Work Text:
Best Friends Forever
Two-Hundred Years Ago
"Captain Roland helped me choose the design, and went into Dover for me to pick it up," Temeraire said anxiously, peering over Laurence's shoulder. "Do you not like it? I thought it would not be too large."
Laurence turned the small charm over in his hand and opened his mouth, then closed it again. He would not say anything until he was certain the correct words would come out.
It was not that it was an ugly charm. It was small and gold, suspended from a thin chain. Laurence turned it over again. On one side were the letters "st ends." The other side was blank. "No, my dear, I quite like it," he assured Temeraire after the silence had dragged on just a little too long. "Only--what is it?"
"Oh! I thought that you might not be able to tell, because I have the other half, do you see?" Temeraire stretched out his neck around Laurence so that his breastplate was within reach. "Put them together, Laurence! Then you shall see."
Laurence laughed. It was good to see Temeraire in such good spirits, particularly after some of the last few weeks. He was so excited that his tail was thrashing madly, making the breastplate swing back and forth. Laurence reached out and steadied it; as he did so, a small charm, delicate chain looped through one of the links of the much larger chain, caught his eye. Its shape matched his own.
Cautiously, Laurence flipped the charm over to show letters, then put his own next to it. They made a heart with the words "Best Friends" written on it.
"There! Do you see now? It is not fair that I should have jewelry, and you none. Now everyone will know that you are the finest captain in all England, and that you are mine."
Laurence smiled warmly at his dragon. "Indeed, there can now be no doubt. Thank you for the excellent gift, Temeraire. I will wear it always." Then, fairly sure he would not like the answer but unable to not ask it, he said, "You said Captain Roland helped you find it?"
Temeraire curled more closely around Laurence. "Roland—that is, Emily Roland—suggested her to me when I mentioned wanting to give you a present. I designed it myself; with her suggestions, of course. A jeweler in Dover made it based on our design and I was very grateful for her going into town for it, as I would not have been able to."
Laurence placed a hand on Temeraire's cheek affectionately. "I shall treasure it the more knowing you had the designing of it, as well as the giving."
As Laurence clasped the chain around his neck and tucked the charm under his coat, he felt a number of things: surety that Jane would tease him mercilessly (and also that he now owed her money); warmth both at the gift and the sentiment behind it; relief that the inappropriate jewelry was so easily hidden; and foreboding that this gift would not be the last such gift from his dragon that he had no choice but to accept.
But also conviction that they would, indeed, be friends forever.
Now
"I didn't think you were real," Will said blankly, staring at the apparition before him. He felt he couldn't really be blamed for this belief: he had, after all, been somewhat drunk at the time. Not to mention the word "apparition" was surprisingly accurate.
"I'm no dream!" The smaller boy said cheerfully, his long black hair—and the many trinkets woven into said hair—swaying with his movements. "I can't blame you for thinking so, though. I am pretty amazing, after all."
Will blinked. He was finding it hard to focus. Not only did his not-a-dream boy have shiny metal things and ribbons in his hair, he also had at least five earrings in each ear, a stud in his nose, four necklaces, and six rings. It would have made sense had he been wearing black and scowling, but he was instead dressed in something made of red and purple silk—Chinese, maybe?
"So what's your name?" The boy asked, apparently not fazed by Will's gaping. Probably used to it. "Mine's Tim—well, Timothy, really, but everybody calls me Tim. Tim Raire."
"Will Laurence," Will finally managed. Unbidden, his mouth quirked up in a smile. His dream was just as amusing in real life. "It's nice to meet you."
"So polite!" Tim marveled. Then he slipped his hand into Will's and tugged. "I can tell we're going to be good friends. C'mon, I'll show you to homeroom."
Helplessly—but strangely not bothered by it—Will followed him.
*
Will settled into this new school faster than he ever had before, and it was all because of Tim. Tim introduced Will to his friends: to Jane, John, and Tharkay, and also to Iskierka (“it's Turkish, okay? Leave off!”), whose temper was as hot as Tim was flamboyant. Strangely, for the first time he could remember, Will was happy.
