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Snow fell less furiously than it had the previous few days, though it left little impact on the minds of already weary soldiers. The night was cold, and little progress had been made in the arduous mission to claim a victory in the young war. The general, George Washington, stood atop the fort gazing over the town under British command.
His men lost the battle of Bunker Hill, and many lost their lives. Many more were losing now; it was cold, with little rations to go around, yet plenty of disease. They had to make do with what they had, and arguably their best asset was a physician by the nickname Dr. Smiley.
He was an odd man. He begged to join following the battle at Bunker Hill, drawn to the violence of the battlefield and unfazed by human suffering. He lacked most men’s sensibilities, though he at least had some compassion. He had made a fine doctor and, in true fashion, would not ignore the general’s turmoil for any reason.
The doctor’s clothes were much nicer than the other men’s; he made a doctor’s salary after all. His shoes didn’t even have holes in them, he had two complete pairs of socks, and yet he always found himself freezing at night. Warm clothes don’t help when your body can’t find the energy to stay warm. One may think taking a walk in this weather would exacerbate the issue, though he thought otherwise.
Seeing George always brought a certain warmth to him. Not the kind that his heavy coat could trap for safekeeping, nor that which staved off hypothermia, but the kind that would have him leave his home in Boston to brave the hell and cold water just to stand perfectly comfortable at George’s side in the thick of that misery.
George certainly noticed Smiley’s approach but said nothing. There was probably nothing to say, yet Smiley always found words.
“How are you keeping, with the cold?”
George looked at him, his typical smile seemed… soft… in a way. George felt a bit of tension dissolve at the sight, “No one's keeping well in this weather.”
“No… certainly not… I’d know.” Smiley sounded distressed; however, his body language said otherwise. George was beginning to think he couldn’t take anything seriously. A negative, one may think, though his relaxed attitude was definitely a boost for morale. George always felt better just seeing Smiley’s face or hearing his voice. Even the worst of news sounded like music to his ears when it came from Smiley’s soft lips.
George realized then he’d drifted off, staring at his subordinate, “Y-yes, you- certainly have an eye for others' well-being.”
Smiley raised an eyebrow, “I am a doctor. I’d be useless if I couldn’t seek out misery… In fact, I dare say I’ve found some.”
George gave him a puzzled look, and Smiley shook his head, gently gripping his hand as he stepped closer.
“You aren’t doing well. You’re quite stressed.” Gloved hands pressed together, skin burning for the first time with something other than the cold.
“In what world should I not be?” George questioned, trying not to lean into Smiley’s touch.
Smiley, however, was not content with this; he pulled George closer, their chests nearly pressing together, as Smiley lifted his hand to George’s face.
“Georgy… you will accomplish nothing by worrying, your misery serves only to hold you down.”
George swallowed hard, his stinging cheeks certainly redder from Smiley’s touch, “What else is there to focus on?” He said as if it wasn’t staring him down.
Smiley understood the message; for once, he said nothing, merely pulling George’s chin towards him as their lips locked together. Both were cold, yet the warmth of each other’s mouths soon found them as their tongues lapped at newfound heat. Chilled hands held each other gently, almost fearful at the idea of leaving the other’s body, even to roam.
Smiley pulled away first. A twinge of sadness had George fully pressed into him now, “Feeling better now?” Smiley nearly sang.
George blushed heavily, a normally composed man brought to ruin in only moments. Perhaps Smiley was just as good at breaking men as fixing them.
Smiley’s hands slid over George’s chest, now warm from the excitement of the doctor’s ‘cures.’
“You seem better, but if you have any issues, please come see me. My door is always open, well… I don’t mind company~” Smiley’s lips curled into another devious smile as he licked the taste of his general from them.
George simply nodded and watched Smiley return to his tent, knowing he’d follow soon after for another, stronger treatment.