Between the Lines (8/17)
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Jason propped his chin on his fist, staring out over the ocean. Chad leaned closer to him, looking past him out the small window.
“That’s a lot of blue.”
Jason nodded. “I’m trying very hard not to think about crashing.”
Chad smiled. “I think we’ll be OK.”
Jason turned to face him, changing the subject. “How could I not know that he crashed? I can’t get over that.”
“He never mentioned it?”
“Not that I know of. But it would explain some of the rather oblique references in letters and poems.”
Chad sighed. “It’s crazy, isn’t it, that he would survive a plane crash and a month-plus in the winter in the middle of nowhere, and then die in a car accident.”
Jason shrugged. “More people die in car accidents than plane crashes.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No,” Jason said, smiling. “I agree. It is weird. And he had driven in that area so many times, too. He was less than a block from home. I think it must have been jet lag.”
Chad looked at him, furrowing his brow in confusion.
“He was coming home from France,” Jason explained. “It was his last visit to Sarah; it was late at night, and he had just been on the final branch of an international flight.”
“Travis has wondered aloud if it was really an accident.”
“If he wrapped his car around a tree on purpose?”
Chad shrugged. “His tone had been rather depressed, hadn’t it?”
Jason turned to look out the window again. “I don’t know. Sarah’s letter to Kitty after the accident implied that he had been very happy and content when he left. Optimistic about the future, even.”
“Hmm,” Chad commented.
***
Kevin looked around their little home camp, trying to memorize the appearance of the place. Scotty was away at the moment, attempting to scare up some dinner. They still had rations left, but the supplies were dwindling and needed to be preserved. Even though his arm still twinged and his ribs left him slightly stiff, Kevin was mostly healed. Scotty had commented, and Kevin had agreed, that they should prepare to head out tomorrow in the hopes of finding sympathetic French individuals or even British or American troops. Kevin had to admit he would miss this little refuge, and his reprieve from the war, and most of all, Scotty.
There was a rustling nearby, and Kevin ducked back into the cover of the alcove. He reached one hand out, resting it slightly above the gun at his side. His fingers twitched and then Scotty emerged, carrying a small, dead animal in one hand, head bent as he watched his feet. Kevin smiled, turning away from his gun and reaching out for a handful of snow instead. He packed it quickly, and then waited for Scotty to get close enough. Then he launched it, hissing at the protest in his arm.
The snowball hit Scotty square in the chest. He stumbled backwards, staring down in surprise. Then he looked up, shocked, at Kevin. Kevin fell backwards, laughing.
“I see you’re feeling much better,” Scotty observed dryly, fighting a smile. Kevin merely laughed louder.
Scotty raised his head slightly, indicating the moral high ground as he turned towards where they usually built a fire. Crouching, he put the animal down and then immediately scooped up some snow. He didn’t have time to make a real snowball, so he merely sent as much flying in Kevin’s direction as he could. Kevin ducked, rushing Scotty and knocking him fully to the ground.
They wrestled, laughing and gasping as handfuls of snow went into faces and down the necks of coats. Finally, Scotty got the upper hand, pinning a squirming Kevin to the ground. Kevin stared up at him, patches of red on his cheeks from the cold and laughter. Panting, Scotty stared back. And then he dropped down, kissing Kevin full on the lips.
The mood changed quickly. There was still heavy breathing, of course, but it became much deeper, each exhalation accompanied by small moans and groans. Both men still laughed, but they were chuckles of pleasure and slight disbelief rather than near-hysterical guffaws of entertainment. Scotty had a hard time holding himself up as his hands were busy trying to find their way through Kevin’s layers of Army-issued clothing. He never stopped kissing Kevin though, and Kevin himself responded enthusiastically. He unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped Scotty’s trousers just as he slipped his lips down to Scotty’s chin and neck. He ripped off his glove and then squeezed his hand through the open flaps of Scotty’s pants.
“Cold!” Scotty gasped, almost disregarding the fact that Kevin’s fingers were touching his erection as he focused on the temperature of said fingers instead. He pulled back slightly, attempting to get away. “So cold!”
