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1.
"You coming to dinner?" Nix asks, pushing the door open into Dick's attic room. The floorboards are warped and creak alarmingly under his feet, but two mismatched lamps fill the room with a warm glow. A soft-looking blue afghan is folded neatly on the bed, and Dick has placed one tiny, framed photograph on his desk. The effect is homey and civilized and wonderful after weeks of wandering through French fields and ditches. Dick glances briefly up from his desk before looking back down at the half-written letter under his hands.
"Yeah, give me one minute," he replies absently. His tie is hung over the back of his chair, his shirt unbuttoned enough to show the hollow of his throat above his white undershirt. Nix leans on the top of the banister, chin on his hands, watching him.
The army's return to Aldbourne had felt almost as good as a true homecoming. Even aside from the relief of not getting shot at on a daily basis, for Nix it's also the first time he's been on friendly soil since this new turn in his relationship with Dick. It's the first time they've had houses for more than a few days at a time instead of borrowed rooms and foxholes. It's the first time they've had time, instead of stolen kisses and speaking touches in the middle of a stuttering but relentless series of battles. They've been back in England for two days already, but there had been the usual crush of trying to re-house a literal army of men and after weeks of invading a foreign country, sleep and showers had been paramount.
But now Nix has on clean clothes, with clean skin underneath. He actually slept eight hours last night, in a bed no less, and Dick's room has a solid door on it. Instead of distant artillery, Nix can hear the comforting sounds of pots and pans clattering downstairs as Dick's hosts, the Abbotts, get ready for their own dinner.
Nix gives the door a gentle push so that it falls closed, and walks over to lean on Dick's desk, watching the smooth motion of his pen across paper, the curve of Dick's neck as he bends over his work. Sometime in these past few hurried days he found time for a haircut, and Nix finds himself unable to look away from the evenly trimmed edge, the devotion to propriety both completely pointless and charming, and perfectly befitting Dick Winters.
"Thanks for waiting," Dick says distractedly as he folds the letter, sliding it into an envelope. He straightens his desk, pens, stacks of paper, and finally he glances up, noticing Nix's heated look for the first time. His brisk, efficient motions falter. And then Nix is sliding one hand around the back of Dick's head, angling their mouths together, and both their eyes slide shut.
Dick takes a moment to free his hands but kisses Nix back immediately, one hand landing on his thigh, the other bunching in his shirt. Nix is too tall from his perch on the desk, so after a moment Dick stands, threads his fingers through Nix's hair, and steps in close, kissing him deeper. Nix doesn't know where Dick learned how to kiss, but it's sweet and hot all at once, and Nix has no complaints. He sends up hearty thanks to the anonymous Pennsylvania girl or boy who must have provided the practice.
Nix slides his hands down Dick's chest and starts to undo his belt. Dick leans into the touch with a wordless murmur but then, to Nix's dismay, shoves himself backwards, pulling hurriedly out of Nix's hold. Nix blinks at him, too startled to say anything. His suddenly empty hands dangle.
"Sorry," Dick says quickly, and he does look it, underneath the flush staining his cheeks. "Sorry, but not here. The Abbotts are like my parents, Lew. I wouldn't bring a girl home to bed, and I can't do this here." He steps closer again, cups Nix's face, still wide-eyed with surprise. "We'll find someplace." He looks into Nix's eyes worriedly. "Right?"
"Yeah," Nix answers automatically, because for Dick, the answer is always yes. Then his brain registers everything Dick had actually said, and he realizes he's not getting laid right now after all. He grimaces, but doesn't take it back. "Yeah, sure." He's been waiting for Dick since somewhere around the second week of OCS and they're not actively being shot at in England, so they have time to sort it out. Nix can be patient when he needs to be. At least for a worthy cause, and Dick Winters is certainly that. He blows out a breath and stands, leaning in to press a rough kiss to Dick's forehead. "We'll find someplace," he agrees. "Dinner now?"