"C'mon, Air Force brat!" Tim pleaded. "You know you want to! After that party you can't possibly claim you can't sing, and don't think I haven't seen that guitar stashed in your closet! Say you'll do it!"
Will swallowed his bite of PB&J with difficulty and shook his head. "No way."
"What's this?" Jane asked, always interested in the latest gossip (and also new ways to tease Will, which seemed comforting somehow).
John grinned and leaned over the table; Will buried his face in his hands. When those two got going together there was no hope--but he refused to just roll over and give in. Not this time. "Turns out our transfer student is secretly a musical prodigy. Something about New Years? Anyway, Tim's been trying to get Will to sign up for the new musical auditions for days now. They're pair auditions, but Will's been holding firm, and Tim can't enter by himself."
"Oh really," Jane drawled. "Five bucks says Will gives in."
John shook his head with a laugh. "That's a sucker's bet! No way."
"Wiiiillllll…" Tim scooted closer to Will on the bench, stuck out his lower lip, and fluttered his unfairly long lashes. "Please, Will? Pleeeease?"
Will straightened his spine and sternly told himself to be strong. "I don't sing in public." Then Tim added quivering eyes, and Will broke. "…fine."
"Yes!" Tim was off the bench and gone before Will could blink. "You won't regret it, you'll see! This'll be great!" And then he was gone--to put their names on the sign-up shed before Will could come to his senses, no doubt.
"He really likes you, you know," Jane said quietly. Will turned to look at her and was caught by her serious expression. "Tim, that is. He really does." Then she pinned him down with her glare. "If you're one of those bigoted homophobic types, you'd better get over it quick, because there is no way that we're letting you hurt Tim."
Will gulped (Jane was scary), then shook his head and met her eyes. "I would never hurt Tim," he said, and felt the truth of it in his bones. "Never."
*
There were five minutes until curtain. Will glanced at Tim out of the corner of his eyes, looked around the buzzing backstage, and decided there was no time like the present. "I got you something."
Tim's face lit up. "Oh? For me? A present?"
Will laughed self-deprecatingly. "I know it's not your birthday or anything, but when I saw this I had to get it for you." He pulled the necklace out of his pocket and held it out.
Tim took it and turned it over. "Best friends," he said, smiling, and looked up at Will.
Will pulled his own half out of his shirt. "I know it's silly, but--"
"No, no! I love it!" Tim gave the necklace back to Will and turned around, holding his hair out of the way. "Put it on me?"
Will did, proud that his hands only trembled a little. When his fingers brushed Tim's neck they both shivered.
"Hey, Will," Tim said suddenly, turning back around. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you. If you want to fly so much, why the Air Force like your Dad? Why not Dragon Transport?"
Will shrugged uncomfortably. "I dunno. It never felt right. It wouldn't--" he stopped and shrugged again. It wouldn't have been you, he wanted to say, but that was ridiculous. He'd only just met Tim this year, and besides, Tim wasn't a dragon. He shook the strangely fitting image out of his head. "It just never felt right," he repeated.
Tim nodded as if this made perfect sense, then took a step forward, erasing the space between them. He put a hand on Will's chest and said, "I feel like I've been waiting for you my whole life."
Will took a breath and felt something click into place. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was the world. He opened his mouth—
"Everyone! Places! Curtain in one minute!" Their drama teacher's voice called. Will shut his mouth on whatever it was he'd been going to say—and what had he been going to say, anyway?—and picked up Tim's hand instead. "Excuse me, my lady. My audience awaits."
Tim laughed with delight as Will placed a chaste kiss on the back of his hand. "Till then, Antonio."
Will waggled his eyebrows just to make Tim laugh again. "My lovely Maria." He bowed smartly, turned on his heal, and headed to the wings, his heart light.
Life was good.