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July Break Bingo: Restaurant
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sheron provided some inspiration for this one. We were talking about jet lag and whether Biggles ever experiences it and ... WELL.
Prompt: Location: Restaurant
1000 words, Biggles & Erich, gen or pre-slash
Erich arrived a few minutes early to their usual restaurant, as was his custom. The appointed time came and went, and it turned out that Bigglesworth was late, which was not typical of him. Still, Erich knew that he had been out of the country for work. Delays could happen.
Erich had a coffee, and an hour later he was nursing another and wondering whether he ought to order, go home, or call Scotland Yard, when abruptly a fast-moving slight figure appeared, gliding swiftly and gracefully between the tables.
"Erich, hello. I apologize. We're just back this evening and it was nothing but delays at the Yard. I thought you'd have gone, to be honest." All of this came out in a rush. Bigglesworth was tousled, slightly flushed, and his eyes were bright, his entire body almost vibrating. He was magnetic, impossible to look away from.
Erich got up to gesture him to the opposite chair. "Do not concern yourself. I have nowhere else to be. I was going to order your usual—unless you'd like something else?"
"No ... that's fine, please do." As Erich beckoned the waiter, Bigglesworth added, reaching for his menu as if to give himself something to do with his hands, "I'm not terribly hungry, to be honest. Do you know, my body still thinks it's four hours later. Flights are so swift these days."
This led to a rapid-fire monologue on changes in aeroplane technology over the years, interrupted by the waiter taking their orders. From there, as Bigglesworth settled a bit, they leapfrogged topics with ease. They chatted about Bigglesworth's latest case and a particular restaurant he had enjoyed in Karachi; about a free outdoor concert Erich had attended and the difficulties of getting a broken stair fixed in his building. A few minutes after their food had arrived (Bigglesworth having taken only a few bites), Erich noticed that he had gone silent, listening to Erich talk without his usual swift interjections, chin propped on his fist.
"You look tired," Erich said with affectionate indulgence.
"Mmm. I've been on the go all day. And this day started very early, in a time zone rather west of here ..." Bigglesworth smothered a yawn. "Now you have me thinking about it. I'm fine. Go on, you were saying?"
But he seemed to drift again, his eyelids dipping, half asleep as he gazed across the table as if looking at Erich was the one thing keeping him from falling asleep entirely.
Erich smiled and put down his fork and knife. "Bigglesworth, I am enjoying this meal, but I think we need to take—what's the phrase? A rain check. You would be more comfortable at home, I think."
"I don't need it. A little coffee will have me right as rain." He sat up straight, making a visible effort to wake himself up.
"Then why don't we go back to my place?" Erich suggested. "It's much nearer. We could get this wrapped up, and I'll make a pot of coffee for us." Though he doubted he'd drink any himself. He was still jangling from the two strong cups earlier.
It was not unusual for their evenings to end with a quiet cup of coffee and a lingering goodbye. In this particular case, Bigglesworth was hardly awake enough to care, Erich suspected. He had to swiftly transfer their bundled takeaway to one hand so he could take Bigglesworth by the elbow and steer him across the step down from the restaurant to the pavement, which they had both stepped over dozens of times.
"Perhaps we should get you a taxi home," Erich suggested, as Bigglesworth made a visible effort to stop drooping on him sleepily.
"Nonsense." The slight weight against Erich's arm departed abruptly as Bigglesworth straightened up again. Erich reached out to touch his arm and prevented him from running into a lamppost. Unaware of his close call, Bigglesworth said with the careful enunciation of the slightly inebriated, "I'm perfectly fine. The walk will clear my head, and as you said, coffee will help."
"I expect your pilots are already in their beds."
"I'm sure they are," Bigglesworth allowed. "Algy tried to talk me into coming back to the flat—But there's no sense in us ending the evening quite so early, is there?"
Erich's chest felt strangely warm.
Bigglesworth managed to get up the stairs under his own power. It was only when they stepped inside that he stopped abruptly and leaned against the wall. Erich, having taken off his own coat, nudged him, and Bigglesworth jolted as if coming awake, blinking rapidly. "Where—? Oh."
"My flat," Erich said, and took one sleeve, helping him off with his coat.
"Oh. Yes. Of course." Bigglesworth smothered a yawn, and once more visibly forced himself more awake, blinking. "I'm being a poor guest. Just give me a minute. You said there was coffee?"
