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It’s the golden stage of autumn, when the leaves change their color but still hold on to the branches. When the drizzles are still warm and the sky is a soft blue with scattered shreds of light grey clouds.
Fitz and Hunter are taking a walk in the forest. It’s their last one.
They are silent. The crunch of the leaves under their boots is loud.
After a while, they reach a little hill from where they have a nice look over sandy brown fields and auburn trees. They stop there, standing side by side, their shoulders brushing easily. The world is peaceful here.
But it’s just a facade. Under it, everything’s ugly and torn.
There’s no escaping the real world. Oh, Fitz thought about it. Thought about it in his bed, a book laying open on his chest, images of Hunter floating through his mind. He thought about running away. They could live in a lonely hut in the woods. Only the two of them. They would be alright. Fitz was good at building things with his hands, Hunter was good at hunting and cooking. They would be alright. The world wouldn’t see them.
However, those are just daydreams, Fitz knows. He’s not a fool. Only a dreamer from time to time, when the circumstances allow it.
He throws a careful glance at Hunter who looks deep in thought. His eyes are like steel in the dim autumn light.
The sun is already sinking. This day will come to an end like every other does, no matter how much Fitz wants to stop the ticking clock.
“Do you really have to leave?” He asks reluctantly. Pronouncing the words makes it so real.
Hunter sighs. He looks down, scratching his boot over the firm earth of the forest floor. “I don’t want to. But I have to. I’m sorry.”
Fitz nods. He swallows around the lump in his throat. The next words don’t want to leave his lips. He has to force them out. “But you’ll come back, won’t you?”
Hunter looks at him and for a moment, Fitz feels so scared. Because people left before. People left and never came back.
Maybe, Hunter is going to find someone else while he’s away. Maybe, he is going to decide that Fitz isn’t worth returning to this quiet boring sleepy village somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Or maybe, he is going to die. That is the scenario Fitz wants to think about the least. But it forces itself on him. On them. Because this is a war. And people die in wars.
Fitz’s stomach clenches and he’s shivering. He feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes and it startles him. He’s not supposed to cry. Men don’t cry, Leopold. Be a man for once, it’s worse enough you’re not able to serve your country.
His father’s voice. A familiar ghost haunting him.
Fitz wants to turn away, feeling weak and foolish.
But then Hunter steps in front of him, cupping his face in his calloused hands and making him look up. “Hey. Of course I will,” he says softly. “I will always come back to you, Fitz.”
Always …
“I wish I could come with you.” To look after you. To protect you. I’m not strong. I have never carried a weapon before. But I could, for you …
Only, he can’t. To his father’s great shame and Fitz’s shock, he was declared unfit for battle. The doctor didn’t need long to for his decision. Too delicate, he said. Too sickish. And Fitz was pale on this day. He was coughing. So he tried again, because he couldn’t stand how his father was looking at him. He asked the doctor to take another look. Please.
But the man shook his head and shot him a stern glance. “Go home, young man. Be glad you still can,” he mumbled, turning away.
Thankfully, Fitz’s father was transferred soon and now Fitz only has to read about how useless and pathetic he is, in his father’s angry letters from the frontlines.
“I would come with you,” Fitz emphasizes. I should …
Hunter sighs. “No. You shouldn’t think like this. I would worry about you every single second. I’m glad you can stay home. I’m glad you’ll be safe. I’m glad. And don’t worry about me. I’ll manage. I’m tough as an old boot,” he grins crookedly.
Fitz can’t smile. He can’t control the tear that makes its way from his eye down to his chin. He can’t control the impulse to hug Hunter. So he does. He wraps his arms around Hunter and presses his face against his chest. And when Hunter mumbles his name, softly, Fitz kisses him. The kiss is one of the more passionate they shared. They don’t have to hide here. Don’t have to hold back. So they don’t.
Despite Fitz’s careful protests, despite his anxious looks around - because what if there’s anyone watching? - Hunter makes him lie in the leaves and touches him like he’s starving. Their love-making is like a wildfire. Desperate and heated. When it’s over, they cling to each other, and Hunter whispers once more, “I’ll come back. I promise.”
Fitz wants to believe him. It’s all he can do now.
Days later, Hunter is leaving in his rough uniform. Fitz watches him enter the truck that will bring him to the rest of the army. He watches Hunter slipping on the driver’s seat. He wishes he could kiss Hunter goodbye another time. They already did it like a thousand times. But it still doesn’t feel like it’s enough. They don’t know when this will be over. It could be years.
Hunter looks back at Fitz one last time and his eyes scream I love you .
Fitz smiles at him carefully. “Drive safely,” he says quietly. Don’t die out there …
The truck’s engines start roaring and soon, it turns around a corner. Gone.
Fitz stares at the dusty street, until the rain makes him go inside.