Nightingale
Title: Nightingale
Pairing: Josef/Mick
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Mick's new found mortality leaves him confused when it comes to affairs of the heart. Written for the Moonlightaholics board, champagne challenge No. 138. Also written for 20_fics
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It was past midnight when Mick landed on his doorstep, his hair in ringlets, still wet from the shower. For a moment Josef was disconcerted by the smell of soap and freshness, he couldn’t seem to scent the vampire beneath. And then he remembered; Mick had taken the cure.
“Hey look, it’s my favourite human, back again,” Josef commented breezily as he ushered Mick inside.
Watching him from behind Josef studied the stiffness of Mick’s movements, trying to discern whether it was due to his newly found mortality, or just an extreme case of nerves, as they traversed their way along corridors, headed for one of the private back rooms.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Mick took an awkward seat, when Josef gestured towards the couch.
“That’s never stopped me before,” Josef offered Mick a perfect look of schoolboy innocence, as he picked out one of the bottles from the liquor cabinet. “Scotch?”
Mick nodded his acquiesce. “Make it a double.”
“So what brings you here? I would have thought you and Beth would have been half way to heaven by now.” Josef shot Mick an arched brow grin and handed him a hefty measure of Glenfiddich, taking a seat of his own on the armchair opposite. His face crumpled with concern as he observed Mick’s legs shaking with nervous energy.
Mick didn’t appear to notice. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to mirror Josef’s relaxed posture. “Still too many things to work out,” Mick tried to wave a dismissive hand then. Toying with his drink, he cleared his throat, before speaking again. “Actually it’s you I came to see.”
“I kind of figured that.” His feet rested on the coffee table in front of him, Josef crossed his legs at the ankles. “So tell me, what’s on your mind?”
“Us,” Mick blurted without thinking, and then back pedalled just as quick. “I mean you and me, the things we used to get up to, past stuff, you know.”
“Ah,” Josef pretended to nod sagely, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “so this is a Vampire nostalgia trip. Mortal life not all it’s cracked up to be?”
Mick swirled the contents of the glass in his hand, looking distracted, before downing his drink in three quick gulps. “Mortal life is great, exactly what I’ve wanted all these years. I just…I need to know, what was that back then?”
“I’d call it proper nutritional intake, but then I suppose you have other ideas,” Josef’s conceited expression quickly faded the longer he looked at Mick. “You’re not talking about us feeding together back then, are you?” It was a rhetorical question, Josef already knew the answer.
“No, I’m not.” Mick shook his head and placed the empty glass on the table in front of him with a chink of glass against wood.
“I thought we sorted all this out,” Josef’s expression shifted confused then. He got up, and poured a drink of his own. “I remember you losing it after that first time, and us having several long winded conversations about sex and the average Vampire, and you finally getting it, and then more sex. Did I miss something in-between all that explaining and understanding that was going on?”
Josef tossed his head, and gestured expansively, his glass dangling between thumb and forefinger as he refocused his attention on Mick, and waited for an answer.
“That was different, I was a Vampire then, different rules, you said so yourself,” Mick stole a quick glance as he picked at an imaginary spot on the couch, his fingernails scratching across the leather surface.
“And now you’re human, so the rules have changed?” Josef waited for Mick’s confirmation, and then hesitated briefly before continuing, realisation beginning to dawn. “And you feel the need to question your sexuality as a mortal, great.”
Josef delivered that last word under his breath. He was beginning to feel uncomfortably like a counselling service, one that wasn’t going to have the answers Mick wanted.
“What do you want me to say, Mick?”
“I don’t know, the truth, I guess, whatever that is,” Mick stood up, and walked over to a stereo system at the far end of the room. Lost in thought he flicked through a catalogue of music CDs, before choosing one, and slipping it into the player, “How did you identify when you were human?”
“It was the early 17th century, Mick; the range of identities on offer was rather limited, especially considering the slightest hint of one may very well have rendered you dead.”
“So you were closeted back then,” Mick replied, as if he’d just answered his own question.
“More like dungeoned, as in fear of,” Josef’s expression darkened momentarily, “that and the gallows.”
“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Josef was quick to interject, dismissing Mick’s concern off hand. “Maybe I’m not the one you should be talking this over with.”
