Fanfiction: Master and Commander (PG)
Title: Happy Christmas
Pairing/Characters: William Mowett and Tom Pullings
Rating: PG
Fandom: Master and Commander (movie)
Word Count: 973
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: Tom and Will exchange special Christmas gifts.
Notes/Warnings: Written in honour of the holiday. Rating for kissage. No beta
Happy Christmas
"Wake up, Will!" He groaned when his friend shouted and burrowed deeper under his covers, determined not to get up yet.
William Mowett was not an early riser. He preferred standing late watches to early ones. So, it was beyond him why his best friend, Tom Pullings, could not only be awake early in the morning, but disgustingly chipper, too. "Go away, Tom. I want to sleep."
"Not today you're not!" Tom yanked the covers away, leaving William to shiver in the cold winter air.
He barely opened his eyes to glare at his soon-to-be-former best friend. "Bloody hell, Tom, can't you let me sleep in for once? We're on shore leave."
"You've forgotten the date, haven't you?" Tom's grin didn't dim in the slightest as he settled cross-legged on the bed beside his stout friend.
Sighing, William reluctantly sat up, scrubbing his eyes. "I suppose I have. They tend to run together sometimes."
"It's all right, Will." A gaily-wrapped package was pushed into William's lap and he stared down at it, the reason for Tom's more-chipper-than-usual mood suddenly suggesting itself to him. "Happy Christmas!"
Guilt for his ill humour clawed at William now. He should have known Tom wouldn't have woken him up early without a good reason. His slender friend knew better than to disturb his sleep when they were on leave together. He slowly lifted his head to meet his friend's eyes. "Sorry for being cranky, Tom."
"Just open your gift, Will." If it were possible, Tom's grin brightened even further, almost lighting up the room.
Nodding, William carefully opened the package in his lap. Inside, he found a notebook with a collection of poetry by various poets, each one copied faithfully in Tom's neat handwriting. He was speechless. He'd never once considered that Tom had actually listened while he talked about his favourite poets and poems. He'd thought his friend was just indulging his love of poetry. Blinking away the dust that had somehow gotten into his eyes, he looked up at the other man. "Thank you, Tom."
"You're welcome, Will." Tom's smile was shy this time, but pleased that his gift had been chosen well and thought out.
Getting up, William walked over to his dunnage and withdrew Tom's present. Seating himself opposite his friend, he offered it to him. "This is yours. Happy Christmas."
"I knew you didn't completely forget," Tom commented, his smile brightening as he accepted that slender package and unwrapped it with all the finesse of a very small boy, tearing the paper away. A rolled-up piece of parchment, tied closed with one of the ribbons William used for his queue, was revealed. His heart beat quickly in his chest as Tom untied the ribbon and unrolled the parchment.
Written on the parchment, in William's best handwriting, was a poem he had spent months writing and re-writing until he felt it was perfect. He'd intended to give it to his friend for Tom's birthday, but it hadn't been ready then, so William had given him a new collection of queue ribbons, because the old ones had been looking very ragged. Now, however, Tom was reading the poem and his fellow lieutenant fidgeted anxiously as he waited for some sort of reaction. For once, Tom's face was inscrutable. Finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, William asked, very quietly, "Tom?"
"Yes, Will?" Blue eyes lifted from the parchment to meet grey.
He paused, Tom's voice sounding just as inscrutable as his face looked. Then he decided it was no use to hesitate. "Do you like the poem?"
"It's perfect, just like everything else you write." There was no mistaking the sincerity in Tom's voice. "I'm not sure if I understand the meaning, though."
William gathered up all his courage. "Well, tell me what you think it means and I'll tell you if you're right or not."
"I think it means you love whoever the intended recipient is," Tom explained, confusion in his eyes as he glanced from the parchment to William and back again. "Which would be me, since you gave me the poem."
The poet slowly nodded, his heart almost stopping in his chest as he hesitantly replied, "Yes, that's true, Tom." He rushed to add before Tom could say anything. "I don't expect your love in return, but I wanted you to know that you are loved, by me at least, if not by anyone else."
"Thank you, Will." Tom carefully rolled up the parchment and tied the ribbon around it.
He nodded, his heart sinking, wondering if that was all the reaction he was going to get out of his friend. "You're welcome, Tom."
"There's a particular poem I think you should read in that book I gave you," Tom told him, picking up the notebook and flipping to the very last page.
Frowning a little, William gave his friend a puzzled look before turning his attention to the page indicated. He gasped when he read it because only five words were written on it: I love you, William Mowett. "You mean it, Tom?"
"It looks like we both had special plans for this Christmas." Tom nodded, reaching up to cup William's cheek with a hand that shook ever so slightly.
Smiling, tears sliding unabashedly down his cheeks, William covered Tom's hand with his own. "What do you say to us staying in here all day?"
"I think it's a wonderful idea." Tom smiled and William's breath caught in his throat. It was nothing like any other smile that usually graced his friend's face. It was better and more beautiful. And it was all his.
Still smiling, William leaned forward so his lips met Tom's in a soft, sweet kiss. The first of many they would share if he had anything to say about it. "Happy Christmas, Tom."