“Sorry,” Kevin said, wincing in sympathy. “Snow.”
But Scotty was already recovering, lowering himself closer to Kevin even as he snuck his own hand past Kevin’s waistband.
“Oh God!” Kevin exclaimed, half in pleasure and half in discomfort.
“Just…give it a moment,” Scotty breathed out, smiling. “It gets better, I promise.”
“I can’t wait any damn longer,” Kevin objected, reaching his free hand around Scotty’s neck and pulling him close for a kiss even as he sped up the movement of his other hand.
Scotty responded in kind, and both men gave into the desire they had been fighting for far too long. They couldn’t do too much, considering the constraints of their clothes and the snow beneath them. But they could do enough.
***
Chad and Jason had arranged to fly first to England and then go the rest of the way the next day. They walked down the main street of the small town, heading to a nearby pub. Jason looked around, observing needlessly, “This is where he stayed after he made it out France, according to the military records.”
Chad nodded. “He spent two weeks here, right?”
“Yeah, about. They needed to debrief and give him a medical check-up before he was cleared to go back to battle.”
“I can’t believe we don’t know anything about the other survivor.”
Jason shrugged. “The joy of dealing with historical archives. Misfiled papers, loss and damage.”
“Do you think they knew each other? Was it just coincidence they happened to survive and meet up with the same rescuers?”
“I…don’t know. I don’t know if we’ll ever know.”
Jason stopped walking suddenly. He turned around in a circle several times. “He was here. I recognize this place. This intersection, right here. Look, a fountain. One way leading up to a church, the other into the heart of the town. All of this was described in a poem.”
“Really?” Chad asked, excited.
“Mmm. There were phrases about unknown destinations, and walking together making promises for the future, and saying vows in front of a church they would never say inside it.”
“Vows? And the future with whom?”
“I don’t know,” Jason shrugged. “The interpretation has always been that any reference to a forbidden - temporarily, at least - lover was Rebecca. Everything’s changed now.”
“This ‘S’ person,” Chad assumed. “Could she have been a part of the French Resistance?”
“Possibly. It would be the right timing.”
Jason sighed, still clearly confused and curious. Chad sighed. “Look, we’re both fried. Let’s go back to the hotel and sleep for a while. Maybe it will make more sense with fresh eyes.”
Jason nodded as he followed Chad in the direction of their hotel.
***
Kevin could feel the warmth of sunshine on his cheek. He opened his eyes, smiling at the beauty of the stained glass windows above him. He was feeling very satiated - from the meat Scotty had eventually cooked and their second (and third) rounds of love-making. Once they managed to move into their little nest in the alcove, they were able to maneuver much easier and had taken as much advantage of the relative warmth as they could.
Scotty slept now, his head resting on Kevin’s chest as he breathed slowly. Kevin savored the feel of his bare skin, and he ran his hand through Scotty’s hair. Then he sighed, looking up again. For the first time in his entire life, he had fallen in love. It was amazing.
And he knew it couldn’t last.
But maybe he could drag out their time as long as he could. Scotty shifted, waking up. He glanced up at Kevin, smiled softly and nuzzled into him.
“I’ve been thinking,” Kevin said roughly.
“Hmm?” Scotty asked, tracing his fingers lightly over Kevin’s chest.
“My - uh, my ankle is still giving me some trouble. And I’m afraid I strained my arm again earlier.”
Scotty stopped his movement and stayed very quiet for a few beats. Finally, he spoke up. “Maybe we should stay here a few more days. We shouldn’t risk it if you’re not ready.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Kevin said, unable to fight the small smile that came to his lips.
Stroll (1949)
The town is behind us,
And our imagination in front.
There could be pain and sorrow and death,
Or happiness beyond all measure.
We walk side by side past a fountain,
Our hands not quite touching.
Talking of our hopes, our dreams,
Our wishes for each other.
We make commitments to one another,
Promises we won’t admit are impossible to keep.
We stand in front of, outside a church.
Swearing vows we could never say inside it.