“You think I should talk to Beth about it? What are you, crazy?” Mick stared at Josef slack jawed, “She doesn’t know a thing about us. Besides I’m asking you to help me work through this, because if there’s any hope at all of me and Beth moving forward, I don’t want to be living a lie.”
“You mean unlike if Beth hadn’t discovered you were a Vampire,” Josef gave a knowing smile as he pointed out the obvious.
“That’s not the same,” Mick shifted defensive then, quickly walking back over to the liquor cabinet to pour himself another drink.
“Oh,” Josef raised one eyebrow, “So hey honey, I’m a Vampire - you know, a creature you’ve only ever known in myth, is easier to admit than hey honey, guess what, I slept with my best friend?”
“Yeah, maybe it is,” Mick stared at the glass in his hand, and then threw back a few quick mouthfuls. “Beth knowing I’m a Vampire was easy; the evidence was right in front of her - the fangs, the blood - even without her believing in our existence she still had to accept what I was. How do I explain the other to her when I’m not even sure myself what that is?”
Josef went across to the stereo and skipped through the next few tracks on the CD, before beckoning Mick over. “Maybe you don’t explain it, why drag up a past that doesn’t matter.” Josef gathered Mick into a dance hold then; his arm held loosely around Mick’s waist, the side of his face pressed against Mick’s own as they began to move in time to a long remembered tune.
“Why dance with me to this song?” Mick countered as he listened to the strains of Glenn Miller and his orchestra, the singer crooning about a nightingale that sang in Berkley Square. The same song had been playing on the radio, that first night they’d spent together.
Josef smiled, and pulled Mick closer. “Maybe I just wanted to see if I could still evoke some of those old memories.”
“I thought the past didn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t, but while we’re talking about the past, you’re not thinking about some unknown future, are you?” Josef was lying through his teeth then, the past mattered, it had always mattered, maybe more than either of them was willing to admit.
Mick shook his head, “It’s not that simple.”
“Why, because you’ve decided to make things hard for yourself?”
“Yeah like any of this was ever going to be easy for me.”
The song was winding down. His hands thrown up, Mick went to walk away, frustrated at Josef’s lack of understanding.
“Mick, wait,” Josef snatched Mick’s arm in mid stride, preventing him from leaving. “I never said this was easy on you.”
“I know you didn’t,” Mick swallowed back his rising emotions, paused a moment, and looked at the ceiling. He turned to face Josef then, a contrite smile already fixed in place. “Hey man, look I’m sorry, okay? These past few days have just been really overwhelming.”
Mick punctuated his words with a few brief hand gestures, designed to note his sincerity. He watched as Josef walked casually back over to the CD player, only to play the exact same tune they’d just finished dancing to all over again. “You do know I never really liked this song,” Mick pointed out with a wry smile then.
“Really?” Josef raised a nonchalant eyebrow as he stepped into Mick’s space, “I could have sworn I never heard you complain before now.”
Josef’s matter of fact tone couldn’t entirely hide the way those words dripped with salaciousness. Again he drew Mick into a dancer’s hold, a little closer this time, a little more like an embrace. Grinning he proceeded to waltz Mick around the room, until they came to a stop against the couch.
“Are you having fun?” Mick looked at Josef askance, one eyebrow raised. A smile crept over his face. Josef could do that to him; make him forget, even for a moment, elicit a smile where there was none. Mick sought comfort in an impulsive embrace, his body pressed against Josef’s own. Even without the crack in his voice, Josef could sense Mick’s growing distress as he asked once more, “What do I tell Beth?”
“Tell her you’re a nightingale.” Josef replied, only half tongue in cheek as he stroked a tender hand across the back of Mick’s neck.
“So what does that make you, the lark?” For a brief moment Mick laughed at Josef’s offhand remark. And then he was disengaging himself from Josef’s embrace, and taking a step backwards. “You’re not helping, you know.”
Josef shrugged, that infuriating, devil may care shrug that Mick had come to know so well over the years. A shrug that said ‘suit yourself’ when deep down they both knew it spoke volumes more than either of them were prepared to admit.
“And what exactly do you want me to say, Mick?”
