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Andrew watched the lit match touch the corner of the paper he was holding a few inches above the large ashtray. As the flame slowly rose up the paper turning the white to a dark cream before it started to slowly crumble to brown confetti ash, Andrew blew out the match and carefully placed the burning paper in the ashtray to join the charred remains of two other pages.
A foot clad in a navy blue sock nudged under his arm and wiggled, "Drew, would you stop using all my matches and stationary? They are darned hard to find, you know."
Andrew turned slightly in the walnut balloon back chair and smiled at the man draped sideways in the yellow chintz wingback chair. Even after almost six months, the American accent and soft curses still startled a smile out of Andrew.
He raised the foot still trying to tickle his underarm and kissed the ankle softly, "Don't worry, love, I will replace your matches and paper, even though they are bloody hard to come by. Although, maybe if you can't find matches it will cut down on your smoking."
The American rolled his eyes, even as he flashed one of the gorgeous, cheeky smiles that had been the first thing to turn Andrew's head the day they met in the hangar at Debden, "What kinda Yank would I be without my ciggies? What are you working on that is causing the need to potentially burn us out of house and billet, anyhow?"
"A letter," Andrew sighed as he turned back to the desk. "I am trying to figure out a good way of telling Sam about us."
"Drew, you can't tell her that," the sound of the book he had been reading hitting the floor and chair scraping violently against the wood floor accompanied his sudden shift from his lounged position to his full height.
Once again Andrew turned away from the desk. Some people found Flight Engineer Leroy Robert Riggs' height intimidating, especially when he stood arms akimbo and feet widely planted as he was now, but Andrew knew the blonde far intimately. He was mostly a cuddly toy in a six foot chiselled frame. He was also sensitive and ashamed of his feelings and himself and terrified that anyone would discover his true nature. The first time that they had made love, Leroy had cried and apologised and tried to run away, but Andrew hadn’t let that happen. Slowly, Leroy had begun to be more relaxed and started accepting that Andrew was as wildly and passionately attracted to him as Leroy was to Andrew. Pulling a few strings and getting a small cottage that they could billet in together had finally released the last of tension in Leroy and they were comfortably intimate with each other in the cottage. But anything outside the cottage could make the large man shake with fear.
Knowing that physical contact grounded Leroy, Andrew reached out and crooked both index fingers through the front belt loops of the dungarees that Leroy had shipped from home specifically for lounging around in their home. A quick tug had Leroy folding around Andrew, allowing him to slide his hands into the back pockets of the denim.
Stretching to lightly kiss Leroy's neck, Andrew sighed, "Don't worry, my love. I am burning these drafts because I am being careful to make sure that nothing I write can be used against either of us, which is hard because I want to tell Sam all about you and how wonderful you are."
Leroy pulled back slightly, "Wouldn't that be a shock to her?"
"No," Andrew used the small gap now between them to push Leroy back enough that he could stand. Crowding Leroy back, Andrew guided him back to the armchair, but this time he pushed Leroy into a seated position while Andrew draped himself sideways across the chair and, most importantly, across Leroy's lap. Immediately, Leroy wrapped both arms around Andrew and leaned in to start kissing him, but Andrew stopped him, "I need to tell you about Sam. She is an absolute angel. She knows that my… preferences don't always align with her's… or maybe that they do sometimes align with her's, since we did seem to admire some of the same men. She knew Rex and she recognized something between us because she has a cousin like us. When Rex died, she… she let me mourn my lover, while my father let me mourn my friend. Sam understood and because of that we fell into a promise, but I know that as much as I love and care for her I can never fully be hers and I need her to be happy. So, I need to write to her, tell her that I have missed her, but that I have someone else. I just want to do it in such a way that she can read the truth between the lines, while no one else can in case the censors decide to review the letter. Do you understand?"