"Yes, there will be. I need to make it." Erich guided him to the sofa, a relatively new addition to the small sitting room, taking up enough room that there was little space to move around it. "Here, lie down for a minute. I'll have it ready soon."
He went to put their leftovers in the icebox, got out the small sack of coffee, and then set it on the counter thoughtfully. He went back to see if there was any need for it at all.
There was not. Bigglesworth was fast asleep, as if he'd hardly had a chance to sink down on the sofa before he was gone. He was in the awkward position in which he had sunk down on the cushions, head turned to the side, one arm drooping off so that his hand brushed the floor.
Erich felt an almost overwhelming wave of tenderness wash through him. He went to his bedroom and fetched a blanket, and covered Bigglesworth carefully, tucking up the fallen arm and adjusting the pillows a little so he wouldn't wake up too stiff and sore.
For his own part, Erich knew would not be sleeping himself for a little while yet. He turned on his desk lamp and laid out the materials for his latest translation. As he sharpened a pencil, the soft grind of the sharpener was the only sound in the stillness, other than some street noise coming up from below and a faint, occasional snore from Bigglesworth. It was quiet and pleasant. Peaceful.
"Not bad company at all," Erich murmured. He reached over to twitch up the blanket to cover Bigglesworth's shoulder.
sheron provided some inspiration for this one. We were talking about jet lag and whether Biggles ever experiences it and ... WELL.Prompt: Location: Restaurant
1000 words, Biggles & Erich, gen or pre-slash
Erich arrived a few minutes early to their usual restaurant, as was his custom. The appointed time came and went, and it turned out that Bigglesworth was late, which was not typical of him. Still, Erich knew that he had been out of the country for work. Delays could happen.
Erich had a coffee, and an hour later he was nursing another and wondering whether he ought to order, go home, or call Scotland Yard, when abruptly a fast-moving slight figure appeared, gliding swiftly and gracefully between the tables.
"Erich, hello. I apologize. We're just back this evening and it was nothing but delays at the Yard. I thought you'd have gone, to be honest." All of this came out in a rush. Bigglesworth was tousled, slightly flushed, and his eyes were bright, his entire body almost vibrating. He was magnetic, impossible to look away from.
Erich got up to gesture him to the opposite chair. "Do not concern yourself. I have nowhere else to be. I was going to order your usual—unless you'd like something else?"
"No ... that's fine, please do." As Erich beckoned the waiter, Bigglesworth added, reaching for his menu as if to give himself something to do with his hands, "I'm not terribly hungry, to be honest. Do you know, my body still thinks it's four hours later. Flights are so swift these days."
This led to a rapid-fire monologue on changes in aeroplane technology over the years, interrupted by the waiter taking their orders. From there, as Bigglesworth settled a bit, they leapfrogged topics with ease. They chatted about Bigglesworth's latest case and a particular restaurant he had enjoyed in Karachi; about a free outdoor concert Erich had attended and the difficulties of getting a broken stair fixed in his building. A few minutes after their food had arrived (Bigglesworth having taken only a few bites), Erich noticed that he had gone silent, listening to Erich talk without his usual swift interjections, chin propped on his fist.
"You look tired," Erich said with affectionate indulgence.
"Mmm. I've been on the go all day. And this day started very early, in a time zone rather west of here ..." Bigglesworth smothered a yawn. "Now you have me thinking about it. I'm fine. Go on, you were saying?"
But he seemed to drift again, his eyelids dipping, half asleep as he gazed across the table as if looking at Erich was the one thing keeping him from falling asleep entirely.
Erich smiled and put down his fork and knife. "Bigglesworth, I am enjoying this meal, but I think we need to take—what's the phrase? A rain check. You would be more comfortable at home, I think."
"I don't need it. A little coffee will have me right as rain." He sat up straight, making a visible effort to wake himself up.
"Then why don't we go back to my place?" Erich suggested. "It's much nearer. We could get this wrapped up, and I'll make a pot of coffee for us." Though he doubted he'd drink any himself. He was still jangling from the two strong cups earlier.
It was not unusual for their evenings to end with a quiet cup of coffee and a lingering goodbye. In this particular case, Bigglesworth was hardly awake enough to care, Erich suspected. He had to swiftly transfer their bundled takeaway to one hand so he could take Bigglesworth by the elbow and steer him across the step down from the restaurant to the pavement, which they had both stepped over dozens of times.
