Chapter Text
Ginger opened his eyes slowly and groaned at the bright light peeking in through the cracks of the curtain. He turned to the clock on the nightstand that read half past one before falling back onto his pillow. Even after a solid night’s rest, finally, he felt simply exhausted. He must have gone too far at the cast party, from what he could remember – it was still a bit of a blur. The next day had been as well – a haze of pain curled up in his bed as Miles zipped around, trying to help.
Speaking of which, where was Miles? Was he still there? Had he gone home?
A murmur from the other room answered his questions. Ginger couldn’t make out any words, but he was certain it was Miles. Whom he was speaking with, on the other hand, was beyond him – he couldn’t hear any responses. He must have been on the telephone.
“Miles?” he called out. “Miles, is that you?”
The murmur stopped. He cleared his throat and tried again.
“Miles?”
This time, he heard movement from the other room, and soon, the bedroom door opened, revealing Miles, in the flesh.
“Good morning,” he smiled gently, approaching the edge of the bed. “Or, rather, good afternoon – I’m afraid you’ve slept the morning away. Much needed sleep, then again. I was beginning to worry I’d lost you.” His tone on the last statement was playful, but something in his face, his eyes, suggested at least an ounce of truth.
“Oh, come now, you can’t get rid of me that easily,” Ginger said. “Like a fungus, or… the stain on my lip.”
“I like it just the same. How do you feel?”
“Like I spent an evening making a complete fool of myself.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘complete’,” Miles responded with a chuckle.
“Very well… what was the damage?”
“I hear that Elia was less than pleased. According to Antonie, you’re the worst date she’d had in years.”
“Is that who you were talking to?” Ginger asked. “I thought I heard you on the phone.”
Miles paused for a moment. “Yes, that was him. Just having a chat. No pains then?”
“Nothing major. It appears you kept me on the right track, even if my body didn’t agree.”
“Darling, if you wanted to survive the parties we led in London, you had to know the best hangover tricks. I like to think I convinced Aggie to cut her hair short so she wouldn’t need me to hold it for her while she vomited.” He sighed. “I’m glad I could help after the awful evening you had. I should have listened to you. You wanted a quiet night in, and instead, I brought you to the lions’ den… I’m sorry, truly, I am. I only want you to be happy. Can you forgive me?”
Miles’ intentions were sincere, Ginger didn’t even have to look at his face to know that. “I do. It’s all right,” he said. “I’m fine now.”
“Thank you,” Miles said, relieved. “You know me, I’m a romantic. I hoped sparks would fly between you and Elia.”
“Well, if there were any, I was very quick to put them out with my behavior.” He eyed the purple splotches on Miles’ neck, no doubt from Antonie’s mouth. “I ruined your evening, too, didn’t I?”
Miles’ fingers traced up to the marks and he smiled grimly. “No, not at all, no… it’s probably for the best nothing went further. It’s all done with, anyway.”
“How do you mean?”
Miles blinked back into focus. “It’s nothing, really. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Ginger looked at him imploringly. “He… We’ve broken things off between us, for good this time.”
“Oh Miles… what happened?”
“I’d… rather not go into much detail. It’s complicated. But it was coming, really, sooner or later. We were much better off as friends. He could always see right through me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, you didn’t… it’s nothing new, is it? Just the same old story time and time again – Miles… falls for the wrong man… gets his heart broken… throws himself a pity party… and then gets up the next day to do it all over again. It’s rather boring, come to think of it.”
Ginger shook his head. “I don’t believe Miles Maitland and ‘boring’ exist on the same planet together, let alone in the same room.”
Miles placed his hand on Ginger’s. “You’re too kind to me, Ginger, dear.”
Ginger glanced at his hand, then himself, and remembered he was no longer wearing the suit Miles adored so much. “Did you… put me in my pajamas?”
“I did, simply because you were covered in your own vomit. But before you get the wrong ideas, I did not peek. I may be a whore, but I’m still a gentleman, you know.”
“A gentlewhore?”
Miles laughed, one of his genuine giggles, warming Ginger within. “Precisely. Either way, you were still awake enough to do much of it yourself.”
“And then you spent yesterday nursing me back to health, putting up with all my feeble woes and complaints…”
Miles smiled. “It was the least I could do.”
“I don’t think anyone’s taken care of me this well.”
“Really? Not even Nina?”
Ginger chuckled lightly. “Oh, well, you know Nina – she’s jolly good at taking care of herself. And if not that, then making sure she’s taken care of.”
“She is, isn’t she?” Miles mused. “Even when she visited Oxford, she said she was coming to see me, but I always suspected she was searching for a husband. In fact, that’s how she met Adam. I suppose I’m somewhat to blame for your heartbreak then.”
“I wouldn’t say that. And besides, I’ve no doubt Adam’s taking much better care than I could.”
“Still… if it’s any consolation, I don’t think Nina knows what she’s missing out on.”
“Neither does Antonie. Or Tiger, for that matter.”
Miles’ breath hitched slightly between parted lips, his eyes darting between Ginger’s own as though trying to read something delicate.
“I’m – I’m sorry,” Ginger stumbled. “I shouldn’t have–”
“No, no,” Miles replied with a shaky smile. “No worries, really.” He looked at his watch and patted Ginger’s hand. “I should be… popping off. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. Do give me a ring if you need anything else.” Ginger’s shoulders slumped as Miles got up from the bed. “I promise you, next time, we’ll opt for a much quieter evening. And later, when you’re ready, we’ll find you a nice girl.”