“You and me, Josef, before Beth was on the scene, we had a past,” Mick enunciated each word very carefully, his patience was beginning to wear thin, “I need you to tell me what that meant.”
“It meant however much you want it to mean, Mick,” Josef walked back over to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a double measure of Scotch, knowing the drink back in one quick draw, before he poured another.
Mick raised a thin lipped smile in Josef’s direction; Josef’s sudden annoyance hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“Really?”
“No, not really,” Josef took a moment to steady himself, before turning back to Mick, a glass of Scotch pressed into Mick’s hand. “But then you already know that, don’t you?”
“Know what?” Mick set the drink aside, and looked at Josef warily. He had asked for the truth, but now…
All those years, the past had become a forgotten country.
“We meant - something, at least it did to me, and I’d hazard a guess it meant something to you as well.”
Josef had made his admittance then. Mick sank into the nearest chair, head in hands as he processed Josef’s words.
“Yeah, it did.” Mick let out a slow breath, and finally nodded his agreement. For what felt like the longest while nothing else was said. Josef stood leaning against the liquor cabinet, hands held loosely in pockets, his eyes averted. Mick rubbed worried fingers across his brow, trying to think of what to say next.
It was Josef who broke the impasse, “It was a long time ago,” he said, “things were different then, we were different.”
“Were we?” Mick snorted a wry laugh, one eyebrow cocked as he challenged Josef’s assertions. “I thought vampires didn’t change with the passing years, isn’t that what immortality is all about, never changing -
“- But not never growing, Mick, or learning, or moving on.”
Mick felt a pang at the last phrase, “What if we weren’t supposed to move on?” He asked, gesturing emphatically, “what if we’re growing in the wrong direction?”
“Then we hang on, and enjoy the ride, and wait for eternity’s answer to a track switch.” Josef stood in front of Mick then, his arm outstretched, offering Mick his hand. “Come on; humor me,” he beckoned with an easy smile, “once around the dance floor, properly this time.”
“As long as you don’t try to pull any fancy moves,” Mick looked at Josef askance, before accepting Josef’s proffered hand.
Josef’s easy smile spread into a grin, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Mick nodded succinctly, his eyes raised skyward for added effect, as a bubble of laughter welled from his lips. Mick relaxed into the dance then; no music this time, Josef had promised not to subject him to a third round of the same song, instead they held close, and moved to the rhythm of a memory.
“Are you having doubts about Beth?” Josef asked as he pulled Mick a little closer. “You became human for her.”
“I became human, because it’s what I wanted.”
“Then why all this, why the trip down memory lane?”
“Because I need to be sure,” Mick replied simply. “What if Beth isn’t the one, what if we…what if it was meant to be you, and not her? Mick stopped just short of saying those words out loud.
“Then you can still call yourself a nightingale, and at least one of us will get to sing alongside you,” Josef’s voice rang with good humour; he’d made a conscious effort to down play his feelings. “That’s the beauty of having eternity, Mick; give it long enough and you can work out how to do everything.”
“And what happens if you don’t have that long to wait?” Eyes closed, Mick rested his cheek against Josef’s.
“Well then you usually end up on your friend’s doorstep, at some ungodly hour, wanting to talk about your feelings,” Josef was tempted to parry; instead he softened his tone, and spoke with conviction.
“Then go with whoever’s eternity is shortest.”
“If I make a mistake, death will fix it,” Mick replied glibly.
“Something like that.”
Mick extricated himself from Josef’s hold then. This time it was his turn to walk over to the stereo and make the selection.
“I thought you didn’t care for this tune?” Josef raised a bemused eyebrow as the strains of a now familiar song filled the room. Mick’s arms were wrapped around his neck again now, his own arms drawn tight around Mick’s waist.
“Well, let’s say for old time’s sake,” Mick leant back a moment, regarding Josef in front of him with a slightly off-centred smile, “maybe I like this nightingale idea of yours.”
“Only I’m not the lark,” Josef responded quietly as they moved into an embrace, snatches of verse half remembered, “Not this time.”
And to think that I said love was for fools
And that time would never heal these old wounds
But the nightingale saved a prayer for me…
Josef felt Mick’s lips pressed against his own then; the kiss was warm and fleeting.
One day, maybe, his nightingale would sing again for him.
