Yours and Mine, 3/4
Even more MGFWP (Morally Grey Fluff without Plot, for the uninitiated)!
Title: Comrades in Arms
Characters/Pairings: Claude/Bennet
Rating: PG13, and even that seems generous
Warnings: Blatant random invention on my part.
Disclaimer: None of it is mine except some of the travel experiences. But none of the good ones.
A/N:Is this my favorite part yet? Pretty much, yeah. Even though it has no bearing on actual reality? Pretty much, yeah. And is there any kind of reality but actual? Probably not. And is it part of four? Yes, but I'd like to think it could stand alone. And is there a reason I've suddenly resorted to the Donald Rumsfeld syntax? Not really.
“You’d think that they could’ve gotten a company jet by now.” He’d grumbled, when they found out about the third delay.
Bennet, as always, had mumbled something unconvincing about their superiors knowing best and following orders and other things he’s pretty much stopped listening to.
And now, because there really was only the one room they could get, and it’s freezing cold, and Bennet insisted, they’re sharing a tiny single bed that they don’t really fit on together, with clinging sheets that feel damp for reasons he doesn’t really want to contemplate.
Still fully dressed, too, because their flight leaves in…six hours and they’ll need to be up and about in four. Well, fully dressed except for their jackets, one of which was thrown unceremoniously on the floor, while the other was hung on the door to the bathroom that neither of them have felt brave enough to venture into.
He isn’t accustomed to this sort of contact, but Bennet appreciates it and, in the right circumstances, when the man isn’t yammering on about The Company and The Cause, he appreciates Bennet. And he has to admit that right now, with an arm draped around his waist and a warm chest pressed to his back, it isn’t too bad.
What is irritating, though, right now, is Hitler. Obviously, Hitler is always a source of contention and annoyance, to say the least, but the voice of the narrator detailing the man’s diabolical rise to power is in danger of lulling him to sleep, and falling asleep in someone’s arms, even if it is because of Hitler, is a little further than he’s willing to go.
“You’re falling asleep, aren’t you?” He hears, softly, in his ear.
“No.” He does sound groggy though, and feels he has to justify that. “Why are we watchin' this, Bennet? Hitler was insane, Nazi’s are evil, people suck, all these are things we know already.”
But he knows why; it’s the same reason that he ended up in Antietman when they were on assignment in Baltimore, Socorro when they finished in Albuquerque, and taking an afternoon tour of the French Quarter the day they arrived in New Orleans.
Because Bennet thrives on little bits of knowledge, about everything and anything, lights up like a kid in a bloody toy store when he learns something new, and he’s gotten a little too fond of seeing the man’s eyes shine like that.
“People suck, hmm?” He hears behind him, amused. And wasn’t it just like him to ignore the question they both knew the answer to and ask one of his own?
“Pretty much, yeah,” he answers, raising his eyebrows, even though he knows Bennet can’t see him.
“Really?” As soft lips trail up the back of his neck.
“All of them?” Nibbling at his ear.
“Every last one?” Moving the arm around his waist and gently stroking his stomach.
And so he has to turn his head, and roll his eyes.
“Maybe not all of them, friend.” He answers, and gets a quick kiss for his troubles before he turns back around.
***
He wakes up to the cheering of plebian masses, hailing Emperor Nero.
“Well if it isn’t Rip Van Winkle,” he hears, breathed across his shoulder.
“How long was I out?” He mumbles, stifling a yawn.
“About an hour.”
“And we’ve already moved on to Nero?”
“It’s Ruthless Dictator Week. Thompson’s coming up in an hour, if you think you can stay awake.” And that’s unusually flippant of him. He must want something.
Well, they do have…two hours to kill. And he is feeling slightly more energized.
“And you’d have a plan for keeping me awake, would you?”
“I may have been working on something, yes,” Bennet says, modestly, as he grasps his jaw, and pulls him over, and they both have to twist around each other to keep from falling off.
“What is that, stubble?” he hears, as Bennet starts nuzzling his cheek and pushing back his hair.
“It’s what comes of shaving at five in the morning and spending a day in the airport,” he says, looking over to bemused blue eyes, a little lighter normally, but they have a tendency to borrow colors from their surroundings, and right now he might as well be looking into his own.
“Why? Are you uncomfortable? I could go shave again, if you like.” And he moves to get up, but not really, and fully anticipates the playful push back onto the bed.
“I don’t think we have time for that right now,” and it’s always full sentences with Bennet, during, or it seems like it at least. It’s an experience, to be sure.
***
“Guess what I learned while you were asleep,” he hears, as they lay together again, facing each other this time, not quite so fully clothed, on top of rumpled sheets that are, now, damp for all the right reasons. Although he doesn’t envy the room’s next occupants in the least. Serves them right for renting by the hour, he thinks.
“What?” he says, into Bennet’s chest, in a tone that he hopes conveys “couldn’t care less right now or ever really,” not that it’ll matter.
“Apparently, in ancient times, soldiers took their comrades in arms to bed quite often,” he starts, sounding more and more like the narrator with the voice of lead. “It was said to encourage loyalty to the ranks…fighting next to your lover.”
Right, Claude thinks, suddenly a bit more awake. I wonder where that is going.
“Is that what we are, then?” He asks, wondering what the answer’s going to be but doubting it’ll really change anything.
“What?” He hears above him. “Comrades in arms?”
“As you like, mate,” he murmurs, pretty sure of what the answer is going to be.
There’s a pause, as if he’s weighing the options.
