fanfic and original writing by ar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
witticaster) wrote2010-07-11 12:01 am
witticaster) wrote2010-07-11 12:01 am
Entry tags:
0243
Eh, not very good.
William had expected to spend the afternoon alone, watching Portsmouth lose a football match and generally making a lazy day of his Saturday. Archie had some kind of rehearsal to attend, and, William imagined, had made plans to spend the afternoon reading in their room, as had been his wont lately. He had taken to leaving the door open, rather than shutting himself up entire, and William in turn had done his best not to walk past to check on him too often. Football made a good enough distraction that his mind wouldn't turn to Archie as often as it otherwise might.
To his surprise, though, Archie returned home and, after divesting himself of his shoes, came to curl up at William's side during a time-out. "Who's winning?"
"We are," William said, trying to keep from letting too broad a smile escape him as he looked over at Archie. Putting a tentative arm around him, he added, "For the moment, anyhow."
"Mm," Archie said, and lay his head on William's shoulder. They sat together so through the rest of the game, excepting the moment when William nearly leapt out of his seat at a missed goal. During breaks in the game, William inquired politely how the rehearsal had gone, and Archie replied, just as politely, "I'm not sure why we bother hiring actors, primary school children are about as likely to do what you tell them."
William chuckled, and Archie, too, and by the end of the game (which Portsmouth did lose, as William predicted), William had forgotten to marvel at how very much he had missed Archie as he was at that moment. Things felt suddenly as they had been before, comfortable and close.
After William had groaned his dismay at the telly--in a season this promising, every loss seemed like a setback--Archie took the remote from his hand and switched the telly off. "William," he murmured, capturing the hand not currently resting on his arm, "will you do something for me?"
"Anything," was his immediate response, not least because of the smile so evident in Archie's voice.
Archie leaned up and pecked him on the cheek for the sentiment; the warmth in William's breast only increased, and he curled his arm around Archie a little tighter. "Sing me something, if you please."
Of all requests, William had not thought to expect this one--had not known what to expect at all, truly--and suddenly found himself unable to think of anything he might sing. He must think of something, though, and quickly, before Archie translated his hesitation as doubtfulness. Feeling entirely ridiculous, he sang quietly, "Play up, Pompey. Pompey, play up."
It drew a laugh from Archie, amused but not mocking; William could imagine no better sound at that moment, especially as Archie interlaced his long fingers with William's own. He made his request then, "'Let the Great Big World Keep Turning,' please," and William was only too happy to comply.
William had expected to spend the afternoon alone, watching Portsmouth lose a football match and generally making a lazy day of his Saturday. Archie had some kind of rehearsal to attend, and, William imagined, had made plans to spend the afternoon reading in their room, as had been his wont lately. He had taken to leaving the door open, rather than shutting himself up entire, and William in turn had done his best not to walk past to check on him too often. Football made a good enough distraction that his mind wouldn't turn to Archie as often as it otherwise might.
To his surprise, though, Archie returned home and, after divesting himself of his shoes, came to curl up at William's side during a time-out. "Who's winning?"
"We are," William said, trying to keep from letting too broad a smile escape him as he looked over at Archie. Putting a tentative arm around him, he added, "For the moment, anyhow."
"Mm," Archie said, and lay his head on William's shoulder. They sat together so through the rest of the game, excepting the moment when William nearly leapt out of his seat at a missed goal. During breaks in the game, William inquired politely how the rehearsal had gone, and Archie replied, just as politely, "I'm not sure why we bother hiring actors, primary school children are about as likely to do what you tell them."
William chuckled, and Archie, too, and by the end of the game (which Portsmouth did lose, as William predicted), William had forgotten to marvel at how very much he had missed Archie as he was at that moment. Things felt suddenly as they had been before, comfortable and close.
After William had groaned his dismay at the telly--in a season this promising, every loss seemed like a setback--Archie took the remote from his hand and switched the telly off. "William," he murmured, capturing the hand not currently resting on his arm, "will you do something for me?"
"Anything," was his immediate response, not least because of the smile so evident in Archie's voice.
Archie leaned up and pecked him on the cheek for the sentiment; the warmth in William's breast only increased, and he curled his arm around Archie a little tighter. "Sing me something, if you please."
Of all requests, William had not thought to expect this one--had not known what to expect at all, truly--and suddenly found himself unable to think of anything he might sing. He must think of something, though, and quickly, before Archie translated his hesitation as doubtfulness. Feeling entirely ridiculous, he sang quietly, "Play up, Pompey. Pompey, play up."
It drew a laugh from Archie, amused but not mocking; William could imagine no better sound at that moment, especially as Archie interlaced his long fingers with William's own. He made his request then, "'Let the Great Big World Keep Turning,' please," and William was only too happy to comply.