A Letter From Home
Title: A Letter From Home
Author: poicale
Book: The Charioteer
Pairing: Ralph/Laurie
Rating: adult
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters and make no profit from them.
Notes:This was a challenge from my_cnnr to write Laurie writing Ralph a letter of a…er…sexy kind. I thought perhaps Ralph would have said Laurie was a girlfriend (with a slight change to the name) to keep the others in the Navy from becoming suspicious of the frequent correspondence. Also - I seem to recall that personal letters were reviewed in order that classified information wasn’t being passed, if that’s inaccurate…well…just pretend it’s true because it’s damn funny.
A Letter from Home
“Your girl gives the censorship boys the fits.” Fitzwilliam laughed as he dropped a letter onto Ralph’s desk. “Although, I think really they look forward to her letters.”
“I’ll tell her,” Ralph answered easily, “She likes to be shocking.”
Fitzwilliam laughed again, “She’s that and more if she keeps her word. Must be fun. Wish my wife would take after her - those letters must help ease the pain of being separated.” With a final wink and a laugh, the other man left to finish his deliveries.
Ralph looked down at the letter. Although he felt impatient to open it, wanting to see a full page - more by the feel of the letter - of Laurie’s writing, he knew from previous letters that it would be best to read it alone, once he got back to his bunk.
Dearest Ralph,
The village looks lovely this fall, the leaves all changing color and falling. Mr. Wythe insists I shouldn’t rake the leaves myself and so he does it for me, when his arthritis allows.
There was news about the family - Ralph had begun to think of Laurie’s family as his own - and then the letter moved on to Laurie’s struggles to cook with the limited array of rationed food, which made him laugh out loud. He’d begun to wonder if Fitzwilliam had been winding him up when he turned the page over and read the next few lines.
I miss you so terribly. If my memory is correct, I think you should still have your summer tan. I love tracing the edges of your skin where the golden turns to pale. I think it’s been so long I’ve forgotten how you taste when I kiss you, lick you, and swallow you. I can only imagine how you would look, splayed out on the bed.
Ralph swallowed hard and shifted on the bed, one hand snaking down into his trousers to relieve the ache that had been growing since he opened the letter.
I imagine how your body would feel on mine, the weight of it pressing me into the bed as we kiss. I love kissing you. I love hearing you whisper my name when it all overtakes you. If my wishing could end the war and bring you home, you would have been with me months ago. Of course, I know - don’t think to lecture me in your next letter - I know we’re all feeling the same way.
I love you very much.
Yours,
L.
Ralph set the letter down, breathing harshly as he wiped his hand on the convenient towel he’d remembered to set by him. It was the fall of 1943 and it had been almost two years since they had seen one another. He didn’t put too much stock in God, but he sent a prayer up, just in case, that it wouldn’t be another two years until they were together again.