The Fitzwarren Inheritance

by Various Authors

  “You shouldn’t have even tried to disarm under fire.” The other voice resonated with accusation, and he wanted to say he’d had no choice.

  “We had civilians there,” he responded quickly in his dreams. “We needed a clear path.”

  The other voice twisted in a chuckle, derisory, mocking. “You were under fire. You know better. You knew your men had been on duty for seventy-two hours. They needed rest.”

  “I was following orders,” he screamed back, but the other, the presence of the other, was suffocating.

  “You’ll never stand for your friend. You are a scarred, ugly cripple, useless, the man who couldn’t save them.”

  His conscience never let him rest.

  He rolled onto his back and sat upright, ripped from sleep by his fear and his anger, and for a long while, he concentrated on simply breathing through the emotions.

  Chapter Eight

  The day after, Sean showed up at his front door. Armed with fish and chips from the visiting chip van and a six pack of beer, he waited hopefully as Daniel just stared at him.

  “Thought you could use some food,” Sean offered helpfully.

  “Don’t you have patients?”

  “Nope.” Sean sounded way too cheerful. “Not tonight.” He inclined his head. “I’m on call for emergencies.”

  “So no beer for you then.” Daniel let him stand there stewing, getting an almost perverse pleasure in watching Sean squirm. “And I can’t drink on my meds,” Daniel pointed out helpfully.

  “One won’t hurt.” Sean looked around him as if someone might have heard him slip from professionalism. Daniel stood to one side.

  “You’d best come in then, Doc.”

  The fish was steamed inside the batter to perfection, the chips chunky and hot, and the vinegar tart on his tongue. He heard the bell from the van every week, but he could never be bothered to stumble out and buy himself dinner, instead relying on cans and boxes in his own kitchen. That was something that would have to be remedied this time next week now he had a taste of them. He would make himself walk to the van.

  They talked for a long time, about everything and nothing. By unconscious decision, they avoided talk of medical matters pertaining to Daniel, and that worked well.

  “So you kind of implied you were…” Sean hesitated. “You said something about being a single, gay guy.” Daniel pulled his upper lip between his teeth and nodded a quick yes. “That must have been hard, being in the Army and all. It was hard enough for me at medical college, and we all know students try anything.” There was no earth shattering Are-you-gay, yes-I-am, let’s-shag conversation, but the whole gay thing was out there, and maybe Daniel could see something in Sean he hadn’t seen before. Understanding.

  “It wasn’t hard as such. I just kept my army life and my sex life separate.”

  “All the time you were in Afghanistan?”

  “Mostly.”

  “I have to tell you that I’m really attracted to you,” Sean began seriously, pouting when Daniel snorted out his amusement.

  “I can tell you went to private school, ‘I have to tell you—’” he mimicked.

  “Shut up,” Sean grumped, waving a hand to silence Daniel, a hand that Daniel caught with his still-nearly-functioning reflexes.

  “Well,” he began, teasing in his tone, “I have to tell you that I’m attracted to you too.”

  “Oh.” Sean looked at him with wide eyes. “That was easy,” he finally said.

  “Talking about it is easy. Wait ‘til you get past the talking and experience my inferior body image issues.” Daniel was joking, but he knew for a fact that the thread of fear he was trying to hide was obvious. Sean leaned forward, his hand cupping the right side of Daniel’s face, his other hovering over the scars. He didn’t touch them, but he leaned in and kissed Daniel tenderly, a mere touch of lips and then he drew back, his hand finally resting on Daniel’s ruined skin.

  “If I got to touch your body, I would feel like the luckiest man in Steeple Westford.”

  “What? Even luckier than Mrs Jones who won twenty-three pounds on the lottery and spent an hour on Wednesday telling me how she was going to treat herself?” Daniel wanted to diffuse the tension, had to make a joke of the fact he was hard in his jersey boxers and wanting anything Sean was offering.

  Sean chuckled. “Even more than that.”

  * * * *

  It wasn’t every night, but over the next week, Sean would arrive on his doorstep, he guessed post-surgery hours, always bringing some kind of food.

