me like that?”

It was as if a fireworks factory had been set ablaze inside Sinclair’s body, and for once he was created speechless. Still, he hated the worried look spreading over Corey’s round features and forced himself to speak, sounding all too serious. “I only have one question.”

“Yes, Sinclair?”

He swallowed. “Do you have any siblings?”

Corey regarded him bewilderedly. “Wha…? No, I don’t have any siblings. Only child, closest thing I have is a cousin who I love dearly… why do you ask??”

Sinclair exhaled, comforted and relaxing just a bit. “No reason. No reason at all.” Absently, he reached up and caressed Corey’s cheek. Flustered, Corey leaned into the touch. “Yes. Let’s try this dating thing. I can’t reveal too much, it pains me a great bit, but my last relationship was akin to a dumpster fire.”

“Oh, Sinclair, I’m so sorry--”

“You didn’t know. But I do like you an awful lot, and I certainly wouldn’t mind having you in my life more consistently. Speaking of which, there’s an extra room I’ve been renovating but I’ve no clue what to do with it, so I was wondering, would you like a real studio? You know, for your art?”

Corey covered his mouth with his fingers. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Sinclair, you are too much.” They happily embraced him, wrapping their arms around his shoulders and burying their face in his neck. Hesitantly, he hugged them back, squeezing them tight and letting his eyes close, inhaling their scent. How comforting it was in this moment.

“Maybe it’s because the world doesn’t have enough.”

“Enough what, Sinclair?” Corey asked, pulling back.

“Just enough, in general. Shall we do dinner on Friday? Six’o’clock? Six-thirty?”

“Oh, damn, I close the thrift shop then… I won’t be off until eight.”

“Fine by me. We’ll just order take-out.”

“That sounds wonderful, Sinclair. Really, truly wonderful.”

#self shipping #self shipping community #self insert #self insert x canon #self x canon #self insert oc #oc x canon #f/o #fictional other #s/i x f/o #circus scripts #📈Life’s Eccentricities🍴#🍔🎬.s/i

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circusgoth-dotcom · 1 year

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Pure & Renowned (Pt. 1)

Ship: Sinclair Bryant x Corey Kennan

Word Count: 816

Summary: Sinclair meets Corey a year after divorcing his wife, the first person to re-instill a feeling of hope in him after the horrors of his past relationship. CWs for food mentions. Part one of two.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife

It had been a year since Sinclair Bryant had divorced his wife and attempted to distance himself from the horrible things that had gone on behind his back. Disgusted and heartbroken, he knew it would take a long time before he could trust a romantic relationship again. Then he met Corey Kennan and rediscovered a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time: Hope.

They had run into each other at Sinclair’s favourite cafe, just across the street from his office job. He sat at his usual place beside the restaurant’s floor-to-ceiling windows, and while he usually enjoyed catching up on reading while he ate his breakfast, he couldn’t help but keep stealing glances at another customer across the room. This happened to be Corey, slightly sweaty, wearing a paint-stained button-down smock and loose-fitting, psychedelically patterned pants. He had barely touched his meal, instead running his fingers through his short, dark hair and examining a notepad on the table through his smudged glasses, resting halfway down his button nose. He sat with one leg tucked underneath him and the other steadily swinging back and forth, the toe of his sandal occasionally scuffing against the hardwood floor.

Too curious to let the stranger leave without saying anything, Sinclair picked up his coffee mug and approached. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I couldn’t help but notice you from across the cafe… are you a painter?” He asked, swirling his coffee around absently.

Corey looked up, surprised, then looked down at his outfit, letting out a light and embarrassed sound. “Oh, yes, I-I look a fright, don’t I? I’m… an artist. I wouldn’t confine it to just painting. I couldn’t. I mean, just look at this.” They picked up the notepad and handed it to Sinclair. Internally, they asked themself why they didn’t just answer the stranger in a straightforward manner and leave it at that. Corey had just handed him an unfinished poem he was working on.

Excited, Sinclair set his mug down on Corey’s table and began to read. “May I sit…?”

“Uhm, sure, go ahead!” Corey quickly shuffled his plates around to make room for Sinclair to sit comfortably opposite him, then busied himself by popping some grapes into his mouth. Anxiously, he watched Sinclair’s eyes flit back and forth down the page. Eventually, the notepad was set down, revealing a bright expression on the man’s face.

“This is brilliant, you have such a-a visual way with words…! I’m Sinclair.” He offered his hand across the table. Corey shook it, swallowing his last grape quickly.

“Corey Kennan. A-and thank you.” He couldn’t help but blush. What was this handsome, well-dressed man doing complimenting his writing when he had gone out looking like he did? “It’s not finished…”

“Could I read it when it is?”

Corey’s blush deepened as he cleared his throat. “Maybe. If we cross paths again.”

“I’m here every Saturday morning. Well, at least when the weather permits.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiled shyly. “It was nice of you to intrude, Sinclair. I just moved here a month ago, I still don’t know very many people… much less people who show your level of kindness.”

Sinclair’s brow furrowed at this. “Ah, that’s just how city folk are, I’m afraid.”

“But not you.”

“Oh, I don’t live out here, I live on a country estate, surrounded by all the eccentric sorts.” He smiled. “I think you’d like it, simply judging by this first meeting.”

Corey leaned forward curiously, resting his chin in his palm. “What kind of eccentric work do you do, then, in your pressed suit and tie?”

“Stock Analyst. I predict what’s going to happen to people’s money, it’s really quite thrilling, and lucrative of course, even when you’re wrong. But I’m never wrong.”

Corey immediately fell back in his chair, still smiling and shaking his head. “That’s not eccentric at all… I knew you were just another businessman.”

“You don’t think the stock market is exciting?”

“I’m not good with numbers. In fact, I’m not even sure I’ll be able to afford this meal.” His smile faltered slightly and a soft sigh escaped him as he poked at his toast and eggs. They were getting cold.

“I’ll pay for it.”

“What??”

“I’ll pay for your breakfast, I insist. But on one condition; promise me we’ll meet like this again. It only has to be once if you like but I like what I’m learning about you, and you said it yourself, you don’t know many people, what’s one new acquaintance? Will you meet with me again?”

Corey considered this, taking in all of the man sitting across from him. His heart skipped a beat. “Okay, Sinclair.”

“Wonderful.”

Somehow, even if he didn’t quite know what that initial meeting would lead to, Sinclair knew in that moment that Corey had the potential to become very special to him. Very special indeed.

#self shipping #self shipping community #self insert #self insert x canon #self x canon #self insert oc #oc x canon #f/o #fictional other #circus scripts #🍔🎬.s/i #📈Life’s Eccentricities🍴

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