Tea and Complications
Title: Bless This Mess - March
Author: m_buggie
Fandom: “Band of Brothers”
Pairings: mild Lipton/Luz, Speirs/Lipton, eventual Nixon/Winters
Word Count: 1,295 for March
Rating: PG-13
Standard Disclaimer: This is based off performances in the HBO miniseries, not the actual soldiers. The only thing I own is the computer I wrote this on. I make no profit and mean no disrespect so please don’t sue.
Author’s Note: This is an off-shoot of the Big Damn AU of Doom, otherwise known as “Nothing Says I Love You Like a Crowded Bar and a Dark Alleyway.” Huge thanks go to melliyna for helping to spawn this spin-off in the first place. Nods go to alouette_sparra and foofighter0234 for their usual enabling.
~x~x~
March
It was roundabout 3 o’clock in the morning when Richard Winters finally got home. He locked the door behind him quietly, and then slumped back against it with a heavy sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul.
He skimmed his lips with his fingertips, recalling the peculiar combination of whisky, cigarettes, and something more that had been the taste of Lewis Nixon. Winters shook his head and pushed off the door, moving towards the kitchen where he could brew a much needed cup of tea to gather his thoughts. Had he really just kissed Nixon like that? Half-hidden in an alley beside that popular bar and lounge that Abigail had insisted he meet her at? That was so out of character for him; he never kissed on the first date.
Winters turned on the light above the stove so he wouldn’t have to work in the dark. He put the kettle on and peeled off his coat, staring into this tea cupboard like enlightenment was going to find him hidden among the boxes and bags and tins. This was a mint and chamomile night if there ever was one.
He had half a mind to give Abigail a call and tell her what happened but decided to wait on that. Not only was the current hour not conducive to conversation but he knew that the moment his kid sister heard that she’d been proven correct about something, he’d never hear the end of it. Because as much as he adored his little Abby, Dick Winters did have some pride. The Unified Code of Older Brother Justice clearly stated that only under the most dire of circumstances was he to ever utter the words, “you were right.” And besides, he still had to wait three days to see whether or not anything was going to happen.
Winters fished through his pockets until he found the business card that had felt like it was burning a hole through fabric into flesh from the moment he received it.
Lewis Nixon, Cynical Bastard.
“Truth in advertising,” Nixon had called it.
It made Winters feel ridiculous: blushing like a schoolboy at the memory of the kiss and Nixon’s particular way of smirking, the feel of those hands raking down his body, the funny little twist he felt in his gut when Nixon winked at him. He was a grown man, for Christ’s sake. This wasn’t his first time at flirting with guys and evaluating perspective partners. Winters might have been conservative in his dating habits but he was no virgin...so why was Nixon making him feel as giddy and flushed as one?
The kettle was whistling before Winters knew it and he moved quickly to silence it, hoping the sound hadn’t disturbed Lipton. Carwood Lipton was too good of a friend and roommate to be rudely awakened by the squealing of a tea kettle at an hour so late that it could actually be considered early. That was just bad form. But no sound came from Lipton’s bedroom so Winters let out the breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding and continued to search for some honey for his tea.
Winters found himself absently wishing that some of his friends were insomniacs just so he could contact them without feeling guilty about the time. The events of the night were burning away at his brain and he desperately wanted to speak to someone about it all. A sip of tea was warm and soothing, giving him something to focus on instead of staring at the business card and hoping that Nixon called in three days.
Such mysterious ways…
Winters couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way. He’d experienced fleeting moments of it here and there with this person and that. A glimmer with Eugene Roe, an echo with Herbert Sobel - but nothing so strong and clear as what he felt for Lewis Nixon. It was as exhilarating as it was unnerving. It was as though his whole life he’d been walking through the dark with nothing but a lantern and now suddenly there was light everywhere, breath-taking in the way it both blinded and showed him all he’d been missing.
The shiver that coursed through him next had nothing to do with the tea or the temperature. Winters felt goosebumps. Only a handful of hours had passed since he and Nixon had parted ways but already Winters was wanting, missing the other young man’s company. Already he wanted to kiss Nixon again.
Three days. Dick Winters was a patient man but he got the impression that the next three days would be a special kind of torture for him, waiting to see if Nixon would actually reach out or if it had all been the experimentations of a bitter divorced man who thought it might be fun to go gay while drunk. As much as Winters wanted to hope for the former, he had to accept the possibility of the latter being the case.
“Wow, you’re up early,” a voice said from somewhere behind Winters.
“I’m sorry, the kettle didn’t wake you, did it?” Winters asked, watching Lipton shuffle into the kitchen.