"Happy Christmas, Will."
End
Pairing/Characters: William Mowett and Tom Pullings
Rating: PG
Fandom: Master and Commander (movie)
Word Count: 973
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: Tom and Will exchange special Christmas gifts.
Notes/Warnings: Written in honour of the holiday. Rating for kissage. No beta
Happy Christmas
"Wake up, Will!" He groaned when his friend shouted and burrowed deeper under his covers, determined not to get up yet.
William Mowett was not an early riser. He preferred standing late watches to early ones. So, it was beyond him why his best friend, Tom Pullings, could not only be awake early in the morning, but disgustingly chipper, too. "Go away, Tom. I want to sleep."
"Not today you're not!" Tom yanked the covers away, leaving William to shiver in the cold winter air.
He barely opened his eyes to glare at his soon-to-be-former best friend. "Bloody hell, Tom, can't you let me sleep in for once? We're on shore leave."
"You've forgotten the date, haven't you?" Tom's grin didn't dim in the slightest as he settled cross-legged on the bed beside his stout friend.
Sighing, William reluctantly sat up, scrubbing his eyes. "I suppose I have. They tend to run together sometimes."
"It's all right, Will." A gaily-wrapped package was pushed into William's lap and he stared down at it, the reason for Tom's more-chipper-than-usual mood suddenly suggesting itself to him. "Happy Christmas!"
Guilt for his ill humour clawed at William now. He should have known Tom wouldn't have woken him up early without a good reason. His slender friend knew better than to disturb his sleep when they were on leave together. He slowly lifted his head to meet his friend's eyes. "Sorry for being cranky, Tom."
"Just open your gift, Will." If it were possible, Tom's grin brightened even further, almost lighting up the room.
Nodding, William carefully opened the package in his lap. Inside, he found a notebook with a collection of poetry by various poets, each one copied faithfully in Tom's neat handwriting. He was speechless. He'd never once considered that Tom had actually listened while he talked about his favourite poets and poems. He'd thought his friend was just indulging his love of poetry. Blinking away the dust that had somehow gotten into his eyes, he looked up at the other man. "Thank you, Tom."
"You're welcome, Will." Tom's smile was shy this time, but pleased that his gift had been chosen well and thought out.
Getting up, William walked over to his dunnage and withdrew Tom's present. Seating himself opposite his friend, he offered it to him. "This is yours. Happy Christmas."
"I knew you didn't completely forget," Tom commented, his smile brightening as he accepted that slender package and unwrapped it with all the finesse of a very small boy, tearing the paper away. A rolled-up piece of parchment, tied closed with one of the ribbons William used for his queue, was revealed. His heart beat quickly in his chest as Tom untied the ribbon and unrolled the parchment.
Written on the parchment, in William's best handwriting, was a poem he had spent months writing and re-writing until he felt it was perfect. He'd intended to give it to his friend for Tom's birthday, but it hadn't been ready then, so William had given him a new collection of queue ribbons, because the old ones had been looking very ragged. Now, however, Tom was reading the poem and his fellow lieutenant fidgeted anxiously as he waited for some sort of reaction. For once, Tom's face was inscrutable. Finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, William asked, very quietly, "Tom?"
"Yes, Will?" Blue eyes lifted from the parchment to meet grey.
He paused, Tom's voice sounding just as inscrutable as his face looked. Then he decided it was no use to hesitate. "Do you like the poem?"
"It's perfect, just like everything else you write." There was no mistaking the sincerity in Tom's voice. "I'm not sure if I understand the meaning, though."
William gathered up all his courage. "Well, tell me what you think it means and I'll tell you if you're right or not."
"I think it means you love whoever the intended recipient is," Tom explained, confusion in his eyes as he glanced from the parchment to William and back again. "Which would be me, since you gave me the poem."
The poet slowly nodded, his heart almost stopping in his chest as he hesitantly replied, "Yes, that's true, Tom." He rushed to add before Tom could say anything. "I don't expect your love in return, but I wanted you to know that you are loved, by me at least, if not by anyone else."
"Thank you, Will." Tom carefully rolled up the parchment and tied the ribbon around it.
He nodded, his heart sinking, wondering if that was all the reaction he was going to get out of his friend. "You're welcome, Tom."
"There's a particular poem I think you should read in that book I gave you," Tom told him, picking up the notebook and flipping to the very last page.
Frowning a little, William gave his friend a puzzled look before turning his attention to the page indicated. He gasped when he read it because only five words were written on it: I love you, William Mowett. "You mean it, Tom?"
"It looks like we both had special plans for this Christmas." Tom nodded, reaching up to cup William's cheek with a hand that shook ever so slightly.
Smiling, tears sliding unabashedly down his cheeks, William covered Tom's hand with his own. "What do you say to us staying in here all day?"
"I think it's a wonderful idea." Tom smiled and William's breath caught in his throat. It was nothing like any other smile that usually graced his friend's face. It was better and more beautiful. And it was all his.
Still smiling, William leaned forward so his lips met Tom's in a soft, sweet kiss. The first of many they would share if he had anything to say about it. "Happy Christmas, Tom."
"Happy Christmas, Will."
End