sunburned | (no subject)

"Because I want you, Will," he snaps, standing his ground, angry colour burning in his cheeks. "Because I will want you. And that is likely more than you can bear."

He shrugged and then he looked away. "And why would you?"

Laurence was silent throughout Granby's outburst, waiting until it was entirely over before speaking. "I think I may be able to bear more than you believe, John. I would not renounce our friendship over such a thing. Would you?"

"I wouldn't renounce our friendship over anything," he says, quietening somewhat. "I would not lose you for the world, but..."

He swallows and then steps in, crowding into Laurence's space a little. "You must see what this is, Will. You cannot possibly be that...naive."

"Please remember that I was a Naval man for most of my life, Granby," Laurence said, standing his ground as the other man moved towards him, every fibre of his being the picture of an unyielding gentleman officer. "Naivety of any kind does not last long in a midshipman's berth."

"But I've said it, Will," he says, quietly, and he's never been as good a gentleman as Laurence. He's never been as unyielding. "Said I want you. It was easier before, before I'd had..." He blinks. "This is not Midshipmen."

"I am well aware of that." Only half-conscious that he was doing so, Laurence had been steadily retreating behind the facade he usually pulled on when caught off his guard. He was proper, he was polite, he was stiff as a poker, and it came so naturally that he barely noticed. For Granby and his confession had caught him very off guard. "I was merely using it as an example."

For his part, Granby's noticed the shift in Laurence's demeanour; he's known him for long enough that it's painfully aware of the change in him. HE tries not to let it hurt too badly. Even if it does feel like being shut out.

Still, Granby is military, too. He can snap to attention.

"Forgive me," he says, stiffly. "It was foolish of me to think."

Perhaps it was because of Granby's period of prolonged insolence when they had first met, but, despite the fact that he barely registered a change in his own demeanor, the shift in the other man's was noted immediately as something still not entirely genuine, something almost mocking. "I never meant to imply that you could not think as you wish."

"God, Laurence," says Granby breaking almost immediately, anger flashing across his face. "I do not know how to put this more simply. There is a line and we have crossed it and I cannot stop thinking about crossing it. For the love of God, you're maddening."

It was not the first time that Laurence had been called maddening. It was not even the first time that Granby had pronounced him so. But it was definitely the first time that it had occurred under such singular circumstances. If nothing else, it left him quite lost for proper replies.

"Oh, for the love of..."

It's a toss-up, right then, between slapping some sense into him or kissing him. Granby's infuriated, his face flushed, pulse throbbing in his temple and, still, even then, he can't stop wanting.

He crushes his mouth against Laurence's.
At worst, he'll end up with a black eye and a definite direction, rather than this spinning in the wind.

Laurence, once more, did not know what he was to do, and he was getting tired of it. He was tired of the feeling of being adrift, of being helpless. He was a Captain. When he did not know where he was going then it was simply time to plot a new course. Or so he kept telling himself.

He caught at Granby's arm, not pushing him back and not pulling him closer. For the moment he simply held on.

It's not a long kiss but it also does not result in a black eye and, for that much at last, Granby sees reason to be grateful. He's aware of Laurence's grip on his arm, of how close they are, of, perversely, the smell of Laurence's skin.

He swallows.

"This is what I mean, Will," he says softly. "If there's a line, then I've lost it."

"Then I suppose we may have to reestablish it," Laurence said, his breath coming in strange after the kiss. Perhaps it was an advantage of it not being so late at night. Perhaps it was because they were in an environment far less perilous than the Inca court. Whatever the reason, he found himself less unsure of himself than he had been the last time.

He can't help it - he winces. He catches Laurence's meaning well enough, he supposes and, frowning, he nods, clearing his throat.

"I suppose you're right."

"You are still my dearest friend, John," Laurence said, squeezing his arms reassuringly, trying to smile, to do something to counteract Granby's wince and frown. He didn't think he had misspoken, but perhaps the other man did. "Whatever this thing is it does change that. It will just take some time to settle properly."

"Aye, and for that I'm grateful." He finds himself fairly solidly held by Laurence's grip on his arms. "And what do you imagine 'this thing' is, Laurence? Because, honestly, I'm finding you bloody impenetrable - which has been charming in the past, honestly, but, for now, it's causing the most dreadful ache in my head."

"It is--" Laurence paused momentarily, trying to put his thoughts and words in some semblance of order. "I am still not entirely certain what it is, or what it may be, but I am willing to wait and see. Does that help?"

It feels a little bit like being drunk. He hiccups a sound that sounds something like a laugh. He shakes his head.

"No, Will. That doesn't help."

"Then I am sorry, John." Laurence sighed, loosening his grip on Granby's arms, but not dropping them entirely. "This is something beyond my experience. I need time, as I said."

It hasn't escaped his notice that Laurence hasn't let him go, yet. And that phrase, that something beyond my experience. It didn't sound like 'no' to Granby's ears. Not emphatically, anyway.

"So," he says, swallowing, his hand coming up to trace the tips of his fingers along Laurence's jaw. "Slowly is best?"

Laurence nodded, drawing in an unsteady breath at the touch of Granby's fingers against his face. What he had said about experience had been entirely true. "It is."

"To be absolutely clear, Will," he says, voice sticking in his throat a little, fingers curling against the side of Laurence's neck, thumb stroking against his jaw. "Do you mean to say that you want..."

He lost his words entirely and closed his eyes, swallowing hard as he drew in a breath. "That you want this?"

And he doesn't lean in anymore, doesn't kiss, but, oh, he wants to.

"I-- It is beyond my experience," Laurence answered. His eyes closed as Granby's touch continued and traveled downwards to his neck, bringing to mind memories of the last time the other man had touched him so. He did not know if the outcome would be the same on this occasion and did not know if he wished it to or not.

Granby keeps his eyes open, focusing on the shift in Laurence's expression. Of course, Laurence is so buttoned up and neat that it's difficult to get at any skin other than what he's already touching.

He shakes his head.

"No," he says, quietly. "I can't...I can't leave myself open to doubt here, Will. Our lives have been very different. I need...I need you to say it. If you would."