[fic] Burning 1/2 (Algy/Biggles)
May. 20th, 2013 11:06 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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biggles_slash_archiveSo, I'm here with the promised fic, well, half of it.
It is the first half of a third part of my Spitfire Parade mini-series that started in ‘Hit and Miss’, and continued in ‘Why so Grim?’. If you haven’t read those before, it would be good to read them first, so you would know what was happening. And if you did read them, you might want to revise, because it’s been a long time since. It’s unbetaread, so if you spot any major errors please tell me.
Also, this half is something of a fluffy interlude, so if you take your tea or coffee with it, don’t put much sugar in it, there’s plenty in the story. Oh, well, here goes.
Title: Burning 1/2
Pairing: Biggles/Algy (est)
Rating: PG-13 possibly, but definitely James-rated
Summary: The preoccupation seems to be contagious.
“You’re still here?”
Biggles raised his eyes from the numerous sheets of paper on his desk to see Algy peeking through the half opened door into his office.
“I have to finish it,” was his plain answer. In spite of what he had just said Biggles stopped writing and put his pen down with a sigh. Algy entered and closed the door behind him. He approached the desk with a sad smile. Biggles’ tired eyes were on him the whole time. Algy didn’t stop to sit down opposite to the CO, but stepped behind his chair and put his hand on Biggles’ shoulder.
“I thought you would be practising on piano with Bertie.”
“No. Not tonight,” said Algy with a touch of bitterness. It was either too well concealed or Biggles’ senses were too fatigued for he didn’t react to it.
Biggles murmured something unintelligible, rubbed his eyes and yawned mightily. He then relaxed into the chair and rested the back of his head on Algy’s abdomen with a contented sigh. Algy laid his free hand on Biggles’ forehead and stroked his hair away. Biggles closed his eyes, his body going still. He then reached his hand and laid it atop Algy’s resting on his shoulder. Algy’s hand felt pleasantly cold on his forehead.
Algy kept stroking his hair. “You should get some rest,” he said quietly.
“These reports won’t finish themselves on their own.”
“No, they won’t. I will do it.”
Biggles partly turned and partly tilted his head back to look Algy in the face.
“I shouldn’t let my subordinates do my work,” Biggles said in a much lighter tone.
“But you could let your friend help you with it. Pack up, you’re barely conscious.”
Biggles sat for a while in silence looking at the papers on his desk grumpily.
“Dash it, James. Go to sleep. It won’t take me long.” Algy leaned forward so his lips were nearly touching Biggles’ slightly tousled hair. “When I’m finished with it, I will come to check on you? What about it?” he whispered.
Biggles hummed. He nodded, once, twice.
“Off you go then,” Algy smiled.
***
It was nearly eleven when Algy laid aside the last finished report, switched off the lights, left the office and headed for the officers quarters. He fetched his toilet bag and towel from his room and made for the bathroom. Dressed in his pyjamas and with his uniform folded over his arm, he headed back to his room, but didn’t stay there long. Soon he emerged with nothing in his hands, stepped to the door opposite to his and looked around. There was nobody in sight. His fellow pilots were either already sleeping or still sitting in the mess.
He knocked lightly on the door. There was no response. Not that he had expected any. He entered, closed the door quietly and turned the key in the lock.
The room was completely dark due to the blackout curtains. The only sound he could perceive was the rustle of even breathing. He was standing by the door for a little while to get accustomed to the darkness but soon he stepped into the room to find the bed by memory.
A half of a quickly hushed curse escaped his lips when he tripped and almost fell over discarded shoes. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. Just a bit too eager, aren’t we...
Algy finally found his way by touch alone and sat down on the edge of the bed. Biggles’ room was one of the few that had real beds and not bunks. This bed was a part of the original equipment of the farmhouse, which served as the officers quarters.
He put out his hand and felt around. First thing he came upon was the rough fabric of a discarded uniform jacket. Then he touched a small warm hand resting limply on the blanket. A cuff, a sleeve and a tie. Chest raising and falling in the rhythm of deep breaths. He put out his other hand and touched Biggles’ tousled hair. He stroked it and then caressed his face.
“James, you can’t sleep in your uniform,” Algy whispered and planted a little kiss to the corner of a slightly opened mouth.
He reached to loosen the tie and undo the buttons of Biggles’ shirt. Biggles stirred and sighed. Algy continued with removing the tie and loosening the belt buckle. Biggles stirred again and opened his eyes to see darkness and feel gentle hands slowly undressing him. He made a sleepy attempt to help with removing the remnants of his uniform off his person. After some more pulling he was down to his underwear. He kicked away the blankets on which he had been lying before and climbed under them making space for Algy on his left.
“What about your pyjamas?” he heard Algy chuckle.
