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Julian was quite sure that had the Captain not already been dead, he would have killed him by now. And it would’ve given him great pleasure.
Yes.
The Captain was getting on his last bloody nerve. He wasn’t even sure what the Captain was saying anymore. Julian had successfully managed to tone out the man’s incessant ordering what felt like three hours ago, and was frankly scared that if he thought any more about him all his hard work would be undone.
Julian had just been trying to have a peaceful game of chess with Robin. There was hardly anything else he could bloody well do. No. Alison had made him promise that he would be on his best behaviour while they finished setting up for their latest event. Or he would lose his privileges on the lap-top computer, and he couldn’t risk that. Just the other day he’d stumbled across a wonderful website during his latest perusal of the current House of Commons members. It had let him send any number of colourful threats to those bloody reds. Yes, he wished he’d had twitter back in his time. Would’ve saved him a bloody fortune on those personalised Christmas cards he’d had made up. Bloody marvellous fun.
The Captain, in fact, had been going on so bloody long that even Robin had had enough of him. The man had simply up and left him mid-game, with a grunt and a murderous glare at the Captain, as his only parting gesture.
The Captain’s issue had initially begun with the fact that the two men weren’t pulling their weight. Apparently, it was all hands-on deck, lest the whole operation crumble. Despite, the fact that Julian was the only one of them that actually had any bloody weight in the physical world. But this was of no consequence to the Captain, who seemed to be wholly unaware of his own inability to actually do anything useful.
Julian usually wasn’t so bothered by the man. Christ, everyone knew how tightly the Captain was wound. But the man had been trying his patience all bloody day, the Captain really was pushing him close to the edge. Every time the man brandished his bloody swagger stick in Julian’s direction, he added another location to the list of places he would love to shove it.
Luckily, for the Captain, every time he did that Julian also amended the list of reasons why he couldn’t just go and bloody box the man’s lights out. Admittedly, he couldn’t think of many reasons for that list at the current moment. So, he had resorted to repeating the one that he could think of over and over.
Julian had boxed for Cambridge and whilst the Captain may have been a man of military bearing, Julian refused to believe he had ever been in a fight. And Julian bloody well refused to be the man’s first.
That reason, however, was wearing thinner by the bloody minute.
Julian felt a sudden whack on the side of his head.
“What the bloody hell was that for?” The man exclaimed, looking up towards the Captain who was now towering over him.
“I’ve bally well been trying to ask you a question for the past five minutes. Have you not been listening, man?” The Captain waved his swagger stick in Julian’s face some more.
“Of course, I bloody well wasn’t listening,” Julian cried, looking at his watch that had long stopped ticking. “You’ve been going on for hours.”
The Captain glared down at him in disapproval. Christ, the man looked all set to go on another bloody rant. Julian thought he might die again if he was subjected to that.
So Julian did the one thing he knew could shut any chap up.
He wasn’t particularly sure what he’d been planning to do after the man had stopped talking. It had very much been an in the moment decision. But Julian could say with some certainty that he hadn’t been expecting to learn that the man’s lips were that bloody soft.
No. If anything, Julian had been expecting another bloody whack upside his head with the swagger stick.
He certainly hadn’t expected that the man would kiss him back. Or that the man would kiss him like this.
The Captain had surged forwards towards Julian. Or maybe he had pulled Julian further into him. He couldn’t tell. Julian just knew that as the Captain’s tongue tentatively slid over his lips, there wasn’t a single part of their bodies that weren’t touching. The man’s moustache tickled his face, and for a moment Julian thought he might laugh, but then there was a tongue in his mouth, and bloody hell…
Julian couldn’t help the whine that escaped him as the Captain settled his hand at the nape of his neck. Holding him firmly against him as the two men pulled, and pushed and rolled their bodies together. Gasping for the air that they didn’t need in each other’s mouths. Julian was sure that had he been alive he would’ve blamed his feelings of light-headedness on the complete lack of oxygen his body was getting. But Julian was dead, and had to grudgingly admit to himself that those feelings were because he was being held, kissed, and caressed with an urgency he hadn’t felt in years, even before his death.
Julian Fawcett was being thoroughly taken apart with each stroke of the man’s tongue against his own. Every time the man scraped his fingers against the base of Julian’s skull sent shockwaves through his body. The Captain’s fingers tensed and flexed against the slicked-back strands of Julian’s hair, like he yearend to run his hands through it, but daren’t.
No. Julian didn’t know what he had been expecting. But it definitely wasn’t this.
He certainly hadn’t expected to be this wrongfooted by a bloody kiss. And a kiss from the Captain of all people. In fact, if he anyone had asked him before today he’d have probably told them the Captain was a bloody great blushing virgin. Julian would never have imagined the Captain could hold so much power over him.
Julian Fawcett had kissed many people in his lifetime. Many, many people.
But whilst Julian Fawcett may have kissed many people in his life, the Captain was his first in death. And he bloody well wanted more.
Julian walked the Captain backwards. Slowly, slowly, until his back collided with the wall. The impact startled the man enough to part his mouth from Julian’s.
Julian waited.
He waited for the man to bolt. Or to kiss him again. Or even for him to open his bloody eyes.
Julian brought his arms up to rest on the wall beside the man’s head, dropping his forehead to rest against the other man’s. He felt a strange pang in his chest as the man hesitantly brought his hands down to rest on his waist. They sat there featherlight, like the man was scared any movement of his would startle Julian out of whatever they were doing. Or maybe like he was scared it wouldn’t.
When the Captain finally opened his eyes, he looked at Julian with an intensity he wasn’t sure he’d ever witnessed before. The man’s eyes glowed and glistened like he’d just been witness to the second bloody coming. The Captain looked conflicted, like he wanted to laugh, and scream, and break down and cry. Like he wanted to look anywhere else, but at Julian. Like he wanted to look nowhere else ever again, if that meant it wasn’t Julian. Like he wanted to convince himself that they hadn’t just done that. Like he wanted to convince himself that every bloody feeling he’d suppressed so hard during his life, and during his death, hadn’t been for nothing. Like he needed to convince himself that all of this wasn’t because it was Julian.
Julian held his gaze. For once in his life Julian didn’t work to convince, or to deceive, or to control the situation. He waited, patiently, for the Captain to see how much this meant for him too.
He grazed the knuckles of one hand to along the underside of the Captain’s jaw. He felt the man’s jaw clench and unclench as he appeared to swallow every feeling he wanted so desperately to utter.
He waited…
Julian decided that he would wait forever, if that was how long it took him. And why not? They bloody well had nothing better to do.
The Captain had roused something within Julian that hadn’t been seen by another person for nigh on thirty years. Something that he had been fairly sure he would never feel again. Something that he had only felt once before…
And Julian would spend the rest of his death waiting, if he could spend it like this.