[Fic] that which soars in the night sky (The Attic - A.M. Burrage)
- Fandom: The Attic - A.M. Burrage
- Pairing: Stanley Forbes/Derek Wilson
- Tags: Fake Marriage - Amnesia Makes Characters (Erroneously) Assume They’re Married, Amnesia, One Shot, Hurt/Comfort
- Word-Count: 1730
- Status: Complete
- First Published: 2024-07-22
- Disclaimer: I do not own The Attic and make no profit from this—it is solely a hobby for fun, with no financial compensation.
Summary:
"You are my husband, then, I suppose?"
Notes:
- For SweetSorcery.
Work Text:
"You are my husband, then, I suppose?" the young man---pretty and dark and tall and with the kind of youthful looks that nearly inspired jealousy---said to a man newly revealed to be called Stanley Forbes, according to the chap Raymond Telford that claimed them to be the closest of friends. Forbes rather thought this was not strictly true; not an outright falsehood, he suspected, but certainly it must be an exaggeration of sorts; for while he did not dislike Telford, he could not quite shake a certain moroseness when he thought of the man, a certain kind of disappointment he suspected was long since carved into the stone of his being.
The young man was Derek Wilson, brother-in-law of Telford, and they had been staring at each other since they woke up together in the backyard of this old house---the Moat House, Telford called it.
"I must suppose so, indeed," said Forbes, the sensation of his heart thumping loud against his ribcage. He looked at Derek and knew only fondness, and a kind of awe; the certain knowledge, perhaps, that Derek was a person whom he admired and respected, and whom he should be lucky to know. Much less be married to.
Derek smiled; an extraordinarily beautiful smile, that lit up his whole expression, and Forbes' heart skipped a beat. He pressed a hand to his aching chest, and entirely forgot to be couth about the motion; Derek noticed, and laughed. That, too, was a beautiful thing from him, and Forbes' heart tripped and shuddered in his chest, restarting its beating at a truly ferocious pace.
"You are not married," Gladys Telford declared, as she entered the room carrying a tray of drinks and food. She frowned in worry, but she smiled slightly at Derek's noise of despair, though in truth Forbes felt much the same. Surely, he thought, she must be joking? She must be having them on, taking the opportunity to play with their emotions, perhaps as a way to bring some levy to the seriousness of the situation.
Forbes did not much appreciate it, unfortunately. He saw no doubt that he and Derek were married; for his heart skipped a beat again when he made eye contact with the handsome chap, and he could not help but smile at him.
"A most cruel joke, sister," said Derek, dragging out the word sister in a rather peculiar way. An attempt to find a commonality with it, Forbes thought. To force himself to be familiar with it. "Of course, we are married," Derek then said. "For I love him, so we must be married."
"Love?" said Gladys, and nearly fainted. She looked between Forbes and Derek, then, and gulped. Putting the tray down on the low table before the sofa, she rose and brushed her hands on her dress. "You are not married, old thing," she told Derek, "But I will leave you to your conversation. Remember, the doctor said your memory ought to come back on its own soon. Within a matter of days, even. So you ought not to say something you should regret." And she leveled Derek with a rather serious gaze that Forbes could not read, but rather thought he might be able to discern the meaning of, regardless.
She did not want her younger brother, amnesiac no less, to be hurt, of course. Forbes did not want Derek to be hurt, either. They had only really known each other for a handful of hours, but he should be quite clear on this; he did not want to hurt Derek. He ached at just the mere thought, and he frowned at his lap. "What's wrong, old chap?" asked Derek, leaning forth and looking at Forbes with a deep, searching gaze.
"I love you," said Forbes.
Derek stared at him, breathless for a moment, then a great big blush took over his face and he laughed in delight. "I should think that that's not what's wrong," he said between his good humor, eyes sparkling in the low firelight.
"Most assuredly not," exclaimed Forbes, and cleared his throat in a somewhat awkward manner. "Only. Well, I fear if your sister is right and we are indeed not..."
"Then we need only get married anew," stated Derek, and certainly there was no doubt in neither his voice nor his expression. He reached out a hand, and Forbes of course grabbed it; Derek's hand was warm in his, calloused and gentle, his nails expertly cut and just the faintest dusting of hair beginning on the edge of his wrist as the sleeve rode up his arm somewhat.
Forbes wetted his lips, and could for a moment not think of a single sensible thing to say.