Pairing: Josef/Mick
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Mick's new found mortality leaves him confused when it comes to affairs of the heart. Written for the Moonlightaholics board, champagne challenge No. 138. Also written for 20_fics
----------------------------------------------
It was past midnight when Mick landed on his doorstep, his hair in ringlets, still wet from the shower. For a moment Josef was disconcerted by the smell of soap and freshness, he couldn’t seem to scent the vampire beneath. And then he remembered; Mick had taken the cure.
“Hey look, it’s my favourite human, back again,” Josef commented breezily as he ushered Mick inside.
Watching him from behind Josef studied the stiffness of Mick’s movements, trying to discern whether it was due to his newly found mortality, or just an extreme case of nerves, as they traversed their way along corridors, headed for one of the private back rooms.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Mick took an awkward seat, when Josef gestured towards the couch.
“That’s never stopped me before,” Josef offered Mick a perfect look of schoolboy innocence, as he picked out one of the bottles from the liquor cabinet. “Scotch?”
Mick nodded his acquiesce. “Make it a double.”
“So what brings you here? I would have thought you and Beth would have been half way to heaven by now.” Josef shot Mick an arched brow grin and handed him a hefty measure of Glenfiddich, taking a seat of his own on the armchair opposite. His face crumpled with concern as he observed Mick’s legs shaking with nervous energy.
Mick didn’t appear to notice. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to mirror Josef’s relaxed posture. “Still too many things to work out,” Mick tried to wave a dismissive hand then. Toying with his drink, he cleared his throat, before speaking again. “Actually it’s you I came to see.”
“I kind of figured that.” His feet rested on the coffee table in front of him, Josef crossed his legs at the ankles. “So tell me, what’s on your mind?”
“Us,” Mick blurted without thinking, and then back pedalled just as quick. “I mean you and me, the things we used to get up to, past stuff, you know.”
“Ah,” Josef pretended to nod sagely, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “so this is a Vampire nostalgia trip. Mortal life not all it’s cracked up to be?”
Mick swirled the contents of the glass in his hand, looking distracted, before downing his drink in three quick gulps. “Mortal life is great, exactly what I’ve wanted all these years. I just…I need to know, what was that back then?”
“I’d call it proper nutritional intake, but then I suppose you have other ideas,” Josef’s conceited expression quickly faded the longer he looked at Mick. “You’re not talking about us feeding together back then, are you?” It was a rhetorical question, Josef already knew the answer.
“No, I’m not.” Mick shook his head and placed the empty glass on the table in front of him with a chink of glass against wood.
“I thought we sorted all this out,” Josef’s expression shifted confused then. He got up, and poured a drink of his own. “I remember you losing it after that first time, and us having several long winded conversations about sex and the average Vampire, and you finally getting it, and then more sex. Did I miss something in-between all that explaining and understanding that was going on?”
Josef tossed his head, and gestured expansively, his glass dangling between thumb and forefinger as he refocused his attention on Mick, and waited for an answer.
“That was different, I was a Vampire then, different rules, you said so yourself,” Mick stole a quick glance as he picked at an imaginary spot on the couch, his fingernails scratching across the leather surface.
“And now you’re human, so the rules have changed?” Josef waited for Mick’s confirmation, and then hesitated briefly before continuing, realisation beginning to dawn. “And you feel the need to question your sexuality as a mortal, great.”
Josef delivered that last word under his breath. He was beginning to feel uncomfortably like a counselling service, one that wasn’t going to have the answers Mick wanted.
“What do you want me to say, Mick?”
“I don’t know, the truth, I guess, whatever that is,” Mick stood up, and walked over to a stereo system at the far end of the room. Lost in thought he flicked through a catalogue of music CDs, before choosing one, and slipping it into the player, “How did you identify when you were human?”
“It was the early 17th century, Mick; the range of identities on offer was rather limited, especially considering the slightest hint of one may very well have rendered you dead.”
“So you were closeted back then,” Mick replied, as if he’d just answered his own question.
“More like dungeoned, as in fear of,” Josef’s expression darkened momentarily, “that and the gallows.”
“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Josef was quick to interject, dismissing Mick’s concern off hand. “Maybe I’m not the one you should be talking this over with.”