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Jason propped his chin on his fist, staring out over the ocean. Chad leaned closer to him, looking past him out the small window.
“That’s a lot of blue.”
Jason nodded. “I’m trying very hard not to think about crashing.”
Chad smiled. “I think we’ll be OK.”
Jason turned to face him, changing the subject. “How could I not know that he crashed? I can’t get over that.”
“He never mentioned it?”
“Not that I know of. But it would explain some of the rather oblique references in letters and poems.”
Chad sighed. “It’s crazy, isn’t it, that he would survive a plane crash and a month-plus in the winter in the middle of nowhere, and then die in a car accident.”
Jason shrugged. “More people die in car accidents than plane crashes.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No,” Jason said, smiling. “I agree. It is weird. And he had driven in that area so many times, too. He was less than a block from home. I think it must have been jet lag.”
Chad looked at him, furrowing his brow in confusion.
“He was coming home from France,” Jason explained. “It was his last visit to Sarah; it was late at night, and he had just been on the final branch of an international flight.”
“Travis has wondered aloud if it was really an accident.”
“If he wrapped his car around a tree on purpose?”
Chad shrugged. “His tone had been rather depressed, hadn’t it?”
Jason turned to look out the window again. “I don’t know. Sarah’s letter to Kitty after the accident implied that he had been very happy and content when he left. Optimistic about the future, even.”
“Hmm,” Chad commented.
***
Kevin looked around their little home camp, trying to memorize the appearance of the place. Scotty was away at the moment, attempting to scare up some dinner. They still had rations left, but the supplies were dwindling and needed to be preserved. Even though his arm still twinged and his ribs left him slightly stiff, Kevin was mostly healed. Scotty had commented, and Kevin had agreed, that they should prepare to head out tomorrow in the hopes of finding sympathetic French individuals or even British or American troops. Kevin had to admit he would miss this little refuge, and his reprieve from the war, and most of all, Scotty.
There was a rustling nearby, and Kevin ducked back into the cover of the alcove. He reached one hand out, resting it slightly above the gun at his side. His fingers twitched and then Scotty emerged, carrying a small, dead animal in one hand, head bent as he watched his feet. Kevin smiled, turning away from his gun and reaching out for a handful of snow instead. He packed it quickly, and then waited for Scotty to get close enough. Then he launched it, hissing at the protest in his arm.
The snowball hit Scotty square in the chest. He stumbled backwards, staring down in surprise. Then he looked up, shocked, at Kevin. Kevin fell backwards, laughing.
“I see you’re feeling much better,” Scotty observed dryly, fighting a smile. Kevin merely laughed louder.
Scotty raised his head slightly, indicating the moral high ground as he turned towards where they usually built a fire. Crouching, he put the animal down and then immediately scooped up some snow. He didn’t have time to make a real snowball, so he merely sent as much flying in Kevin’s direction as he could. Kevin ducked, rushing Scotty and knocking him fully to the ground.
They wrestled, laughing and gasping as handfuls of snow went into faces and down the necks of coats. Finally, Scotty got the upper hand, pinning a squirming Kevin to the ground. Kevin stared up at him, patches of red on his cheeks from the cold and laughter. Panting, Scotty stared back. And then he dropped down, kissing Kevin full on the lips.
The mood changed quickly. There was still heavy breathing, of course, but it became much deeper, each exhalation accompanied by small moans and groans. Both men still laughed, but they were chuckles of pleasure and slight disbelief rather than near-hysterical guffaws of entertainment. Scotty had a hard time holding himself up as his hands were busy trying to find their way through Kevin’s layers of Army-issued clothing. He never stopped kissing Kevin though, and Kevin himself responded enthusiastically. He unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped Scotty’s trousers just as he slipped his lips down to Scotty’s chin and neck. He ripped off his glove and then squeezed his hand through the open flaps of Scotty’s pants.
“Cold!” Scotty gasped, almost disregarding the fact that Kevin’s fingers were touching his erection as he focused on the temperature of said fingers instead. He pulled back slightly, attempting to get away. “So cold!”