"Perhaps we should get you a taxi home," Erich suggested, as Bigglesworth made a visible effort to stop drooping on him sleepily.
"Nonsense." The slight weight against Erich's arm departed abruptly as Bigglesworth straightened up again. Erich reached out to touch his arm and prevented him from running into a lamppost. Unaware of his close call, Bigglesworth said with the careful enunciation of the slightly inebriated, "I'm perfectly fine. The walk will clear my head, and as you said, coffee will help."
"I expect your pilots are already in their beds."
"I'm sure they are," Bigglesworth allowed. "Algy tried to talk me into coming back to the flat—But there's no sense in us ending the evening quite so early, is there?"
Erich's chest felt strangely warm.
Bigglesworth managed to get up the stairs under his own power. It was only when they stepped inside that he stopped abruptly and leaned against the wall. Erich, having taken off his own coat, nudged him, and Bigglesworth jolted as if coming awake, blinking rapidly. "Where—? Oh."
"My flat," Erich said, and took one sleeve, helping him off with his coat.
"Oh. Yes. Of course." Bigglesworth smothered a yawn, and once more visibly forced himself more awake, blinking. "I'm being a poor guest. Just give me a minute. You said there was coffee?"
"Yes, there will be. I need to make it." Erich guided him to the sofa, a relatively new addition to the small sitting room, taking up enough room that there was little space to move around it. "Here, lie down for a minute. I'll have it ready soon."
He went to put their leftovers in the icebox, got out the small sack of coffee, and then set it on the counter thoughtfully. He went back to see if there was any need for it at all.
There was not. Bigglesworth was fast asleep, as if he'd hardly had a chance to sink down on the sofa before he was gone. He was in the awkward position in which he had sunk down on the cushions, head turned to the side, one arm drooping off so that his hand brushed the floor.
Erich felt an almost overwhelming wave of tenderness wash through him. He went to his bedroom and fetched a blanket, and covered Bigglesworth carefully, tucking up the fallen arm and adjusting the pillows a little so he wouldn't wake up too stiff and sore.
For his own part, Erich knew would not be sleeping himself for a little while yet. He turned on his desk lamp and laid out the materials for his latest translation. As he sharpened a pencil, the soft grind of the sharpener was the only sound in the stillness, other than some street noise coming up from below and a faint, occasional snore from Bigglesworth. It was quiet and pleasant. Peaceful.
"Not bad company at all," Erich murmured. He reached over to twitch up the blanket to cover Bigglesworth's shoulder.
no subject
This is so cute and I'm glad a jetlagged!Biggles fic now exists :D I can attest that when it hits you it hits you like a very soft truck.
My favourite bit is Erich waiting up for him no matter how late, and also asking after Algy & the rest, and his warm affectionate concern through out.
I love the thought of Biggles falling asleep at Erich's place and Erich looking after him <3333
no subject
It's just SUCH a cute idea that it immediately ran away with me, and sleepy Biggles drooping but just determined to stay awake because !!!ERICH!!! does things to my heart. And yes, Erich feels just the same - he'll happily wait at the restaurant in case he gets a Biggles out of it. <3
no subject
I love the contrast between Erich’s quiet patience in the restaurant and Biggles’ likely almost frantic desire to get to the restaurant so he can see Erich. (And on Erich’s almost reflexive words that he has nowhere else to be - it’s true, but only in the sense that regardless of whatever else is happening in Erich’s life, this is Dinner With Biggles Time and he will not be anywhere else until that’s over, regardless of details like whether Biggles himself is there.)
I only just learnt last night what idfic is! I think for me, you are my idfic <3
no subject
I feel like overtired Biggles would be a little bit like a tired toddler in that way - which I don't mean as an insult, but so wound up that he's a bit hyper, and then crashing when it all hits him. But he can't miss dinner because Erich!!! And Erich is just as oriented on him, and determined to get all the Biggles time he can.
no subject
"I'm sure they are," Bigglesworth allowed. "Algy tried to talk me into coming back to the flat—But there's no sense in us ending the evening quite so early, is there?"
Erich's chest felt strangely warm.
<3333
And the second Biggles sits down he falls asleep, of course. Erich carefully tucking him in is so dear and lovely, and settling down to work with Biggles asleep there - perfect!
no subject