Chapter Text
Collins was late back to the barracks rooms that night. He was frustrated, having been forced to stop by the medical bay for Watkins to check out what was wrong with his wrist. They had determined that it was a severe sprain, which ended with him requesting for Collins to be grounded until he was considered well enough to continue. There had been no discussion of how he had earned said injury (falling off the roof of one of the smaller buildings at Biggins Hill), nor what he intended to do if he was in fact grounded (sit in the hangar and try to help some of the workmen). But that also meant that he was late, left to walk all by his lonesome in the dark. That left him feeling a bit more sour than he wanted to admit. Not even Farrier had waited for him.
But then again, he had seemed excited by the promises of drink and dance that had been offered by Blythe. Well, as excited as one such as Farrier could get. And if it was enough to get him excited, then Collins was alright walking by himself. Besides, it was a short enough distance that the night air only served to invigorate him.
Much to his excitement upon stepping out of the Mess (where he had found himself spinning and almost falling down to the steps due to Farrier wrapping an arm around his waist during the meal time, if only just to guide him out of the way), the sky was clear enough to see the stars. With the sounds of the men laughing behind him and the stars above him, he could almost bear the solitude. It was something he wouldn't say often, but the feeling was enjoyable enough that night that he could even see himself enjoying the time grounded, if they weren't in the middle of a war.
Maybe he could catch up on his reading, too.
His mother had sent him a few books a month or so prior. Beautiful books, ones that he would treasure and love dearly. A tether to his home.
Even when Collins approached the small porch of their building, the swirl of good feelings was not leaving despite hearing the slow sound of music inside. Any other night he might have groaned at the thought of watching the men act all sappy and stupid, something he wished every night for the chance to do with a certain Englishman. Rapping softly at the door as he always did after catching Lavigne naked, Collins pushed open the door and sighed as the music became louder.
Much to his surprise, he couldn't hear any of the usual banter. It was only ten to ten; was everyone becoming such an old man? Even the thought of some of them with gray hair makes Collins scoff, thinking about how it would be so much nicer if they all disappeared much earlier in the evening. Despite his own mix of exhaustion, pain medicine, and the slight mix of alcohol he had taken from Blythe during the meal, he enjoyed the silence.
Stepping into the main living quarters after deciding he would turn the music off for the night, Collins was shocked at the sight of Farrier on the couch. A forgotten drink was in his hand, slowly swirling as he slouched. It was a gorgeous sight, Collins thought shakily as he leaned against the door frame. Looking up at the movement at the door, he blinked in surprise, and Collins could tell even from across the room that he was hovering on the precipice of having a hangover the next morning. "Collins?"
"Aye," He smiled, moving quickly across the room and picking up several abandoned glasses on his way, "I'm glad you can still see straight, Farrier."
"Because two of you is completely normal," The hum in reply made Farrier chuckle, standing up and limping towards Collins. He went unnoticed by the other, who was bent over trying to grab a photograph that had fallen off the wall. He pounced as soon as Collins straightened, grabbing the younger man by the waist and burying his head against the fabric of his uniform. Collins gave a sharp intake of breath that hurt his throat, freezing under the contact.
The two had been drunk around each other before, but it was always with a group or Farrier carrying a drunk Collins back to their room. "This alright?"
"Farrier..." Collins whispered, his hands struggling to figure out what to do. They had had instances similar in the past, but nothing while drunk. And just like that, all of his confidence left him and he couldn't breathe. Farrier seemed to sense the hesitancy, pulling back and setting his glass down beside the others. "'m sorry, Jack."
"No, no," He was desperate for that feeling again, the one that left him breathless and safe in Farrier's arms, not even caring that he sounded desperate. Maybe it would be something he winced at in the morning, but in the moment he craved the touch. "Don't go, Tom."
He turned, leaving the photograph in its correct spot on the mantle. Farrier blinked in surprise, his cheeks flushed as he tried to think about what they were doing. What could be done, all alone in the night. Curfew would come all too soon, but it wasn’t something either worried too much about.
Farrier’s next movements were sharp, like a doll being guided by untrained hands. He held out a hand to Collins, fingers trembling just enough to be noticeable. Something like that- Collins so hardheartedly accepting the hand Farrier offered him- would normally never happen, especially if they were both in their right minds. They were both far too introverted to do that, especially with people so close by. But that night, with music that Farrier hurried to put on, Collins accepted his hand. "A dance?"
"Great minds think alike," Farrier winked, pulling Collins close to him in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. A hand rested on Collins' hip, one holding his hand as Farrier slowly swayed him back and forth. Collins could feel his face heat up, the music beginning to pick up. Farrier's eyes stay on him the entire time, catching every movement, every little change of expression. As if looking for something that told him to back off.
Collins was startled by their height difference when they were so close, to the point where Farrier could lean forward and press his lips lightly to Collins' nose if he wished to. Some part of him wished for it.
Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again...
"You're so stiff," Farrier murmured as he spun Collins out, gently returning his hand to his back and pulling him so their fronts were flush. Collins scoffed, slowly regaining his attitude. "Aye, I'm not drunk."
You’re gorgeous." The words were so sincere that Collins almost missed them. He glanced up, watching as Farrier's hand raised, gently running over his cheek as they slowed to a stop. The music continued, and the two stared at each other. "Tom...?"
The movement was sudden, Farrier's hand remaining on Collins' cheek as he darted forward and pressed their lips together. The kiss was messy, but Collins found himself loving it in the way he had always imagined he would. Farrier's hand on his back pulled him closer, as if they could swallow each other whole, somehow get even closer than they already were. His eyes squeezed shut as Farrier's other hand moved to his hair, gently running through it.
Haven't felt like this, my dear, since I can't remember when
Farrier mumbled words against the kiss, earning a chuckle from Collins as he pulled back. "What was that?"
You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you, or just how empty they all seemed without you...
"I love you."
It's been a long, long time...