Expectation
More Restoration fic for you, because I am a huge creeper.
Pairing: Catherine of Braganza/John Wilmot (...just go with it, yeah?)
Summary: In which Charles is bad at caring for his loved ones, Johnny is bad at not fucking everything up, and I am bad at titles.
Disclaimer: I don't own historical figures, blah blah, this never happened and actually it would probably break my heart if it did.
He didn’t mean to kiss her.
It isn’t the first time he’s said that to himself, but this is the first time he’s actually meant it. He’d only meant to make her smile, but his words had finally failed him and he doesn’t really know how else to make people feel good. Even his words don’t do that, most of the time, but there is one thing that he can do that will always make people happy - which is why the two of them are out in the palace gardens on this warm summer night, after everyone else has finally gone to bed.
...After nearly everyone has gone to bed, that is. They know very well that Charles doesn’t sleep much, that he takes midnight strolls around the gardens, but even if they do get caught, it doesn’t matter. It’s not as if he really cares, is it? He laughs at Johnny’s dirty poems, and he always at least turns up to parties with his wife, but in the end his attention is always caught by something with a little more sparkle.
It’s not that they don’t shine at all, of course; but Barbara’s claws have sunk so far that there’s no way she’ll let go, even for a woman who deserves her place a hundred times more than she ever will. And Johnny... well. There’s no way he can compete with a man who spent his entire adult life pissed as a fart and still managed to survive the war with limbs intact and a brand new title. So he just doesn’t bother. He can’t be his father any more than Catherine can be that godawful woman, and there’s no point in either of them trying to point that fact out to Charles, because he clearly doesn’t want to listen.
Except that apparently he does, because when Johnny opens his eyes after a final breathless kiss, Charles is standing there watching them - and just as Johnny had suspected, he’s not even angry.
What he hadn’t expected was the look of utter devastation on the king’s face.
But if this is what it takes to put it there, he’ll do it all over again - and next time, he’ll laugh.
Pairing: Catherine of Braganza/John Wilmot (...just go with it, yeah?)
Summary: In which Charles is bad at caring for his loved ones, Johnny is bad at not fucking everything up, and I am bad at titles.
Disclaimer: I don't own historical figures, blah blah, this never happened and actually it would probably break my heart if it did.
He didn’t mean to kiss her.
It isn’t the first time he’s said that to himself, but this is the first time he’s actually meant it. He’d only meant to make her smile, but his words had finally failed him and he doesn’t really know how else to make people feel good. Even his words don’t do that, most of the time, but there is one thing that he can do that will always make people happy - which is why the two of them are out in the palace gardens on this warm summer night, after everyone else has finally gone to bed.
...After nearly everyone has gone to bed, that is. They know very well that Charles doesn’t sleep much, that he takes midnight strolls around the gardens, but even if they do get caught, it doesn’t matter. It’s not as if he really cares, is it? He laughs at Johnny’s dirty poems, and he always at least turns up to parties with his wife, but in the end his attention is always caught by something with a little more sparkle.
It’s not that they don’t shine at all, of course; but Barbara’s claws have sunk so far that there’s no way she’ll let go, even for a woman who deserves her place a hundred times more than she ever will. And Johnny... well. There’s no way he can compete with a man who spent his entire adult life pissed as a fart and still managed to survive the war with limbs intact and a brand new title. So he just doesn’t bother. He can’t be his father any more than Catherine can be that godawful woman, and there’s no point in either of them trying to point that fact out to Charles, because he clearly doesn’t want to listen.
Except that apparently he does, because when Johnny opens his eyes after a final breathless kiss, Charles is standing there watching them - and just as Johnny had suspected, he’s not even angry.
What he hadn’t expected was the look of utter devastation on the king’s face.
But if this is what it takes to put it there, he’ll do it all over again - and next time, he’ll laugh.