“I’d like to think so,” his partner says, kissing the top of his head.
Crossposted, etc.
Title: Comrades in Arms
Characters/Pairings: Claude/Bennet
Rating: PG13, and even that seems generous
Warnings: Blatant random invention on my part.
Disclaimer: None of it is mine except some of the travel experiences. But none of the good ones.
A/N:Is this my favorite part yet? Pretty much, yeah. Even though it has no bearing on actual reality? Pretty much, yeah. And is there any kind of reality but actual? Probably not. And is it part of four? Yes, but I'd like to think it could stand alone. And is there a reason I've suddenly resorted to the Donald Rumsfeld syntax? Not really.
“You’d think that they could’ve gotten a company jet by now.” He’d grumbled, when they found out about the third delay.
Bennet, as always, had mumbled something unconvincing about their superiors knowing best and following orders and other things he’s pretty much stopped listening to.
And now, because there really was only the one room they could get, and it’s freezing cold, and Bennet insisted, they’re sharing a tiny single bed that they don’t really fit on together, with clinging sheets that feel damp for reasons he doesn’t really want to contemplate.
Still fully dressed, too, because their flight leaves in…six hours and they’ll need to be up and about in four. Well, fully dressed except for their jackets, one of which was thrown unceremoniously on the floor, while the other was hung on the door to the bathroom that neither of them have felt brave enough to venture into.
He isn’t accustomed to this sort of contact, but Bennet appreciates it and, in the right circumstances, when the man isn’t yammering on about The Company and The Cause, he appreciates Bennet. And he has to admit that right now, with an arm draped around his waist and a warm chest pressed to his back, it isn’t too bad.
What is irritating, though, right now, is Hitler. Obviously, Hitler is always a source of contention and annoyance, to say the least, but the voice of the narrator detailing the man’s diabolical rise to power is in danger of lulling him to sleep, and falling asleep in someone’s arms, even if it is because of Hitler, is a little further than he’s willing to go.
“You’re falling asleep, aren’t you?” He hears, softly, in his ear.
“No.” He does sound groggy though, and feels he has to justify that. “Why are we watchin' this, Bennet? Hitler was insane, Nazi’s are evil, people suck, all these are things we know already.”
But he knows why; it’s the same reason that he ended up in Antietman when they were on assignment in Baltimore, Socorro when they finished in Albuquerque, and taking an afternoon tour of the French Quarter the day they arrived in New Orleans.
Because Bennet thrives on little bits of knowledge, about everything and anything, lights up like a kid in a bloody toy store when he learns something new, and he’s gotten a little too fond of seeing the man’s eyes shine like that.
“People suck, hmm?” He hears behind him, amused. And wasn’t it just like him to ignore the question they both knew the answer to and ask one of his own?
“Pretty much, yeah,” he answers, raising his eyebrows, even though he knows Bennet can’t see him.
“Really?” As soft lips trail up the back of his neck.
“All of them?” Nibbling at his ear.
“Every last one?” Moving the arm around his waist and gently stroking his stomach.
And so he has to turn his head, and roll his eyes.
“Maybe not all of them, friend.” He answers, and gets a quick kiss for his troubles before he turns back around.
***
He wakes up to the cheering of plebian masses, hailing Emperor Nero.
“Well if it isn’t Rip Van Winkle,” he hears, breathed across his shoulder.
“How long was I out?” He mumbles, stifling a yawn.
“About an hour.”
“And we’ve already moved on to Nero?”
“It’s Ruthless Dictator Week. Thompson’s coming up in an hour, if you think you can stay awake.” And that’s unusually flippant of him. He must want something.
Well, they do have…two hours to kill. And he is feeling slightly more energized.
“And you’d have a plan for keeping me awake, would you?”
“I may have been working on something, yes,” Bennet says, modestly, as he grasps his jaw, and pulls him over, and they both have to twist around each other to keep from falling off.
“What is that, stubble?” he hears, as Bennet starts nuzzling his cheek and pushing back his hair.
“It’s what comes of shaving at five in the morning and spending a day in the airport,” he says, looking over to bemused blue eyes, a little lighter normally, but they have a tendency to borrow colors from their surroundings, and right now he might as well be looking into his own.
“Why? Are you uncomfortable? I could go shave again, if you like.” And he moves to get up, but not really, and fully anticipates the playful push back onto the bed.
“I don’t think we have time for that right now,” and it’s always full sentences with Bennet, during, or it seems like it at least. It’s an experience, to be sure.
***
“Guess what I learned while you were asleep,” he hears, as they lay together again, facing each other this time, not quite so fully clothed, on top of rumpled sheets that are, now, damp for all the right reasons. Although he doesn’t envy the room’s next occupants in the least. Serves them right for renting by the hour, he thinks.
“What?” he says, into Bennet’s chest, in a tone that he hopes conveys “couldn’t care less right now or ever really,” not that it’ll matter.
“Apparently, in ancient times, soldiers took their comrades in arms to bed quite often,” he starts, sounding more and more like the narrator with the voice of lead. “It was said to encourage loyalty to the ranks…fighting next to your lover.”
Right, Claude thinks, suddenly a bit more awake. I wonder where that is going.
“Is that what we are, then?” He asks, wondering what the answer’s going to be but doubting it’ll really change anything.
“What?” He hears above him. “Comrades in arms?”
“As you like, mate,” he murmurs, pretty sure of what the answer is going to be.
There’s a pause, as if he’s weighing the options.
“I’d like to think so,” his partner says, kissing the top of his head.
Crossposted, etc.