Dick tugs him down, fingers in his hair, and presses a long, lingering kiss into his mouth, against his cheek, and then back to his lips before letting him go, hands dragging and reluctant. "Yeah."
Nix swallows, and they make it to the top of the stairs before Nix takes Dick by the shoulders and pushes him up against the wall. He means to steal another kiss, just a quick one, but Dick gives it up to him instead, mouth yielding and eager. They don't betray the Abbotts' hospitality, but it's a while before they make it to dinner.
2.
Two nights later, Nix throws himself backwards onto his bed with a thump. Dick takes off his jacket more carefully, draping it over the back of a chair, and looks around. "This is nice. Why haven't I seen your place before now?"
Nix isn't sure if Dick is being polite, or lacks a discerning taste, but Nix casts a critical eye over his borrowed, barren room and is as disgruntled as ever with it. It's not a foxhole, and that's about as charitable as Nix can feel about the place. But that's hardly the point tonight. "Because I'm always with you. Get over here." Nix thumps the bed invitingly.
Dick settles himself on the mattress warily. The frame had made a worrying cracking sound when Nix came down on it but it feels sturdy enough now. Nix sits back up and scoots his way over to Dick, wrapping arms around him firmly.
"What about your roommate?" Dick asks. He leans forward, feeling the magnetic pull as strongly as Nix. His fingers stroke over the back of Nix's hand.
"Gone with a weekend pass," Nix murmurs triumphantly, raising a gentle hand to Dick's face. "We've got the whole place to — "
There's a clatter of feet in the hall, giving them just enough time to startle apart before the door crashes open, and three other young officers charge in.
"Nix!" his roommate yells happily. "We need at least one more for poker, you in? Sorry, Captain Winters, didn't see you there. How you doing?"
Nix wants to throw something, but he settles for smacking his hand on the mattress, earning him a sympathetic look from Dick but escaping anyone else's attention. "You guys playing in here?" he asks casually. "Thought you were gone for the weekend."
"Would you believe it, Nix? Fucking Jimmy broke his foot, so my pass gets revoked. Just my luck. Thought we'd play a consolation game of poker."
"Yeah," Nix echoes glumly, sharing a look with Dick. "Your bad luck."
"Jimmy Tucker?" Dick asks, and Nix's roommate nods solemnly.
"Yessir, got run over by a Jeep. Goddamn replacements."
Dick rises off the bed. "I better go check in."
Nix looks at him, pleading, but Dick shakes his head. "I'll catch you tomorrow."
Nix watches him go and then pulls off his tie, hurling it to the ground with a dissatisfying smack. "Alright, boys, deal me in."
3.
The following day, Nix pushes a door open and holds his arm out, eyebrows raised expectantly. Dick peers in, then looks at him. "Lew, this is a closet." Nix just blinks at him, and Dick tries to clarify. "Lew, this is Sink's office closet."
"And he's gone for the week," Nix agrees easily. "Safe as houses."
Nix isn't an idiot. Yeah, it's a closet, but it's at least spacious and not horribly disgusting. On the other hand it is inside Sink's office, but surely they can just ignore that part.
Dick throws him a skeptical look and walks away without any further word. Nix sighs and shuts the door.
4.
"Not that I don't enjoy the company, but where the hell are we going, Dick? We've been walking for an hour." Nix steals Dick's canteen and takes a swig of water.
Dick raises an eyebrow at him. "Officially? We're location scouting for some training exercises. Unofficially, I thought we might find someplace private, since we have the afternoon to spare."
Nix eyes him with newfound respect. "Well. Aren't you using the army's time efficiently. So why didn't we borrow a jeep, at least?"
Dick shrugs, tossing a grin over his shoulder. "It's a nice day. I felt like a walk."
Nix would object, but it is actually a beautiful day. The sun is shining, birds are singing, and it's storybook perfect, with the little English town receding into the distance behind them, and little thatched English farmhouses the only buildings they pass.
It's only a few minutes longer before Dick turns down a dirt path with all the certainty as if he'd been waiting for it. He leads them up to a picturesque red barn, and after walking once around, he opens the door and walks inside.
