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Watson takes a moment to answer, because he's already regretting saying anything.

"There's always some stiffness. Some days I feel hale and whole, hardly need my cane at all, and other days --- damp days, cold days -- I ache like it's new again. Most of the time it's there, but bearable."

César nods along, looking down at his work for a moment, although it's slowed, before looking up again, a soft look in his eyes, as if he's truly seeing his husband. His observations were right on the mark, then.

"Both Johnny and I have noticed, you know." Johnny's observant; César doesn't need to ask to know that. "It's easy enough to know when you have good days and bad and everything in between after being with you for so long. But you never wanted to be fussed over because you're a capable man, so we didn't."

"I promised Johnny I would not work so hard to hide it from the two of you, actually." Watson can't quite look at César as he makes this admission. "I... try. It's difficult. I don't..."

It takes his a moment to manage to finish that sentence.

"I don't want you to think less of me."

César waits patiently for Watson to say the words he expected all along, and as such, he only gives a breath's moment before replying. "Johnny was right to ask. I'd be a cruel man if I did. John... I married you. I married all of you. This included."

His voice is calm. César's stating things he's long since made up his mind about.

"And the two of you are so... handsome, and hale, and I am not."

It sounds stupid to him, too, when he says it aloud. Watson covers his face with his hand. "Or at least, sometimes I am not. And I don't want pity. I couldn't bear pity."

Watson's said that all of that before. César's nearly done with the foot he's on.

"I married you for the mind and soul that so completes my own." César's smile is warm, his eyes soft. "You led me so easily into a life of debauchery, so don't cut your good looks short! ... I'm also too attracted to the handsome man in front of me to pity him. I want you, even right now."

His expression softens. "Sometimes I feel as though Johnny and I corrupted you, but I don't think I have much regret about that, love." Watson stretches to rub his toes along César's thigh, gently. "Perhaps I do regret the fact that I have an unerring ability to love people who can see through me."

"You won't hear me complaining." César teases back, smiling a bit wider at the toes touching him. "Mm. Maybe you just want people who can see you when you need it and polite to pretend they don't see you the rest of the time."

"Perhaps I do," he says, seriously. "Is that so wrong? Sometimes a man wants to be seen, and sometimes he doesn't. And perhaps it's very vain of me, but... it is nice, after all, to be told that anyone finds me handsome, as I do not always feel that way."

"It's not wrong at all; in fact, I think all of that is very nice and balanced." César finishes with Watson's right foot and shifts to start working on his left. "And for the record, and it bears repeating, I find you handsome at this very moment."

He smiles, his expression grateful.

"Thank you," Watson says, soft. "And I suppose that if an old ache is the price I pay for the day we had, and this sort of pampering, I will be content to pay it."

"You're welcome." César's expression grows soft, and he takes a moment to just look at him with love. "It was an absolutely perfect day. You mowed me down!"

"I did, and I don't regret a bit of it."

Watson gives a little bit of a guffaw, and settles back into the sofa. He takes a long sip of his tea. "I am grateful that the two of you tolerate my flights of fancy."

César laughs, too. "I knew you wouldn't when you did it."

He's smiling, so very relaxed as if he's the one who is getting a foot massage. "I'm grateful to be invited."

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