“You think I should talk to Beth about it? What are you, crazy?” Mick stared at Josef slack jawed, “She doesn’t know a thing about us. Besides I’m asking you to help me work through this, because if there’s any hope at all of me and Beth moving forward, I don’t want to be living a lie.”
“You mean unlike if Beth hadn’t discovered you were a Vampire,” Josef gave a knowing smile as he pointed out the obvious.
“That’s not the same,” Mick shifted defensive then, quickly walking back over to the liquor cabinet to pour himself another drink.
“Oh,” Josef raised one eyebrow, “So hey honey, I’m a Vampire - you know, a creature you’ve only ever known in myth, is easier to admit than hey honey, guess what, I slept with my best friend?”
“Yeah, maybe it is,” Mick stared at the glass in his hand, and then threw back a few quick mouthfuls. “Beth knowing I’m a Vampire was easy; the evidence was right in front of her - the fangs, the blood - even without her believing in our existence she still had to accept what I was. How do I explain the other to her when I’m not even sure myself what that is?”
Josef went across to the stereo and skipped through the next few tracks on the CD, before beckoning Mick over. “Maybe you don’t explain it, why drag up a past that doesn’t matter.” Josef gathered Mick into a dance hold then; his arm held loosely around Mick’s waist, the side of his face pressed against Mick’s own as they began to move in time to a long remembered tune.
“Why dance with me to this song?” Mick countered as he listened to the strains of Glenn Miller and his orchestra, the singer crooning about a nightingale that sang in Berkley Square. The same song had been playing on the radio, that first night they’d spent together.
Josef smiled, and pulled Mick closer. “Maybe I just wanted to see if I could still evoke some of those old memories.”
“I thought the past didn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t, but while we’re talking about the past, you’re not thinking about some unknown future, are you?” Josef was lying through his teeth then, the past mattered, it had always mattered, maybe more than either of them was willing to admit.
Mick shook his head, “It’s not that simple.”
“Why, because you’ve decided to make things hard for yourself?”
“Yeah like any of this was ever going to be easy for me.”
The song was winding down. His hands thrown up, Mick went to walk away, frustrated at Josef’s lack of understanding.
“Mick, wait,” Josef snatched Mick’s arm in mid stride, preventing him from leaving. “I never said this was easy on you.”
“I know you didn’t,” Mick swallowed back his rising emotions, paused a moment, and looked at the ceiling. He turned to face Josef then, a contrite smile already fixed in place. “Hey man, look I’m sorry, okay? These past few days have just been really overwhelming.”
Mick punctuated his words with a few brief hand gestures, designed to note his sincerity. He watched as Josef walked casually back over to the CD player, only to play the exact same tune they’d just finished dancing to all over again. “You do know I never really liked this song,” Mick pointed out with a wry smile then.
“Really?” Josef raised a nonchalant eyebrow as he stepped into Mick’s space, “I could have sworn I never heard you complain before now.”
Josef’s matter of fact tone couldn’t entirely hide the way those words dripped with salaciousness. Again he drew Mick into a dancer’s hold, a little closer this time, a little more like an embrace. Grinning he proceeded to waltz Mick around the room, until they came to a stop against the couch.
“Are you having fun?” Mick looked at Josef askance, one eyebrow raised. A smile crept over his face. Josef could do that to him; make him forget, even for a moment, elicit a smile where there was none. Mick sought comfort in an impulsive embrace, his body pressed against Josef’s own. Even without the crack in his voice, Josef could sense Mick’s growing distress as he asked once more, “What do I tell Beth?”
“Tell her you’re a nightingale.” Josef replied, only half tongue in cheek as he stroked a tender hand across the back of Mick’s neck.
“So what does that make you, the lark?” For a brief moment Mick laughed at Josef’s offhand remark. And then he was disengaging himself from Josef’s embrace, and taking a step backwards. “You’re not helping, you know.”
Josef shrugged, that infuriating, devil may care shrug that Mick had come to know so well over the years. A shrug that said ‘suit yourself’ when deep down they both knew it spoke volumes more than either of them were prepared to admit.
“And what exactly do you want me to say, Mick?”