"Then so we shall," agreed Forbes, the capacity for thought returning to him. Derek's grin grew, and Forbes could naught but laugh in response, a bright, fierce heat spinning through him like an avalanche. He was at once utterly unable to resist it, and capable of acknowledging this must be what falling in love felt like.
"Come, join me in the garden," said Forbes, rising and pulling Derek up with him. They were almost of a height, and like this he could gaze right into Derek's hot eyes, could feel the burn of their eye contact in the pit of his belly. He quivered, somewhat, legs unsteady below him before he locked his knees and they regained coherency. Wetting his lips, he raised an eyebrow, and and squeezed Derek's hand in silent question.
Derek's gaze grew hotter, still. He nodded, "Of course." But he was still for a moment too long, gaze drifting to the floor, and Forbes felt a tightness swell in his throat. "But Gladys, my sister-"
"Surely, she would have told us had there been any danger in the garden," pointed Forbes out, and Derek looked up at him again, smiling and tilting his head. Forbes could not stop himself from attempting to reassure further, "They have said nothing about staying still, and if we, oh, I don't know, if we met a bear or something in there they surely must tell us. So it should be quite fine, indeed."
"You are right, of course," said Derek, and leaned in and rested his head upon Forbes' shoulder. Forbes held his breath, could do naught but stand still and stare at the crown of Derek's dark hair, mouth dry and lips parting. He ached, suddenly, for a different kind of touch. But he could certainly not ask for it, he told himself. If Gladys was right and they were not married, it would be the height of cruelty. It would be a play on both of them.
Derek's hand rested upon Forbes' chest, and wrinkled the fabric of his suit. Not a speck of Forbes minded this; rather, truth be told, he wanted Derek to get in closer, to wrinkle more clothing with his touch, to hold onto him and not let go.
"It will be fine, you'll see, old chap," said Forbes into Derek's hair, and could not account for the reason his voice softened so. He cleared it with a gentle cough, trying not to disturb Derek, but the young man drew back regardless, nodded, and wiped his eyes.
"Thank you, old chap," said Derek, and smiled at Forbes. Forbes rested his hand on Derek's shoulder, and together they went out to the garden through the back door. It was truly a grisly garden, Forbes thought when he saw it for the second time he remembered. Nobody must have cared for it in quite a while.
Exhaling, Derek looked it over as Forbes looked over Derek. Derek's fists were clenched tight, and his face whitened the moment they stepped out. "I don't like this place," said Derek, and Forbes could plainly see the truth of it.
"Then we would not be here a moment longer," Forbes said, and pulled Derek, slightly shaking as he was, back into the house. Gladys stood in the hall just inside, and frowned at them, disapproval simmering, and Forbes was forced to admit the truth. The romantic notion of looking at flowers with his lover, his husband, had overcome him, but this was neither the time nor place, and in reality, it had merely hurt Derek. Forbes nodded at her, expression serious, and hoped she could in some way sense his apology. "Come," he murmured to Derek, returning them to the sitting room.
Derek went with him without struggle, and they sat again on the couch. Forbes picked up a cup of tea, still steaming, and handed it to Derek, watching him closely to determine his health. At last, after drinking most of the tea and smacking his lips in quiet pleasure, Derek rested his head on Forbers' shoulder again. They leaned back against the couch and turned toward each other, and Forbes shut his eyes, listening to the sound of Derek's steady, slow breathing. Drowned in it, truly.
It would not be such a bad way to go, he rather thought. To be with Derek till his final days, to spend their lives together.
Forbes hoped, with everything in him, that they were married. As he held Derek closed and breathed him in, he wished for nothing more than to be together as long as they existed. And if they were not? If Gladys was right?
Of course, they should simply get married anew.
Derek made a mottled sound in the back of his throat and drew Forbes' attention in like a moth to a flame, and Forbes made what he hoped was a comforting noise in turn. "Everything will be alright," he murmured into Derek's hair, and Derek was a heavy weight in his arms, the most solid thing in the world right now. "I'm with you, no matter what."
He heard no reply, but he thought he felt Derek say the same against the skin of his neck, thought he felt the flutter of warm air over his pulse. And so he ducked his head, rested it against Derek's, and together they breathed as the clock continued ticking in the corner, as the sunshine shifted shape through the windows and the shadows moved over the floors. The firelight went down, and then up again when a servant quickly bustled in and out.
Until nightfall, Forbes did not let go.