Archibald leaned into his palm, eyes closing. “You divorced your wife,” he said quietly.
“I don’t want to talk about her,” said Frank, taking Archibald’s hat and putting it aside, then removing his jacket. “Sit. Please?”
Archibald nodded and took off his coat, sitting next to Frank on the narrow bed. It was surreal to have Archibald here, in his own space, in London.
A small smile quirked Archibald’s lips as he looked him over. “You’re wearing the watch.”
“Of course I am,” said Frank. He reached out and took Archibald’s hands, gently kissing his knuckles, echoing the touch in the greenhouse.
Archibald sighed and gently pulled one hand away to take out his pocket watch. “I’ve carried you with me, too,” he said, opening the pocket watch to reveal the picture of the two of them.
Smiling, Frank took it from him, cradling the watch like it was a precious thing. Archibald put his hand over Frank’s and gently closed the watch. Frank looked up and met his gaze. “I am here,” said Archibald softly. “I love you. I never want to leave your side again.”
Frank felt tears at the corner of his eyes. “I love you, too,” he whispered.
Archibald leaned in and kissed him gently. “Come stay with me?” he asked.
“Really?” It seemed too good to be true, as if he’d wake in the morning to find this had all been an amazing dream.
“Truly,” said Archibald, squeezing his hands. “I’ve had time to think about it. My home has plenty of room, and it’s not so strange to take in friends that are down on their luck, especially since we’ve served together. You and I will know the truth.”
Frank leaned in and kissed him, gathering Archibald in his arms. “Yes. I... I am so tired, Archibald. And I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too, Frank. Why don’t we sleep in your bed, and tomorrow, I’ll help you move.”
“Yes, sir,” said Frank fondly, leaning down to pull off Archibald’s shoes, then his own. “This bed is a little softer than the bunker, but not much bigger.”
“We’ll make do. After all, we have each other.”
They shifted around until they were lying face to face. Frank cupped Archibald’s face and kissed him again. Archibald’s hand landed on his side and he frowned, pushing up Frank’s shirt to touch the scar.
“It doesn't hurt anymore,” said Frank. “You saved my life.”
Archibald moved his hand to Frank's shoulder. “I killed the soldier who shot you. I was angry and scared at the thought of losing you.”
Frank kissed him again. “You were protecting me. Just as I was protecting you. We’re both alive. We’re here.”
“And I never want to leave you again,” said Archibald, running fingers through Frank’s hair.
They sipped kisses from one another’s lips, lapsing into silence under the privilege of touch. Frank let himself remember what Archibald felt like under his hands, the warmth of his body, the softness of his touch. Eventually, they fell into a dreamless sleep, safe in each other’s arms.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Archibald woke early, before the sun had fully risen into the winter sky. He smiled softly as he looked at Frank, still dozing in his arms. This was what he wanted for the rest of their lives. He leaned in and kissed the top of Frank’s head.
Frank stirred and smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “I’m off work today, you?”
“I am,” said Archibald.
“Then let’s get my things and go to yours,” said Frank, not moving an inch.
Archibald chuckled and kissed him again, letting one hand move to Frank’s hip. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” said Frank softly, shifting them so Archibald was underneath him. “As much as I want to make love to you right now, I can’t guarantee how thick these walls are.”
Archibald kissed him again. “We have a lifetime ahead of us. But I promise my home is safe. And my bed is bigger.”
“Good.” Frank moved out of bed and started packing his things. Archibald watched him a moment, then got up and started helping him, feeling lighter than he had in ages.
Frank didn’t own much, and it didn’t take too long. He handed Archibald a bag. “Go on down the back stairs and get us a cab. I’ll go talk to the landlady and get help with the rest of it.”
“All right,” said Archibald, stealing a kiss. He carried the bag down the stairs and caught a cab near the front of the boarding house, waiting anxiously until Frank reappeared with a younger man carrying his trunk.
Once the luggage was settled and Frank was in the cab, Archibald gave his address to the driver and sat back, smiling at him.