“Sorry,” Kevin said, wincing in sympathy. “Snow.”
But Scotty was already recovering, lowering himself closer to Kevin even as he snuck his own hand past Kevin’s waistband.
“Oh God!” Kevin exclaimed, half in pleasure and half in discomfort.
“Just…give it a moment,” Scotty breathed out, smiling. “It gets better, I promise.”
“I can’t wait any damn longer,” Kevin objected, reaching his free hand around Scotty’s neck and pulling him close for a kiss even as he sped up the movement of his other hand.
Scotty responded in kind, and both men gave into the desire they had been fighting for far too long. They couldn’t do too much, considering the constraints of their clothes and the snow beneath them. But they could do enough.
***
Chad and Jason had arranged to fly first to England and then go the rest of the way the next day. They walked down the main street of the small town, heading to a nearby pub. Jason looked around, observing needlessly, “This is where he stayed after he made it out France, according to the military records.”
Chad nodded. “He spent two weeks here, right?”
“Yeah, about. They needed to debrief and give him a medical check-up before he was cleared to go back to battle.”
“I can’t believe we don’t know anything about the other survivor.”
Jason shrugged. “The joy of dealing with historical archives. Misfiled papers, loss and damage.”
“Do you think they knew each other? Was it just coincidence they happened to survive and meet up with the same rescuers?”
“I…don’t know. I don’t know if we’ll ever know.”
Jason stopped walking suddenly. He turned around in a circle several times. “He was here. I recognize this place. This intersection, right here. Look, a fountain. One way leading up to a church, the other into the heart of the town. All of this was described in a poem.”
“Really?” Chad asked, excited.
“Mmm. There were phrases about unknown destinations, and walking together making promises for the future, and saying vows in front of a church they would never say inside it.”
“Vows? And the future with whom?”
“I don’t know,” Jason shrugged. “The interpretation has always been that any reference to a forbidden - temporarily, at least - lover was Rebecca. Everything’s changed now.”
“This ‘S’ person,” Chad assumed. “Could she have been a part of the French Resistance?”
“Possibly. It would be the right timing.”
Jason sighed, still clearly confused and curious. Chad sighed. “Look, we’re both fried. Let’s go back to the hotel and sleep for a while. Maybe it will make more sense with fresh eyes.”
Jason nodded as he followed Chad in the direction of their hotel.
***
Kevin could feel the warmth of sunshine on his cheek. He opened his eyes, smiling at the beauty of the stained glass windows above him. He was feeling very satiated - from the meat Scotty had eventually cooked and their second (and third) rounds of love-making. Once they managed to move into their little nest in the alcove, they were able to maneuver much easier and had taken as much advantage of the relative warmth as they could.
Scotty slept now, his head resting on Kevin’s chest as he breathed slowly. Kevin savored the feel of his bare skin, and he ran his hand through Scotty’s hair. Then he sighed, looking up again. For the first time in his entire life, he had fallen in love. It was amazing.
And he knew it couldn’t last.
But maybe he could drag out their time as long as he could. Scotty shifted, waking up. He glanced up at Kevin, smiled softly and nuzzled into him.
“I’ve been thinking,” Kevin said roughly.
“Hmm?” Scotty asked, tracing his fingers lightly over Kevin’s chest.
“My - uh, my ankle is still giving me some trouble. And I’m afraid I strained my arm again earlier.”
Scotty stopped his movement and stayed very quiet for a few beats. Finally, he spoke up. “Maybe we should stay here a few more days. We shouldn’t risk it if you’re not ready.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Kevin said, unable to fight the small smile that came to his lips.
Stroll (1949)
The town is behind us,
And our imagination in front.
There could be pain and sorrow and death,
Or happiness beyond all measure.
We walk side by side past a fountain,
Our hands not quite touching.
Talking of our hopes, our dreams,
Our wishes for each other.
We make commitments to one another,
Promises we won’t admit are impossible to keep.
We stand in front of, outside a church.
Swearing vows we could never say inside it.
Next Chapter
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