"What's wrong with the house?" Nix asks, peering down the lane at a cozy looking stone cottage.
"An old widow lives there," Dick answers, distracted as he looks around for something, Nix has no idea what. "Farm's been more or less abandoned for a few years."
"Where are you getting this?" Nix asks, both impressed and disgruntled. He appreciates Dick's preparedness, but it is Nix's job to be the intelligence officer. He doesn't like being on the receiving end of this sort of thing.
"I told you," Dick replies, smiling as if he knows everything Nix is thinking. He probably does. "Location scouting for training exercises. We could actually use this place. It happened to fulfill two distinct needs."
Dick strides forward now, ducking into a small room and emerging with a large wool blanket, which he tucks over his shoulder before climbing the ladder against the far wall. "Shut the door, will you?" he calls over his shoulder.
Nix does as requested, pausing to admire the view as Dick climbs the ladder and swings himself over the top. "A hayloft? Do you realize that you're conforming to every debauched farmyard fantasy I've been harboring for months?"
Dick's face re-appears over the ladder, a wry grin lighting his features. "Happy to oblige," he says drily. He disappears again, and Nix starts his climb up the ladder. "You do know that Lancaster is a city?" his voice floats back down to Nix. "My parents moved into town exactly so I wouldn't grow up in the middle of nowhere."
"You find comfort in haylofts," Nix disagrees, rounding the top of the ladder.
Dick is waiting for him, the blanket spread out across a thick pile of hay that he's shaken loose from its bales. "I find privacy in abandoned barns," he corrects.
Nix settles himself next to Dick, and Dick immediately kneels over his lap, winding insistent hands through his hair and tugging him in for a kiss. Nix is only too happy to yield, tilting his head back and settling his hands on Dick's hips. Nix lets his eyes drift shut, enjoying the slight tug of Dick's fingers tangling in his hair, the soft press of Dick's mouth, the heavy weight of Dick in his lap.
Dick leans back after a while, brushing his lips along Nix's cheek, his temple, and slides his hands down to start tugging at the knot of Nix's tie. Nix sniffs and reaches up to do the same to Dick's tie. He pulls it loose and then pauses, sniffing again. He pushes Dick back with a hand to his chest. Dick lets go reluctantly.
"Wait," Nix warns, brows knotted, and draws in one shaky breath before turning his head to sneeze harshly into his elbow.
"Bless you," Dick tells him automatically. Nix gasps and sneezes again. "Bless you," he repeats, and Nix sneezes a third time. A smile twitches across Dick's face. "Bless you."
Nix looks up, rubbing his nose firmly. "Thanks." He starts to pull Dick back towards him and then stops, looking away in annoyance as his breath hitches again and his brows draw together, eyes squinting.
"Bless you?" Dick suggests. Nix sneezes five times in a row before he pauses for breath, and Dick blinks at him worriedly. "You all right?"
Nix sniffs suspiciously. "I think there's a problem with my farm fantasy," he admits, his voice a little thick.
Dick sits back on the blanket with a sigh. "You're allergic." Nix is still sniffing, his expression starting to go hazy again. Dick fishes a handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it over just before Nix sneezes again.
"Maybe if we give it a minute," he croaks, and Dick peers at him through the dim light.
"Your face is getting splotchy," he points out in disappointment, and Nix groans.
"My eyes are burning," he admits, and then pitches forward with another sneeze.
Dick rises to his feet and fixes his tie, then takes Nix by the elbow. "Come on," he says. "Let's get out of here."
Nix groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. "So much for our afternoon," he grumbles, swinging himself back down the ladder.
Dick pats him on the shoulder. "It'll still work for training exercises."
5.
It's evening again, long past dinner, and the tapping of a steady rain on the windows is the most prominent sound. Dick looks up from his book at Nix's louder rap on his door, marking his place with a finger and swinging his legs off the bed. "What's up?"
"Nothing," Nix assures him, crossing the room. "All's quiet. Just stay there."