  “Do I look like I need fattening up?” Daniel had joked on the third day, after looking at the curry from the Taj Mahal in the next town over. Sean had replied in all seriousness that he needed Daniel to keep his energy levels high for when they finally went past the kissing stage. That served to fluster Daniel way past normal, and it was that he remembered when Sean arrived at his door the next night. He didn’t have food. All he had was a grieving expression on his face and an air of palpable sorrow around him. Daniel ushered him in, guiding him to sit, and after ascertaining he wasn’t on duty tonight, handed him a beer. He didn’t ask stupid questions, just popped the tab on his own beer and waited. He thought he knew what this was about. Will had only just left, carrying news of deterioration in Charlie and Carol’s premature baby, a sentence of only a few days to survive. They couldn’t tell what was wrong with the little mite, but they knew he was losing the battle to live. Sean was so close to Phil, close to the whole family, and had been asked to be godfather to little Edward. They didn’t actually talk about the baby, but Daniel moved back in the corner of the sofa and encouraged Sean to lean close to him. He could be what Sean needed tonight. A friend.

  They fell asleep on the sofa, Sean clutching his mobile phone as if he expected it to ring at any moment. When Daniel woke, he checked Sean’s mobile and saw it was a little after two in the morning, and Sean was shifting in his arms.

  “I need to go.” Sean protested at Daniel’s hold and gestured pointedly up at his mobile. “It’s two in the morning” He twisted in Daniel’s arms, and Daniel released the hold immediately. He wasn’t going to force Sean into staying still if he needed to move.

  “I do all my best work at two in the morning,” Daniel said softly. “In the dark you can hide anything, scars, grief…” Sean gazed at him with confusion on his face, and then compelled by something he couldn’t identify, Daniel moved in for a gentle kiss, touching his tongue to the seam of Sean’s lips and pressing them apart. Daniel finally had Sean kissing him again, with the promise of more.

  Daniel was feeling each inch of available skin as they kissed, pulling back and watching Sean’s eyes in the dim half light as he continued the touch. He stopped the travel of his fingers and laced them with Sean’s, his thumb tracing patterns on the fleshy part of Sean’s palm.

  “Are you okay?” His voice was little more than a husky growl, low and insistent. The last thing he wanted was to take advantage if Sean had things on his mind.

  “No talking, just kissing,” Sean murmured, leaning into Daniel’s gentle touch, the heat between them building and Sean smiling a soft and somewhat shy smile.

  “Kissing is good.” Daniel smirked as Sean settled himself into the kiss and winced as he used a single finger to trace Daniel’s lips, the shape of his face, his cheekbones. He curved the path across the scarring, and Daniel reached up to cover Sean’s hand with his own.

  “Gorgeous,” Sean breathed as Daniel tilted his head into the joined touch, pushing against it gently. Very slowly Daniel slid his hands into the soft silk of Sean’s blond hair and encouraged him closer to lay a path of kisses from chin to his cheekbone, then to his lips, applying very little pressure, the slightest breath of a kiss. When he pulled back, Sean chased for the kiss.

  Daniel shook his head, moving to start a new kiss, a soft slide of tongue on Sean’s lips, asking permission to explore inside and taste the other man. Holding Sean’s face in both hands, he tilted his head and extend
ed the kiss as Sean sparked to life and started to move against him, a squirm of need, an insistent tug on Daniel’s shirt. They broke apart only to pull shirts aside, hands touching and exploring as the kisses became more. Daniel wanted to learn every inch of Sean. There was something about him, some pull, some need that only Sean could satisfy.

  It wasn’t about looking for completion at this stage. It was about learning and nothing more, the attraction and pull so quick that it almost seemed unreal. Daniel wasn’t sure if it was being on the new medication or if it was just Sean, but for the first time in a long time, he was hard and needy. Kissing Sean felt free, like it was the first real choice he’d made for himself since the bomb. He was content to kiss, his hands anchoring at the base of Sean’s spine, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his faded worn jeans and resting without moving.

  Daniel spread his legs and tilted his hips, pulling and shifting Sean so he leaned against him. Sean whimpered as he was forced to inch that little bit farther forward. It was just enough friction to push them to the edge, but not enough to take them over. It was exquisite, perfect, that single moment that Daniel wanted to last forever.