“Stop saying that,” Ginger groaned. “I don’t want to find a nice girl, I want to spend time with you!”
Miles stopped. “Ginger, de–” He cleared his throat and shook his head. “You need to rest, you’re not feeling yourself.”
“Of course I am, damn it!” Ginger argued. “I’m in tip-top – well, not all of me is tip-top, but my head… I’ve still got my head, haven’t I?”
Miles chuckled dryly. “I’m not sure you do. But with a little more rest–”
“I’ve been resting all day!” Ginger ripped off the sheets and swung his legs over the side of the bed “I feel perfectly–” As he hopped to his feet, his sudden burst of energy, the first in over 24 hours, ceased and caught up with the rest of his body. He blinked through a dizzy spell and Miles grabbed him before he could take another step.
“Are you all right?” Miles asked, face filled with concern.
As his eyes adjusted from spots and static with each blink, Ginger looked at Miles – really looked at him – for what suddenly felt like the first time. His usually painted face was washed off with only the occasional smeared remains, and his tightly knit curls were messier, some hairs poking out in every odd direction. His clothes were gently crumpled, a sign he’d spent a night or two with them, with his brooch still close to his heart. It wasn’t the first time Ginger had caught himself staring at Miles, but he’d previously convinced himself it was due to the feminine features he decorated himself with; that he admired Miles in his makeup, the way he did his hair, his attire, his everything, because they reminded him of women, and, therefore, he was attracted to women, not Miles. But looking at Miles now – face bare, hair untamed, clothes wrinkled – there was no denial the admiration went further.
Miles helped him back onto the bed. “Perhaps I should call the doctor–”
“No, I’m… I’m fine, I’ll stay,” Ginger said in a small voice. He needed to stay seated to allow the wires to finally connect in his head. He gripped the sheets to have a hold of something, to keep himself grounded.
“You look faint,” Miles said, sitting on the edge of the bed again and gently placing the back of his hand against Ginger’s forehead. His chest fluttered, a feeling he’d been familiar with yet oblivious to around Miles, and it only grew as his fingers shifted from his forehead to his cheek. As Miles began to draw his hand away, Ginger took hold of it, pressing it further into his cheek. They stared at one another, two deer in headlights, and Ginger slowly let go.
Ginger steadied his breathing as he tried to organize his thoughts. He broke the silence between them by clearing his throat.
“There’s something I haven’t told you about me and Nina, about why things didn’t work for us,” he started. “Everyone and their third-uncle knows Nina didn’t marry me for love. But they don’t know I didn’t either. I mean… of course I loved her, we grew up together, you know, we were kids once, but… I didn’t love her the proper way a man should love a woman. And when you’re a bachelor as I once was, and a wealthy one at that, mind you… the longer you remain that way without even remotely courting, the more people start to… ask questions. So I thought that it was maybe time to settle down. And perhaps a part of me thought – knew – that she would be my only chance. My only chance to quiet those whispers. I didn’t want to take her away from Adam, not really, he just got the short end of the stick, bad luck… I thought if I didn’t claim her then… I wouldn’t have that chance again. She was the only woman I thought I could love. And the only woman I thought could love me back. And even if we weren’t entering our marriage for the right reasons, we could sort it out… but we never could, could we?”
Miles watched, his blue eyes pleading with anticipation.
“But being with you,” Ginger continued, “has been so utterly freeing. Whatever worries I have… they wash away when you’re here, vanish. And when you’re not here, it seems to me just about anything can make me think of you, big or small… I’ve never felt this way around anyone else. I’ve never felt… anything so intensely as I have with you.”
His eyes flickered between Miles’ eyes and lips, mere inches away from his own, and he realized Miles’ were doing the same. “May I do something I fear I might lose the courage to do if I don’t do it now?”
“Please do,” Miles whispered.
Ginger closed his eyes as they leaned into one another. The warmth of Miles’ lips on his own filled a fire in his body, and he raised his hand to his cheek to savor every last spark. When Miles began to pull away, Ginger nibbled gently on his lip to keep him there for just a moment longer before letting go.
He swallowed and watched Miles’ face, his eyes, for any indication of what he felt. “Well?”
“Well indeed,” Miles responded with just the faintest hint of a smile. “I can’t say I imagined you as a lip biter, per se.”
“But… you did imagine me?” Ginger grinned cheekily.
Miles chuckled. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t, you and your stunning eyes, cheekbones, freckles... but with you and Nina, I just assumed–”
“Forget about Nina,” Ginger said. “I don’t want to be thinking about anyone else but you.” He dove back in and Miles caressed his face, the very features he admired.
Once parted again, Miles remarked, “I think I pictured this moment to be a little more romantic than a post-hangover snog.”
Ginger groaned. “Oh lord, I must taste awful.” He sunk back into his pillow and covered his face with his hands.
Miles gently removed one of them. “You have plenty of time to recover and freshen up. As do I, I’m not much better.”
Ginger looked at Miles from where he lay on the bed. From his view, the light peeking out from the curtains gave Miles an undeniably angelic glow. “But look at you,” he said, watching in awe, “no matter what you do, you’re gorgeous, always.”
For a moment, Miles almost looked startled, but quickly replaced it with a tearful smile. “And you, my dear, are a dream come true.” He leaned forward and kissed his head.
At last, there was nothing left to hide, nothing left to pretend.