Dick watches him approach, frowning a little when Nix sits down next to him on the narrow bed and begins to unlace his boots. "Lew," he warns, voice heavy, though he puts his book aside. "Not here."
"I heard you the first time," Nix says easily. "And I'm still working on other locations." Nix focuses on his boots, eyes fixed on his laces. "You think that's the only reason I come around? I barely see you lately." He feels Dick's measuring gaze on him, but Dick only smiles, eyes crinkling.
"You could come to PT with the rest of the company."
Nix shudders. "No, thank you." He finally pulls off his boots and slides out of his jacket, dropping it in a heap on the floor as well. When he looks up, Dick is watching him with the steady, unflinching look that Nix finds both unnerving and magnetically attractive. Dick reaches for him, murmuring his name, and Nix catches his hand, squeezing Dick's fingers and studying them. Dick waits. "Good book?" Nix asks, and Dick blinks, distracted.
"It's alright."
"Carry on, then." While Dick is frowning at him, Nix burrows onto the bed behind Dick, squeezing into the narrow space between Dick's hip and the wall. He puts his head on Dick's thigh and drapes his arm over Dick's lap. Dick finally gets with the picture and swings his legs back up, dropping an arm around Nix's shoulders. Nix nestles in closer, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. "Wake me up in an hour," he mumbles, and feels Dick's fingers land in his hair.
There's a long pause, and Nix would be nervous except for how gentle Dick's hands are. "Yeah," Dick finally agrees. After a minute there's a rustle of pages as Dick picks up his book again, but he keeps one hand moving absently through Nix's hair.
+1.
Nix lifts the canvas on a covered truck, holding it open in invitation. "Hop in," he urges softly.
Dick quirks a face at him. "Why?" he asks, pitching his voice equally low.
Nix motions him along hurriedly. "Dick, if I don't get ten goddamn minutes with you soon I'm going to explode. It's not ideal, but it's here. Is that good enough?"
Dick eyes the truck dubiously, but after checking around to be sure the evening street is empty of witnesses, he climbs up. Nix clambers in behind him and tucks the canvas into place, sealing them in.
Dick may have started out skeptical, but five minutes later, Nix is panting against Dick's throat, and Dick is hushing him against the little moans that Nix can't seem to help every time Dick's hand twists just right. Nix closes his mouth on Dick's collarbone. He'd gotten Dick's tie off, but his shirt is only partially unbuttoned, and how is it even possible that Dick is still perfectly buttoned up while his is hand down Nix's pants? Then Dick squeezes him on the upstroke, and Nix loses his focus yet again.
Dick whines very softly when Nix finally works his way into his pants, jerking up into Nix's touch in a way that's truly gratifying, considering Nix's hands are shaking and his coordination is shot. But Dick is already slick to the touch and they rock against one another, soft gasps muffled into skin and clothes. It's not long before Nix feels himself tipping over into his orgasm, the feeling rippling up from the base of his spine until he shoves himself hard against Dick's touch, hips jerking with his release. Dick shudders against him only a few seconds later, gasping hot and desperate against Nix's ear, spilling into Nix's hand.
"Okay, okay, okay," Nix whispers against Dick's temple, because it's safer to say something meaningless than all the promises and declarations threatening to spill out of his lips. But even if he manages to hold back the words, his lips keep moving, giving him away, pressing a hundred tiny kisses to Dick's cheek, his lips, his nose and eyelids and jaw and ear. His hand is wrapped tightly around the back of Dick's neck, holding their faces together. But Dick doesn't pull away, even as his breathing slows and evens. He only shifts, eventually, to resettle their weight on the truck's floor. Slowly Nix calms, his grip loosening. When he heaves a final, satisfied sigh, he drops his head, and feels Dick's lips brush his forehead.
Finally Nix huffs out a soft laugh, kisses Dick's temple a final time, and releases him. "Not a room at the Ritz, I know," he murmurs, and Dick smiles with a fondness that almost pains Nix and reaches right back for him, starting to tug his clothes to right again.
"Where'd be the fun in that?"