“You and me, Josef, before Beth was on the scene, we had a past,” Mick enunciated each word very carefully, his patience was beginning to wear thin, “I need you to tell me what that meant.”
“It meant however much you want it to mean, Mick,” Josef walked back over to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a double measure of Scotch, knowing the drink back in one quick draw, before he poured another.
Mick raised a thin lipped smile in Josef’s direction; Josef’s sudden annoyance hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“Really?”
“No, not really,” Josef took a moment to steady himself, before turning back to Mick, a glass of Scotch pressed into Mick’s hand. “But then you already know that, don’t you?”
“Know what?” Mick set the drink aside, and looked at Josef warily. He had asked for the truth, but now…
All those years, the past had become a forgotten country.
“We meant - something, at least it did to me, and I’d hazard a guess it meant something to you as well.”
Josef had made his admittance then. Mick sank into the nearest chair, head in hands as he processed Josef’s words.
“Yeah, it did.” Mick let out a slow breath, and finally nodded his agreement. For what felt like the longest while nothing else was said. Josef stood leaning against the liquor cabinet, hands held loosely in pockets, his eyes averted. Mick rubbed worried fingers across his brow, trying to think of what to say next.
It was Josef who broke the impasse, “It was a long time ago,” he said, “things were different then, we were different.”
“Were we?” Mick snorted a wry laugh, one eyebrow cocked as he challenged Josef’s assertions. “I thought vampires didn’t change with the passing years, isn’t that what immortality is all about, never changing -
“- But not never growing, Mick, or learning, or moving on.”
Mick felt a pang at the last phrase, “What if we weren’t supposed to move on?” He asked, gesturing emphatically, “what if we’re growing in the wrong direction?”
“Then we hang on, and enjoy the ride, and wait for eternity’s answer to a track switch.” Josef stood in front of Mick then, his arm outstretched, offering Mick his hand. “Come on; humor me,” he beckoned with an easy smile, “once around the dance floor, properly this time.”
“As long as you don’t try to pull any fancy moves,” Mick looked at Josef askance, before accepting Josef’s proffered hand.
Josef’s easy smile spread into a grin, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Mick nodded succinctly, his eyes raised skyward for added effect, as a bubble of laughter welled from his lips. Mick relaxed into the dance then; no music this time, Josef had promised not to subject him to a third round of the same song, instead they held close, and moved to the rhythm of a memory.
“Are you having doubts about Beth?” Josef asked as he pulled Mick a little closer. “You became human for her.”
“I became human, because it’s what I wanted.”
“Then why all this, why the trip down memory lane?”
“Because I need to be sure,” Mick replied simply. “What if Beth isn’t the one, what if we…what if it was meant to be you, and not her? Mick stopped just short of saying those words out loud.
“Then you can still call yourself a nightingale, and at least one of us will get to sing alongside you,” Josef’s voice rang with good humour; he’d made a conscious effort to down play his feelings. “That’s the beauty of having eternity, Mick; give it long enough and you can work out how to do everything.”
“And what happens if you don’t have that long to wait?” Eyes closed, Mick rested his cheek against Josef’s.
“Well then you usually end up on your friend’s doorstep, at some ungodly hour, wanting to talk about your feelings,” Josef was tempted to parry; instead he softened his tone, and spoke with conviction.
“Then go with whoever’s eternity is shortest.”
“If I make a mistake, death will fix it,” Mick replied glibly.
“Something like that.”
Mick extricated himself from Josef’s hold then. This time it was his turn to walk over to the stereo and make the selection.
“I thought you didn’t care for this tune?” Josef raised a bemused eyebrow as the strains of a now familiar song filled the room. Mick’s arms were wrapped around his neck again now, his own arms drawn tight around Mick’s waist.
“Well, let’s say for old time’s sake,” Mick leant back a moment, regarding Josef in front of him with a slightly off-centred smile, “maybe I like this nightingale idea of yours.”
“Only I’m not the lark,” Josef responded quietly as they moved into an embrace, snatches of verse half remembered, “Not this time.”
And to think that I said love was for fools
And that time would never heal these old wounds
But the nightingale saved a prayer for me…
Josef felt Mick’s lips pressed against his own then; the kiss was warm and fleeting.
One day, maybe, his nightingale would sing again for him.