  The kisses turned from insistent and needy to searching and careful. Sean had slid forward and rested comfortably in Daniel’s hold, moving his head to nuzzle warm lips at Daniel’s neck. It felt so right, feeling the flutter of Sean’s pulse against the tips of searching fingers. He kissed a small trail from the pulse to Sean’s ear, little biting kisses with flicks of his clever tongue. This was teasing, just testing this instant connection between them.

  The heat between them, the passion, exploded in a confusion of hands that gripped, teeth that bit and pulled, and mouths that tasted and sucked and marked in a frenzy. Daniel was too far gone to go slow and to take. He pushed past any pain in his knee, rutted and marked Sean in a primal explosion of lust, and Sean answered with ferocity of desire.

  Clothes were pulled and tugged until skin met skin, Sean moving so they could push against each other, hard muscles fighting for dominance. At one point, Sean had control as he weakened Daniel with his hands, reaching down and closing around Daniel’s hard, leaking dick, twisting and pulling. His other hand grasped Daniel’s long hair almost too hard, pulling him away until their lips were apart. A mask of heat blazed across Sean’s face.

  “Gorgeous,” Sean repeated again and again. He murmured against Daniel’s throat, sucking hard, soothing it with his tongue and then biting again until Daniel was sure of its permanence as Sean’s mark.

  Orgasm was building in him, so close. “Slower,” he whimpered, contradicting the breathless plea by arching his head back to give Sean free rein to his throat. “We need to…” He tried to stop, but it was too late. He lost it, hot and hard and heavy over Sean’s firm hold, Sean following not long after, sliding against the curve of Daniel’s hip, falling breathlessly on top of him, his eyes closed, his body limp.

  “I could hold you all night,” Daniel whispered gently. Sean burrowed farther into his hold, dropping his fingers to Daniel’s hard chest and tracing random patterns.

  Daniel dropped his head back, a familiar exhaustion pulling at the edges of his thoughts, his eyes heavy in the warmth of the room, his body languid with pleasure, and bit by bit, his body relaxed. The dampness in his pants he could handle for a short while. He needed just a few minutes rest. Sean was still drawing letters and random shapes on his chest, the skin-to-skin contact warm. Daniel felt the shift as Sean pulled at a blanket on the back of the sofa and settled it over them both.

  And they slept, the blanket a cocoon of warmth and Sean’s body hot against Daniel, the weight of him secure against his chest.

  When the mobile rang as dawn lightened the room, it woke them both with a start, and Sean fumbled to answer, rolling up and off of Daniel and grabbing at jeans as they refused to stay on his hips. He was half smiling when he came off the phone.

  “Seems little Edward is a fighter. He’s responding okay, still very poorly, but at least out of danger. Phil said he’d update us in a few hours.”

  “That’s good news, isn’t it?” Daniel was hoping Sean would say it was.

  “It’s not bad news, which makes it good news.” He rubbed at tired eyes. “If that makes any sense at all.” Daniel pulled him back to hold him tight.

  “Perfect sense.”

  Chapter Nine

  Daniel stood for a long time staring at his reflection in the mirror. The bathroom was where he did all his best thinking. Judging his reflection when he could see the evidence of the scars, everything was more real. He didn’t look tired after last night. In fact, to his eyes, despite the physical stuff and the lack of sleep, he looked very rested. He’d taken his meds like a good little soldier when Sean had crossed his arms across his chest and refused to leave before he saw Daniel swallow them. Resentment shot through Daniel at that thought. He wanted a relationship based on mutual respect and trust, not one where one of them pointedly reminded the other of the frailty of body and mind. Still, the sex had been good, and he wouldn’t mind a repeat of that if it was offered to him.

  Sean wanted to visit the baby in the hospital so he’d left at eight, a smile on his face that the news he received had been good. He hadn’t left without making plans to see Daniel again tonight. It was the first time they had organised Sean coming to the house as opposed to him just turning up with sacrificial offerings of food from local restaurants. It felt different, not casual, but arranged with some great meaning behind it. Interesting.