“Not really,” Lipton replied, then pointed to the kettle in question. “You got enough water there for two?”
Winters nodded.
Lipton took a mug out of the cupboard. “I think I’ll join you.” He glanced at Winters’ mug. “Chamomile with mint?”
Winters nodded again.
Lipton pursed his lips and nodded back, sagely. “Ah. How did it go then?”
“I think it went well,” Winters answered.
“How’s your sister?”
Winters smiled softly. “Oh, Abby’s just fine. I don’t know when she grew up but apparently she’s gone and turned into a young adult now.” He laughed under his breath. “It’s so strange. I look at her and I still see the little girl with pigtails who used to sit in the barn with me, playing with kittens while I worked with the horses…but that’s not who she is anymore. She’s a college student now and the Pennsylvania farm girl that she used to be got replaced by a New York City gal.” He sighed wistfully. “I feel like I missed so much.”
Stirring his Darjeeling, Lipton shrugged one shoulder. “A lot happens in two years, especially when you’re overseas.”
“You can say that again.”
They sat without speaking for a while, just drinking their tea.
“I met someone tonight,” Dick Winters finally said. “At the bar: we caught each other’s eyes and started talking, we even kissed before saying goodnight.”
Carwood Lipton perked up at that, grinning at his roommate’s good fortune. “Really? That’s great.”
“Not really. He’s straight.”
“What?”
“He and his wife just got a divorce yesterday.”
“Oh. But what about the kissing thing?”
Winters leaned back, sighing mightily. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ll find out in three days when my phone does or doesn’t ring.”
“Ah, I see.”
The silence returned for a beat before Lipton dispelled it.
“So I finally found out what Ron does for a living,” he announced.
“Really?” Winters looked intrigued. What line of work Ronald Speirs was in had almost as much mystery surrounding it as what George Luz did to keep the bills paid.
Lipton nodded. “Yeah, he told me.” He paused, clearing his throat a bit. “He works for the government.”
“That sounds interesting.”
“He kills people for them.”
Winters almost chuckled but stopped himself, realizing it was no joke. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“I know, it’s kind of a lot to take in.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah.”
They shook their heads and started laughing then at the ridiculousness of their situations.
“We’re kind of fucked, aren’t we?” Lipton remarked.
Winters just laughed, but he nodded as he did so.
Author: m_buggie
Fandom: “Band of Brothers”
Pairings: mild Lipton/Luz, Speirs/Lipton, eventual Nixon/Winters
Word Count: 1,295 for March
Rating: PG-13
Standard Disclaimer: This is based off performances in the HBO miniseries, not the actual soldiers. The only thing I own is the computer I wrote this on. I make no profit and mean no disrespect so please don’t sue.
Author’s Note: This is an off-shoot of the Big Damn AU of Doom, otherwise known as “Nothing Says I Love You Like a Crowded Bar and a Dark Alleyway.” Huge thanks go to melliyna for helping to spawn this spin-off in the first place. Nods go to alouette_sparra and foofighter0234 for their usual enabling.
~x~x~
March
It was roundabout 3 o’clock in the morning when Richard Winters finally got home. He locked the door behind him quietly, and then slumped back against it with a heavy sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul.
He skimmed his lips with his fingertips, recalling the peculiar combination of whisky, cigarettes, and something more that had been the taste of Lewis Nixon. Winters shook his head and pushed off the door, moving towards the kitchen where he could brew a much needed cup of tea to gather his thoughts. Had he really just kissed Nixon like that? Half-hidden in an alley beside that popular bar and lounge that Abigail had insisted he meet her at? That was so out of character for him; he never kissed on the first date.
Winters turned on the light above the stove so he wouldn’t have to work in the dark. He put the kettle on and peeled off his coat, staring into this tea cupboard like enlightenment was going to find him hidden among the boxes and bags and tins. This was a mint and chamomile night if there ever was one.
He had half a mind to give Abigail a call and tell her what happened but decided to wait on that. Not only was the current hour not conducive to conversation but he knew that the moment his kid sister heard that she’d been proven correct about something, he’d never hear the end of it. Because as much as he adored his little Abby, Dick Winters did have some pride. The Unified Code of Older Brother Justice clearly stated that only under the most dire of circumstances was he to ever utter the words, “you were right.” And besides, he still had to wait three days to see whether or not anything was going to happen.
Winters fished through his pockets until he found the business card that had felt like it was burning a hole through fabric into flesh from the moment he received it.
Lewis Nixon, Cynical Bastard.
“Truth in advertising,” Nixon had called it.