“It’s somewhere around here but I don’t feel like looking for it,” he muttered. “Do you?”
Algy chuckled some more but didn’t ask any more questions and slipped under the blanket.
***
Biggles finished putting his uniform on a hanger. Algy groped around in the feeble light of the bedside lamp and found a part of pyjamas with stripes of another colour than he remembered putting on yesterday. Not surprisingly it matched the pyjama trousers Biggles had already on.
Biggles put down a clothes brush and held out his hand. “Give it here.”
Algy looked suspiciously on the floor. “Where the deuce is mine?”
“How should I know?”
“You should,” Algy grinned impishly.
Biggles stepped towards the bed. He reached for the offered part of his night garment but didn’t let go of Algy’s hand afterward. Instead he brought it to his lips. He bent and with his free hand reached under the pillow behind Algy’s back.
“Oh hello, there it is!” exclaimed Algy with mock surprise when his pyjamas landed in front of him.
“Don’t try this on me,” laughed James. He then bent forward again to steal one last proper kiss. “We have to go now.”
“I know,” sighed Algy and started dressing into his pyjamas.
Biggles unlocked the door, opened it, and looked up and down the corridor.
“All clear.”
“See you at breakfast,” said Algy with a smile and disappeared into his own room.
***
He was avoiding him. The day before. The whole day. Bertie had been avoiding him, averting his eyes whenever they met. That was exactly what Algy didn’t want to happen. He lived through one such situation already, and it was nothing he wanted to experience again. The awkwardness, unease and the fear. If something happened to Bertie now... He knew well enough that flying with preoccupied mind was no good. What was equally as bad was the fact that this kind of preoccupation tended to be contagious.
“Algy, have I done anything to make you upset?” came a question from across the table. Such question, so much like James.
“No, you haven’t.”
Maybe he put too much emphasis on that one word.
“Who, then?” asked Biggles lightly.
Algy sneered. “Mr. Hitler,” he laughed bitterly, downed his tea, and left the mess to spare himself more questions. He was just about to light a cigarette when the siren started wailing.
"Scramble!"
It is the first half of a third part of my Spitfire Parade mini-series that started in ‘Hit and Miss’, and continued in ‘Why so Grim?’. If you haven’t read those before, it would be good to read them first, so you would know what was happening. And if you did read them, you might want to revise, because it’s been a long time since. It’s unbetaread, so if you spot any major errors please tell me.
Also, this half is something of a fluffy interlude, so if you take your tea or coffee with it, don’t put much sugar in it, there’s plenty in the story. Oh, well, here goes.
Title: Burning 1/2
Pairing: Biggles/Algy (est)
Rating: PG-13 possibly, but definitely James-rated
Summary: The preoccupation seems to be contagious.
“You’re still here?”
Biggles raised his eyes from the numerous sheets of paper on his desk to see Algy peeking through the half opened door into his office.
“I have to finish it,” was his plain answer. In spite of what he had just said Biggles stopped writing and put his pen down with a sigh. Algy entered and closed the door behind him. He approached the desk with a sad smile. Biggles’ tired eyes were on him the whole time. Algy didn’t stop to sit down opposite to the CO, but stepped behind his chair and put his hand on Biggles’ shoulder.
“I thought you would be practising on piano with Bertie.”
“No. Not tonight,” said Algy with a touch of bitterness. It was either too well concealed or Biggles’ senses were too fatigued for he didn’t react to it.
Biggles murmured something unintelligible, rubbed his eyes and yawned mightily. He then relaxed into the chair and rested the back of his head on Algy’s abdomen with a contented sigh. Algy laid his free hand on Biggles’ forehead and stroked his hair away. Biggles closed his eyes, his body going still. He then reached his hand and laid it atop Algy’s resting on his shoulder. Algy’s hand felt pleasantly cold on his forehead.
Algy kept stroking his hair. “You should get some rest,” he said quietly.
“These reports won’t finish themselves on their own.”
“No, they won’t. I will do it.”
Biggles partly turned and partly tilted his head back to look Algy in the face.
“I shouldn’t let my subordinates do my work,” Biggles said in a much lighter tone.
“But you could let your friend help you with it. Pack up, you’re barely conscious.”
Biggles sat for a while in silence looking at the papers on his desk grumpily.
“Dash it, James. Go to sleep. It won’t take me long.” Algy leaned forward so his lips were nearly touching Biggles’ slightly tousled hair. “When I’m finished with it, I will come to check on you? What about it?” he whispered.
Biggles hummed. He nodded, once, twice.
“Off you go then,” Algy smiled.
