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One particularly bitter day in November had the men of C Company huddled around candles in their respective rooms of the dugout. Some had even joined Mason in the kitchen, and were warming their hands over a bowl of vegetables that was boiling on the gas burner.
It was rather late, and Stanhope had retired to his room. As per usual, he held a half-empty glass of whiskey in his right hand. Ever since Raleigh had arrived at the dugout a few months prior, he had been trying to cut down on his alcohol consumption. Alcohol made him aggressive, and he hated the look in Raleigh’s eyes when Stanhope was too harsh on him. He was only a boy, he was heartbroken that Raleigh even became a soldier. His fate was sealed the day he joined, and he didn’t deserve to have a terrible time in the dugout as well as on the front lines. So, for Raleigh’s sake if not for his own, he wanted to quit.
It wasn’t going well.
This time he had the excuse that drinking was helping him to warm up, however only on the inside.
Originally, Stanhope had been blinded by rage at the fact that Raleigh had joined his company. He had sworn that he would not let Raleigh get hurt. It would be easier, he supposed, if Raleigh was within his line of sight at all times. It was just too easy for Stanhope to become protective over the boy as they started spending more time together.
But now, his eyes were fixed on the blank sheet of paper on the table in front of him. Earlier, he had been contemplating writing to Raleigh’s sister but was still procrastinating. They were only friends, after all. They were still on good terms, but they had been much closer in the past.
He eventually decided that Margaret had received enough letters from the younger soldier.
“Stanhope?” A quiet, almost hesitant voice sounded from just outside his door. He perked up to see Jimmy at his door. He always looked so effortlessly happy to see Stanhope; it made his heart clench.
“Good evening,” he muttered, noticing not for the first time that he sounded considerably less enthusiastic than Raleigh always did. His intention wasn’t to push the younger man away and immediately wished he had made himself sound approachable. Raleigh took a step closer. It was then that Stanhope realised he was trembling.
“Cold night, isn’t it?” Stanhope commented. Raleigh nodded as he leaned against the door frame a little.
“It’s a tad warmer in here than where I sleep.” He was practically begging for an invitation. Stanhope obliged, gesturing towards his bed. The lieutenant’s smile lit up his face and his eyes sparkled. He gratefully took a seat as his eyes took in the room. He had never seen it properly before. It didn’t appear too different from any of the others, but Stanhope had always tended towards minimalism. About a minute later, he stood up and left the room. Stanhope couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He had hoped that he would stay with him for a while.
Relief flooded his mind as Raleigh returned not long later with a blanket. He took his place again on Stanhope’s bed, and held it out for the captain to take. The continuation of Raleigh’s shaky breathing prompted him to wrap the blanket around his shoulders. Raleigh’s slender hand slipped into Stanhope’s large calloused one with practised precision. It felt so natural, so.. right. He let out a sigh as he leaned into the Captain’s side. Raleigh’s lack of hesitation made his cheeks flush. He had always been so open with his affections.
Ever since they were in school together, he found himself enthralled with the boy’s lingering touches. He seemed so naïve and innocent, yet he made Stanhope feel so much. For so long, he seemed completely oblivious to the effect that he had on the older boy. He couldn’t tell if the same was true for this moment, or he was just teasing him. He wouldn’t have minded either way.
The weight on his shoulder grew heavier.
At that moment, the door to his room creaked open. The face of an older man with kind eyes peered around the side with a smile. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, relieved that it was only Osborne, his second in command. He was the first (and only) person that Stanhope had told about his feelings. Any feelings for that matter, but specifically those that he felt for other men. Osborne had first heard him reveal Raleigh’s given name months before the boy had even been old enough to join the army.
Exhaustion was finally taking its toll, and Stanhope moved the boy so that they could both lie down. It would be warmer that way. When he stirred, he ran a hand through Raleigh’s hair, soothing him. Being the angel that he was, Osborne grabbed the blanket that had fallen halfway to the floor and replaced it over the two of them. “I’m glad you’re awake. Everyone’s fine, Trotter’s on duty at the moment. I was just wondering if you wanted another whiskey.”
He paused and then quickly added.
“-or one for you, Raleigh?”
He shook his head, and Raleigh’s answer was obvious. Stanhope tightened the arm around his waist.
“Thank you, Uncle.”
The 2IC nodded in appreciation and left the room, being careful not to open the door wide enough that any of the men in the dugout could see inside. They couldn’t find out, no matter what happened. Yes, the red blush that coloured their cheeks could have been caused by the winter weather. The embrace that Raleigh was protected within could have been just a means of warming up. Osborne was sure, however, that none of the men would believe that. The likelihood was that they wouldn’t be as supportive as he had been. Being in a homosexual relationship was hard enough, even more so when surrounded by strong, moral-led soldiers with guns. It was especially dangerous outside the trenches. It was almost too easy for one of them to disappear, become injured, or be killed.
For now, at least, both of them were safe. It was near impossible to be truly happy in the war, but as long as they had each other, they would be. Osborne swore, as long as he was alive, he would keep them safe. Both of them. With one last look behind him, he closed the door to Stanhope’s room and returned to his own.