It made Winters feel ridiculous: blushing like a schoolboy at the memory of the kiss and Nixon’s particular way of smirking, the feel of those hands raking down his body, the funny little twist he felt in his gut when Nixon winked at him. He was a grown man, for Christ’s sake. This wasn’t his first time at flirting with guys and evaluating perspective partners. Winters might have been conservative in his dating habits but he was no virgin...so why was Nixon making him feel as giddy and flushed as one?
The kettle was whistling before Winters knew it and he moved quickly to silence it, hoping the sound hadn’t disturbed Lipton. Carwood Lipton was too good of a friend and roommate to be rudely awakened by the squealing of a tea kettle at an hour so late that it could actually be considered early. That was just bad form. But no sound came from Lipton’s bedroom so Winters let out the breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding and continued to search for some honey for his tea.
Winters found himself absently wishing that some of his friends were insomniacs just so he could contact them without feeling guilty about the time. The events of the night were burning away at his brain and he desperately wanted to speak to someone about it all. A sip of tea was warm and soothing, giving him something to focus on instead of staring at the business card and hoping that Nixon called in three days.
Such mysterious ways…
Winters couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way. He’d experienced fleeting moments of it here and there with this person and that. A glimmer with Eugene Roe, an echo with Herbert Sobel - but nothing so strong and clear as what he felt for Lewis Nixon. It was as exhilarating as it was unnerving. It was as though his whole life he’d been walking through the dark with nothing but a lantern and now suddenly there was light everywhere, breath-taking in the way it both blinded and showed him all he’d been missing.
The shiver that coursed through him next had nothing to do with the tea or the temperature. Winters felt goosebumps. Only a handful of hours had passed since he and Nixon had parted ways but already Winters was wanting, missing the other young man’s company. Already he wanted to kiss Nixon again.
Three days. Dick Winters was a patient man but he got the impression that the next three days would be a special kind of torture for him, waiting to see if Nixon would actually reach out or if it had all been the experimentations of a bitter divorced man who thought it might be fun to go gay while drunk. As much as Winters wanted to hope for the former, he had to accept the possibility of the latter being the case.
“Wow, you’re up early,” a voice said from somewhere behind Winters.
“I’m sorry, the kettle didn’t wake you, did it?” Winters asked, watching Lipton shuffle into the kitchen.
“Not really,” Lipton replied, then pointed to the kettle in question. “You got enough water there for two?”
Winters nodded.
Lipton took a mug out of the cupboard. “I think I’ll join you.” He glanced at Winters’ mug. “Chamomile with mint?”
Winters nodded again.
Lipton pursed his lips and nodded back, sagely. “Ah. How did it go then?”
“I think it went well,” Winters answered.
“How’s your sister?”
Winters smiled softly. “Oh, Abby’s just fine. I don’t know when she grew up but apparently she’s gone and turned into a young adult now.” He laughed under his breath. “It’s so strange. I look at her and I still see the little girl with pigtails who used to sit in the barn with me, playing with kittens while I worked with the horses…but that’s not who she is anymore. She’s a college student now and the Pennsylvania farm girl that she used to be got replaced by a New York City gal.” He sighed wistfully. “I feel like I missed so much.”
Stirring his Darjeeling, Lipton shrugged one shoulder. “A lot happens in two years, especially when you’re overseas.”
“You can say that again.”
They sat without speaking for a while, just drinking their tea.
“I met someone tonight,” Dick Winters finally said. “At the bar: we caught each other’s eyes and started talking, we even kissed before saying goodnight.”
Carwood Lipton perked up at that, grinning at his roommate’s good fortune. “Really? That’s great.”
“Not really. He’s straight.”
“What?”
“He and his wife just got a divorce yesterday.”
“Oh. But what about the kissing thing?”
Winters leaned back, sighing mightily. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ll find out in three days when my phone does or doesn’t ring.”
“Ah, I see.”
The silence returned for a beat before Lipton dispelled it.
“So I finally found out what Ron does for a living,” he announced.
“Really?” Winters looked intrigued. What line of work Ronald Speirs was in had almost as much mystery surrounding it as what George Luz did to keep the bills paid.
Lipton nodded. “Yeah, he told me.” He paused, clearing his throat a bit. “He works for the government.”
“That sounds interesting.”
“He kills people for them.”
Winters almost chuckled but stopped himself, realizing it was no joke. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“I know, it’s kind of a lot to take in.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah.”
They shook their heads and started laughing then at the ridiculousness of their situations.
“We’re kind of fucked, aren’t we?” Lipton remarked.
Winters just laughed, but he nodded as he did so.