  The knock on the door came not long after, but despite his concerns about the whole relationship thing, his good mood meant he didn’t have the usual worries about letting the outside world in.

  Will.

  “It’s been a while,” his best friend said carefully. Daniel could play this one of two ways. He could feign surprise that the date of the wedding was now close, which might buy him a few more hours to pack a bag and run, or he could just come out with it and say no.

  “Will…” He’d made the effort to start, thinking of how to word his refusal to stand up as best man to Will, when he felt his entire wall crumble to pieces. Will wasn’t on his own. Sod it, he’d brought the one thing with him that was probably going to cause way more chinks in his armour than Will could ever achieve alone. His bloody fiancée. Di freaking Fitzwarren. Her soft brown hair was loose in her customary straight bob, her pretty face without makeup, and her lips curved up in an innocent smile. Daniel groaned inwardly.

  “Di wanted to talk to you,” Will offered, the palms of his hand upright offering innocence in the whole matter, and Daniel did the only thing he could really do.

  “You’d better come in.”

  Di sat primly on the end of one of the two sofas that had been here since the fifties, great solid dark brown leather with carved wooden feet.

  “Why don’t we have a cup of tea and a quick gossip?” she said gently. “Will can help you in the kitchen.” Daniel opened his mouth to protest. He didn’t need help in the kitchen, but when he caught Will’s gaze and his frantic head gestures, he realised Di was giving the two men time to come up with a suitable defence before she tore it down. Daniel led Will into the kitchen, with all his excuses ready.

  “You don’t want me there,” Daniel whispered heatedly. “People will look, and stare, and Christ, it’s your day, not mine.” He put an awful lot of emphasis on the word “your”, hoping that would win points in this whole discussion.

  “I told her it was your choice, Dan,” Will replied, just as heated. “I told her your stubborn sodding arse wasn’t going to be moved.”

  “I’m doing this for you and for her—”

  “Yeah? I can’t wait to see you run that little nugget of Danielism past her.”

  “You said I didn’t have to—”

  “I want you to.”

  Daniel turned to focus on the kettle and making the tea. He didn’t want to hear the disappointment in his friend’s voice or see it on his face. He jus
t couldn’t do this, couldn’t face the people that pointed and stared and called him a hero. They didn’t know the first thing about what he’d done or the choices he’d had to make. They couldn’t begin to know how it had changed him.

  “You asked me. I said no. It’s simple. If you can’t accept that, then I’m not sure where we can go from here.” None of them took sugar, so he simply stirred milk into the tea, and balancing the mugs on an old 1977 Silver Jubilee tray of his mother’s, he led Will back into the front room. He made a show of placing the mugs within reach of Di and Will, and then with a deliberately staggering limp, he hobbled to the ancient sofa and sat, waiting. Will sat next to the woman he was going to be marrying, grasping her hand and nodding as she looked at him. He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to Daniel.

  “I want to ask you, Daniel, one final time, as my best friend since I was in infant school, to be my best man when I marry Di on Saturday.”

  “I said no,” Daniel said swiftly. “You don’t even know me any more.” Will bit his lower lip, an expression of sadness crossing his face.

  “He wants to know the you that is now, Daniel, but you won’t let him.” Di was very clear in what she said. There was no uncertainty, no hesitation, but equally no chastisement, just the same gentle sadness he felt from Will. It irritated him.

  “You don’t want to know. Either of you. The things I had to do—”

  “The things everyone had to do. All of our soldiers put their lives to test for our country. There is never expectation that you’ll be the same person after what you have to do.” Di seemed to be the one trying to convince Daniel. If anything, Will had grown quieter, just observing. It was time to change direction with this and get past the deep psychological barriers that he was not letting out and move on to the purely aesthetic.

  “People stare at me all the time, my leg, my scars. It scares them to see me. How can either of you want that on your day?” He pushed the right note of disbelief into his voice. He was experienced in using all the right arguments when needed. It didn’t matter that Sean had spent most of last night telling him how gorgeous he was. He knew what he was, inside and out—damaged goods. Will looked at him, suddenly focused with an open-mouthed expression, and in a flurry of movement, he was on his feet and inches away.