Leroy's hand started slowly running his hand from Andrew's hip to his as he stared into the fireplace across the cottage's cosy parlour. Andrew knew that Leroy was taking a moment to process this information. A lot of people looked at Leroy with his rural, farming background and strong, hard work hewed body as being somewhat dimwitted, but had a sharp analytical mind that could solve puzzles, especially machinal ones, better than anyone Andrew had ever met, which included his father. He also knew that the slightly older man needed a few minutes to process things, so he kissed Leroy's temple and leaned his head against the spot he had kissed.
A few quiet moments passed when finally Leroy spoke, "Growing up in the farm fields of Pennsylvania, there weren't anyone else like me. Or at least that is what the pastor said that there are no homosexuals in America. Maybe there are and there are just no angels in America."
"I am sure there are a lot of men and women like us in America," Andrew smiled softly as he turned Leroy's head towards him. "You just weren't as fortunate as I have been to find two amazing Kings to call my own and to have the support of people like my parents and Sam."
Leroy smiled, "I'd like to meet your dad and Sam someday."
"That can definitely be arranged, but right now I'd like to meet you in your bedroom," Andrew kissed Leroy's nose.
Leroy laughed as Andrew climbed off his lap, "Pretty sure it is our bedroom now, even if your clothes have to live in the second bedroom for appearance sake."
"Oh, I don't know, there are many a night that I end up sleeping in the other room," Andrew took both of Leroy's hands and gave him a cheeky grin, "because of your snoring!"
"At least I don't steal the blankets like you," Leroy protested as he followed Andrew's lead towards the stairs.
Andrew shook his head, "I have to defend myself against your cold feet."
"Cold feet!" Leroy used their joined hands to pull Andrew towards him and into a fireman's carry, "I'll give you cold feet right up the ass!"
The startled yelp that Andrew let out when he was lifted morphed into a laugh as he snaked the hand hanging down Leroy's back between his white vest (or undershirt as Leroy called it) and waistband of his dungarees, "I think I would prefer something hot and hard up my arse."
The hand holding Andrew's leg adjusted closer to his arse as Leroy moaned, "I think that can be arranged."
"Then take me to bed already," Andrew squeezed the flesh under his hand as he allowed his fingers to dip into Leroy's crack.
Leroy took the stairs two at a time as Andrew bounced on his shoulders, both laughing the whole way.
Several hours later as Leroy laid naked and sated, snoring upstairs, Andrew sat wrapped in his dressing gown at the desk overlooking the back garden. As he had been falling asleep in Leroy's arms, the words he wanted to write to Sam had finally flowed into his head. He'd been honest with Leroy that Sam would not care if the person that he met was male or female, however he wasn't exactly honest that Sam wouldn't be upset. Perhaps they would never have had a mad, passionate marriage but they could have managed happy and most importantly his father and Sam would have been ecstatic to be family.
With a sigh, Andrew picked up the letter and reread it for the third or fourth time.
Dear Sam,
I know it's been a long time since I've written and I'm sorry. I'm sorrier still to have to write this.
I can't say I've had a good time at Debden. Lots of reasons and of course I was missing you. I never seem to get any leave.
Sam, there's no easy way to write this, but I've met someone else. I can't explain it and I feel wretched, but I was going mad on my own, without you, I mean, and it just sort of happened. The last thing I want to do is to hurt you, but I thought I should make a clean breast of it. And, well, there you are.
God knows when I'll be home. And you probably wouldn't want to see me anyway. But at the very least you can begin again. Good luck, Sam.
Don't think too badly of me.
Andrew.
"No matter what it says, she's going to be at least a little hurt, Drew. This is still the kindest way, since you can’t get back to Hastings," Leroy's voice was gentle from the parlour doorway. "The important thing is that she knows and that you are being as honest as you can be in a letter."
Andrew nodded as he folded the letter into the envelope. Once it was sealed, he stood up and crossed the room. Taking Leroy's face in his hands, Andrew looked into the deep blue eyes, "I need you to know something. I love you."
"I know that and I love you, too," Leroy smiled into the kiss.