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No True Pair Sept. 1 (Algy/Ginger)
Today's prompt is one that the Algy/Ginger shippers should appreciate. Except it didn't end up as porn, it's actually Algy being angsty about things. Mostly.
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September One - Algy & Ginger - when the cat's away...
There was something almost eerie about the Mount Street flat in the absence of the others, Algy thought. He was at the writing table in the sitting room with some overdue correspondence spread in front of him, but found himself unable to concentrate for the too-loud ticking of the clock. It made him think too much of those early days after the first war, when Biggles was cold and strange, so that it was like living with a ghost some days—as if the best part of him, of both of them, hadn't survived the war.
But all of that was long over, and he didn't know why quiet evenings at the flat could get to him as they sometimes did, throwing him back into memories he rarely dwelt upon otherwise.
The opening and closing of the door off the landing brought his head up with a smile. Ginger came in, juggling a large, squashy packet of sandwiches tied with string, a handful of envelopes and circulars, and an umbrella. His red hair was frosted with light droplets of rain.
"They were out of corned beef so I got you cheese and pickle instead," he called, dropping the post on the table. "Heard anything from Biggles and Bertie?"
"Yes, they won't back until tomorrow at the earliest." Algy stood and stretched, and as he popped the aches in his spine, he relished the homely, human sounds of Ginger putting away his mac and umbrella, as usual making about three times the noise of any regular person.
"What's that look for?" Ginger asked, making Algy realize that he'd stopped stretching to watch.
"Just—" Glad not to be alone, which was absurd, as Ginger had only gone out to get their dinner and the paper. He couldn't say it, so he closed the distance between them and caught Ginger off guard with a kiss. Ginger's lips were cool, his corded jumper slightly damp. After the first startled moment, he kissed back with enthusiasm.
"So we're the only ones here tonight," Ginger murmured, running his hands through Algy's hair.
"Looks like it." Algy tugged him forward, toward the fire and the inviting rug in front of the hearth. "Sandwiches'll keep. I think we need to make a little noise before I'll have an appetite."
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September One - Algy & Ginger - when the cat's away...
There was something almost eerie about the Mount Street flat in the absence of the others, Algy thought. He was at the writing table in the sitting room with some overdue correspondence spread in front of him, but found himself unable to concentrate for the too-loud ticking of the clock. It made him think too much of those early days after the first war, when Biggles was cold and strange, so that it was like living with a ghost some days—as if the best part of him, of both of them, hadn't survived the war.
But all of that was long over, and he didn't know why quiet evenings at the flat could get to him as they sometimes did, throwing him back into memories he rarely dwelt upon otherwise.
The opening and closing of the door off the landing brought his head up with a smile. Ginger came in, juggling a large, squashy packet of sandwiches tied with string, a handful of envelopes and circulars, and an umbrella. His red hair was frosted with light droplets of rain.
"They were out of corned beef so I got you cheese and pickle instead," he called, dropping the post on the table. "Heard anything from Biggles and Bertie?"
"Yes, they won't back until tomorrow at the earliest." Algy stood and stretched, and as he popped the aches in his spine, he relished the homely, human sounds of Ginger putting away his mac and umbrella, as usual making about three times the noise of any regular person.
"What's that look for?" Ginger asked, making Algy realize that he'd stopped stretching to watch.
"Just—" Glad not to be alone, which was absurd, as Ginger had only gone out to get their dinner and the paper. He couldn't say it, so he closed the distance between them and caught Ginger off guard with a kiss. Ginger's lips were cool, his corded jumper slightly damp. After the first startled moment, he kissed back with enthusiasm.
"So we're the only ones here tonight," Ginger murmured, running his hands through Algy's hair.
"Looks like it." Algy tugged him forward, toward the fire and the inviting rug in front of the hearth. "Sandwiches'll keep. I think we need to make a little noise before I'll have an appetite."
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The thing I was noticing most of all this time is how Bertie and Ginger (though obviously they're taking it seriously as a mission) are also having some fun along the way; it's kind of an adventure for them. Algy, meanwhile, is FAR too distressed about Biggles to notice little things like "scenery" and in fact doesn't sleep for the entire time between their parachute landing and finding Biggles. He must be running on pure adrenaline and worry by the time he finally gets to fall asleep in Castillon ...
(In fact this makes me think a missing scene may need to be written.)
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Awwww. Thinking about the lives they had (WW1) it makes me happy to imagine Algy having someone to be not-alone with ♥
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Algy absolutely needs that after sitting alone in the flat brooding - and I completely believe that he wouldn't do well by himself surrounded by complicated memories - and I love Ginger making enough noise for three people and being real and a little soggy and very kissable here <3
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