***
It was nearly eleven when Algy laid aside the last finished report, switched off the lights, left the office and headed for the officers quarters. He fetched his toilet bag and towel from his room and made for the bathroom. Dressed in his pyjamas and with his uniform folded over his arm, he headed back to his room, but didn’t stay there long. Soon he emerged with nothing in his hands, stepped to the door opposite to his and looked around. There was nobody in sight. His fellow pilots were either already sleeping or still sitting in the mess.
He knocked lightly on the door. There was no response. Not that he had expected any. He entered, closed the door quietly and turned the key in the lock.
The room was completely dark due to the blackout curtains. The only sound he could perceive was the rustle of even breathing. He was standing by the door for a little while to get accustomed to the darkness but soon he stepped into the room to find the bed by memory.
A half of a quickly hushed curse escaped his lips when he tripped and almost fell over discarded shoes. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. Just a bit too eager, aren’t we...
Algy finally found his way by touch alone and sat down on the edge of the bed. Biggles’ room was one of the few that had real beds and not bunks. This bed was a part of the original equipment of the farmhouse, which served as the officers quarters.
He put out his hand and felt around. First thing he came upon was the rough fabric of a discarded uniform jacket. Then he touched a small warm hand resting limply on the blanket. A cuff, a sleeve and a tie. Chest raising and falling in the rhythm of deep breaths. He put out his other hand and touched Biggles’ tousled hair. He stroked it and then caressed his face.
“James, you can’t sleep in your uniform,” Algy whispered and planted a little kiss to the corner of a slightly opened mouth.
He reached to loosen the tie and undo the buttons of Biggles’ shirt. Biggles stirred and sighed. Algy continued with removing the tie and loosening the belt buckle. Biggles stirred again and opened his eyes to see darkness and feel gentle hands slowly undressing him. He made a sleepy attempt to help with removing the remnants of his uniform off his person. After some more pulling he was down to his underwear. He kicked away the blankets on which he had been lying before and climbed under them making space for Algy on his left.
“What about your pyjamas?” he heard Algy chuckle.
“It’s somewhere around here but I don’t feel like looking for it,” he muttered. “Do you?”
Algy chuckled some more but didn’t ask any more questions and slipped under the blanket.
***
Biggles finished putting his uniform on a hanger. Algy groped around in the feeble light of the bedside lamp and found a part of pyjamas with stripes of another colour than he remembered putting on yesterday. Not surprisingly it matched the pyjama trousers Biggles had already on.
Biggles put down a clothes brush and held out his hand. “Give it here.”
Algy looked suspiciously on the floor. “Where the deuce is mine?”
“How should I know?”
“You should,” Algy grinned impishly.
Biggles stepped towards the bed. He reached for the offered part of his night garment but didn’t let go of Algy’s hand afterward. Instead he brought it to his lips. He bent and with his free hand reached under the pillow behind Algy’s back.
“Oh hello, there it is!” exclaimed Algy with mock surprise when his pyjamas landed in front of him.
“Don’t try this on me,” laughed James. He then bent forward again to steal one last proper kiss. “We have to go now.”
“I know,” sighed Algy and started dressing into his pyjamas.
Biggles unlocked the door, opened it, and looked up and down the corridor.
“All clear.”
“See you at breakfast,” said Algy with a smile and disappeared into his own room.
***
He was avoiding him. The day before. The whole day. Bertie had been avoiding him, averting his eyes whenever they met. That was exactly what Algy didn’t want to happen. He lived through one such situation already, and it was nothing he wanted to experience again. The awkwardness, unease and the fear. If something happened to Bertie now... He knew well enough that flying with preoccupied mind was no good. What was equally as bad was the fact that this kind of preoccupation tended to be contagious.
“Algy, have I done anything to make you upset?” came a question from across the table. Such question, so much like James.
“No, you haven’t.”
Maybe he put too much emphasis on that one word.
“Who, then?” asked Biggles lightly.
Algy sneered. “Mr. Hitler,” he laughed bitterly, downed his tea, and left the mess to spare himself more questions. He was just about to light a cigarette when the siren started wailing.
"Scramble!"
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no subject
Date: 2013-05-20 10:57 pm (UTC)I really enjoyed this! (I say that all the time I think but it's been so LONG) They're very in character and I enjoyed seeing Biggles tiredness instead of his grouchy normal self. I still feel a bit bad for Bertie though and of course for Algy, who is simply far too easy to give difficult situations to. Thank you for a new story =)
no subject
Date: 2013-05-28 09:07 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed the fic :) I'm afraid I will let Bertie and Algy suffer a bit more in the next part.
But, I happened to read the old comments to 'Why so grim?', and Calliope mentioned something about being sorry that Algy turned Bertie down... and I thought, what if he wouldn't have, and a bunny started nagging at me... :D