Chapter Text
Melbourne, Australia. 28th of June, 1914.
“James!” David cried, giggling. “Don’t tickle me, you said you would stop!” James laughed at David’s distress, but ceased and brushed his hair out of his eyes.
“Stop being so cute when you squeal.”
“You know that’s a natural talent. I cannot simply turn it off, James.” He gazed up at his boyfriend spread over him, holding himself up above the bed.
“You’re beautiful, you know?”
And it was true. James Rodriguez had fair skin, short blond hair, and the biggest, bluest eyes you’d ever seen. It looked as though the sky and the sea had crashed inside the iris, creating a colour unlike any David had ever seen. His brilliant teeth shone as his pink lips curled in a smile, and all six foot one of James collapsed next to him, pushing David’s hair back from his face.
“Not as pretty as you.”
This wasn’t true. David Jason was of fairly average height, had pockmarked skin that seemed to be in the package deal of being seventeen years old, dark brown hair and ordinary brown eyes.
Oh yeah, and he was a cripple.
David had been born with congenital talipes equinovarus, more commonly known as clubfoot. Being born into a poor family, with no one having had much of an education, his foot had remained deformed his whole life, and he now depended heavily on his cane. He hadn’t believed that anybody would stand him, because of this, and yet he met James at a pub one night and the two had instantly hit it off.
James must have seen the doubt in David’s eyes, because he said, “Dave, you’re beautiful. Don’t beat yourself up, if it’s your foot, that doesn’t matter. I love you, okay? And I love everything about you.”
David nodded, and took James’ face in his hands and kissed him chastely. James smiled, once they broke apart, and brought him back in.
3rd of March, 1915.
“Hey Dave. I have an idea.” James’s face was flushed, and David smiled at the pure excitement on his face.
“Hey, honey. What is it?”
“I want to sign up for the war. I want to fight for the mother country.”
David’s smile dropped.
“You can’t, you know that they don’t accept homosexuals, please, this won’t just ruin you, it will shame your whole family! James, you can’t!”
James looked put out. The despair on his face was almost enough to shatter David’s resolve.
“I-I hadn’t thought about that.” He admitted. “I just saw a sign and it said ‘The Mother Country Needs You!’ and I felt compelled to join up. I-I did not hesitate to think of the ramifications. I am sorry, David.”
David felt like crying. But he merely nodded, and held his arms out for a hug. James obliged, but pulled away after a moment.
“I still want to go.”
“What? James-“
“I can hide the fact that I’m homosexual. I can tell everyone that I’m single. They’re desperate, they won’t question it.”
David nodded, the worry in his eyes still paramount.
“If it means this much to you, we’ll find a way.”
James smiled brilliantly, washing away David’s distrust.
“I love you, David,” he said, and engulfed the boy in a hug.
Melbourne Pier, 20th April 1915.
The army uniform wasn’t the most fashionable outfit, but it merely made James seem to glow brighter. The sun shone despite the winter fumes, hidden behind his head, and it made him look like an angel.
Not that David didn’t think he already did.
James was tall and strong, filling out the uniform well. He had the sleeves rolled up, tanned forearms reaching out to David.
Their public goodbye was brief, a mere tap of the shoulder and a whispered I love you on both sides, and a solemn wave as James stepped onto the ramp leading into the ship’s hull. His fellow soldiers clapped him on his back, and James swallowed the feeling of longing and regret and buried it, putting on a brave smile and agreeing to deal the first round of cards.
Gallipoli, Turkey. 17th of September, 1915.
The gun shells scattered around him. It was four in the afternoon, and James was parched. His throat burned, his allocated daily water supply having run out hours previously. A shuddering cough racked his body, and he felt as though he was going to die.
“Oi, buddy, have some of mine. Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.” It was Arthur, one of James’ closest friends.
“You sure, mate?” A nod. “Cheers.” James took a swig from the canteen, letting the smooth liquid course down his dry, burning throat. He swallowed once, and let out a sigh.
“Thanks, mate. I owe you.”
“Whatever he owes you, you aren’t getting it for a while yet.”
It was the voice of the Colonel, a nice buddy named Jonas. Right now, he didn’t look as ecstatic as usual.
“Rodriguez, I’m going to need you to come with me.”
James nodded, confused. He followed Jonas down a small trench dug specifically for officials to get through if it was ever needed. They were told to be kept clear when possible, so James knew this had to be something serious.
After the tunnel opened again, he saw he had entered a room with a desk, a light and three chairs. He was shoved roughly back onto one of them, the impact of the hard wood clanging through his spine.
“We have received intelligence that you were in a homosexual relationship with an unspecified man prior to becoming a soldier. It is explicit that you may not be partial to other males whilst enlisted in the army. We must either accept your resignation, or you will be dishonourably discharged within 48 hours.”
James knew what David would have begged him to do. The safer option, the least questions asked, the overall nicer option for everyone.
But James was proud, and loyal.
Which is why he stood up furiously, the force driving his chair to the other side of the makeshift room.
“Why, why in this godforsaken earth must I leave the army because of something I have done previously to joining? I have not engaged in homosexual acts whilst enlisted, I have not participated in any such thing since the day I left Melbourne, and what I do in my private life is no concern of yours! My personal outlook on things may be different to yours, I concede, but you do not discriminate against race or religion? Why sexuality?”
James, red in the face, took a breath before continuing.
“I love my boyfriend. He is the smartest, most incredible pianist, and I shouldn’t be kept from my job, my duty, because of my relationship with him! He is the light of my life, and the purity of his demeanour is something folks like you will never understand! Love! He loves me! Can you imagine? I don’t really think so, cause you’re all stuck up and old-fashioned! I’m nineteen! Born at the very end of the century, while you’re all still stuck in the middle! You can cast me away, but I will fight back! I will make sure that the entire country knows of your bullshit! You will experience the downfall in the end, count on it!”
There was a very pregnant pause.
“You bought some rum?” The officer raised an eyebrow.
“It was anaesthetic. A bullet grazed me.”
“I take it you won’t hand in your resignation?” James shook his head. “Very well. You have been formally discharged, with no pension or of that calibre. You will be sent to Australia on the next available ship, without your uniform and without your badges. I’d like those back now please.”
James obliged, and the Colonel stamped a form.
“Very well. Take your things and make your way to the cove. A boat will arrive tomorrow morning.”
James nodded, and strode defiantly out of the small den without a ‘Yes, sir.’
Melbourne, Australia. 16th of November, 1915.
It was hot at the port. The steam from the boats muffled the already dense air as James stepped off the ramp, dressed in cargo pants and an ordinary shirt. He looked around, blue eyes deadened from the horrors of the trenches, and looked around for David.
There was nobody there to see him.
He shrugged, feigning disinterest. Trudging back the familiar way to his home he shared with David, he passed all of the same familiar buildings, the same tracks and trees and houses. Nothing had changed.
Except him.
The door was the same solid wood. James pushed it open, and called out into the lone halls.
“Dave? David, are you home?”
“I’m in the bedroom.”
Relief coursed through James. “I’m coming!”
David was sitting on the bed. He had his piano next to him, his cane lying on the side of it. As James slowly closed the door, he looked up.
“Oh, my god, James, you’re okay, baby-” He broke down, sobs racking his small body. James sat down next to him, throwing his arms around the slight figure of the man he loved so dearly, and began rubbing circles around his back, whispering comforting words into his ear and kissing his cheek and neck whenever he could.
Both boys sat there, broken. But they were on their way to healing. Because they had each other.