“I’m glad you’re alive,” said Frank quietly. “I was never totally certain.”
“Basil would have let you know. He gave me your address when I left France. But, you were still married….”
Frank covered his hand with his own. “I understand. We have time to make up.”
“We do.”
They approached the house at last, and Archibald paid the driver as Murphy came out, not quite hiding a smile as he looked at Frank.
“Murphy, this is Mister Martin. He’s going to be staying with us. Would you get him installed in the room next to mine and let Mrs. White know?”
“Of course, sir,” said Murphy, turning and calling for some of the other servants.
“Frank, this is Murphy, my head man,” said Archibald.
Martin offered his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Murphy looked surprised and pleased as he shook. “And you, sir. Mister Blythe has spoken highly of you.”
“We’ll take a turn around the garden while you take care of that,” said Archibald, leading Frank around the side of the house.
“You really do have an estate,” said Frank.
“I do. And discrete servants. A far cry from the bunker, I’m afraid.”
“Long as you don’t mind a bloke like me maybe dirtying up the carpets.”
Archibald leaned in and kissed him. “I want nothing more.”
Frank grinned into the kiss and squeezed Archibald’s hips.
After a brief tour of the gardens and house, Archibald led Frank upstairs and into his bedroom.
“It’s beautiful,” said Frank, honestly. “And it feels like a dream.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy,” said Archibald, going to the small desk in one corner of his room and unlocking the drawer. He looked down at the stack of letters, then back at Frank. Making up his mind, he gathered them and carried them to where he was standing. “I wrote you,” he said. “I didn’t know if I’d see you again, but talking to you, even via ink and paper... it eased my mind.”
Frank looked down at the pages and reverently took them from Archibald, tears in his eyes. “I tried to write you,” he said quietly. “But always ended up destroying them. I couldn’t while I was trying to reconcile with Julia.”
“I understand,” said Archibald. “I didn’t dare reach out to you while you were still with her.”
Frank shook his head. “No point in talking about what-ifs. I’ll go put this in my room.”
“First door to the left when you leave mine,” said Archibald.
Frank leaned up to kiss him. “I’ll be right back.”
Murphy came in as Frank went out, bearing breakfast. “Am I correct in assuming you didn’t eat, yet?”
“You would be. Thank you.”
“It’s good to see you happy,” said Murphy.
“I don’t think I’ve ever really felt like this,” said Archibald.
“I’m sure you’ll get used to it, sir. I’ll see that you’re not disturbed.”
“Thank you.”
Murphy left and Frank returned a moment later, clutching a piece of paper. “I only managed to write you one letter after I left her.”
“I will read it later,” said Archibald, taking it from him. “Come and eat something.”
Frank sat down across fr
om him. In some ways, it reminded Archibald of the bunker, sitting across from Frank, feet touching under the table. Only there was no artillery here and neither of them were in uniform. It felt like a preview of a life to come, as well as a reminder of the past. They belonged together, already comfortable as a pair of worn shoes. They made small talk just as they had before, the time apart melting away.
Looking Archibald in the eyes, Frank pushed his plate aside as he finished and covered Archibald's hand. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too,” said Archibald. “And I must say, I’m looking forward to our life together.”
“Me too,” said Frank, leaning in to kiss him. Archibald kissed him back, knowing that truly, they were home.
About the Author
Merinda Brayfield is a writer by day, I.T. wizard by night. She’s written an insane amount of fanfiction and has been published in a few anthologies, including the forthcoming The Queer Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Merinda is a semi-professional extrovert who spends her time immersed in Twitter, fangirling about Doctor Who, and spending time with her husband and their dog. You can find her at www.merindabrayfield.com
About Carnation Books
Carnation Books is a fandom-powered publisher of the best in inclusive fiction. Founded in 2016, Carnation Books is at the forefront of new author discovery. Visit carnationbooks.com to learn more, and to sign up for our story-filled newsletter!
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