Intro and Fanfic
All right... time to pop the fic cherry. I started reading this series just after Christmas on recommendation from a friend, who I will forever be indebted to. I'm already halfway through book 4 and ridiculously into it. This probably isn't what you were expected from fanfic from this series. It isn't in the least canon and is probably more crack than anything, but I couldn't get the scene out of my head, so I wrote it.
Title: Of Fear and Duty Pairing: Granby/Laurence Words: 1068 Rating: NC-17 Warnings: Frottage. A/N: Takes place after the opening scene of Book 3 Black Powder War. Disclaimer: They're not mine. I didn't make money off this garbage. Don't sue. I know. I'm on crack. If you don't like slash... don't read it.
The acrid smoke of the fire aboard the Allegiance clung to Laurence's undershirt, his hair, his breeches, even though he had cleaned up before attending dinner with the commissioners of the East India Company. The smell seemed to seep out from him, clinging to him like a swarm of bees around their hive. He was bone-weary and could only think of rest. He collapsed into his cot, yawning deeply.
"Laurence? Uh, sir?" Granby asked softly as he entered the room.
Laurence grimaced, sitting up to face his First Lieutenant. "What is it, John?" he asked wearily.
There was a long, uncertain pause. "I just came to see if you needed anything."
"Sleep," Laurence replied honestly, letting his mask fall. Granby crossed to him, almost timidly, sat on the bed next to him. Laurence stiffened. He knew the Corps was a lot more relaxed concerning protocol; aviators were as a group more open, more free to interact, in spite of rank, but he was a Navy man, and this came dangerously close to crossing the line of propriety.
"You... you can't do anything like that again," Granby said after a long pause. "You scared me, Laurence. You scared us all."
Laurence looked up, knitting his eyebrows together. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he replied, leaning closer. "You can't do anything like that again."
Laurence wasn't sure what was happening until it was too late. Granby pulled Laurence in for a passionate kiss, his fingers tangling in his superior officer's hair. Laurence pulled away, shocked and sputtering a bit. "John... we...."
"I thought I lost you," Granby cut him off. "Don't you dare scare me like that again, Will."
Laurence was speechless, both at the fact Granby had just kissed him so passionately, and at the fact the younger aviator who had been so rude to him when he'd first arrived at Dover was scared to lose him. Truly, he was most speechless because he'd just been kissed by a man.
Granby leaned back in, initiating the kiss again, and Laurence felt his mouth open allowing Granby's tongue entrance. His brain seemed to stop, his weary body falling pliant to Granby slowly lowering him to the bed, kissing his neck. His body was responding to the feel of another on top of him. The blood was pooling to his lower half, his hands sliding down Granby's muscular back, and then, he was pressing up, the two of them grinding together.
He gasped, biting into his lip to fight back the moan. He was so hot, it was hard to breathe, and he was panting. THEY were panting, each shallow breath stealing air from the other man. He gripped Granby's firm, muscular arse, and pulled him closer, thrusting desperately.
"Will," he heard the strangled grasp, felt Jon's teeth on his ear, and the boy began shaking against him. It was a decadent feeling, sending pleasure through his system as he pressed against the hard, shuddering body on top of him. He groaned deeply, felt his muscles tighten, and suddenly he was spilling over the edge into the world of sin, finding his release.
He collapsed against the cot, panting, sweaty, sticky, and ashamed – but he didn't want to think about it just, yet. He let his arms relax around Granby, as the boy laid his head tenderly on Laurence's chest. They lay there for a long time, their breathing accompanied only by the sound of the crickets outside. Will cleared his throat.
"John, that..." he stopped short, not knowing what to say or precisely how to say it, "that mustn't happen again. It's not... appropriate."
Granby tensed in his arms and pulled back, gazing down at him. "Mmmm... I see," he replied darkly. There was a moment of hesitation as if he were attempting to determine the correct way to react. After a moment he laid back down. The silence filled the room again.
Laurence listened to Granby's breaths fall into a regular pattern. He was almost certain he was asleep, but then he heard him whisper. "Sometimes, Will, you have far too much Navy in you."
Laurence tensed and sat up, pushing Granby off of him. "By God, John, you go too far."
"Do I?" Granby asked, suddenly more awake than he had been before. "You... you... are completely and totally stuck on propriety; on how things are supposed to be done. You have this false sense of honour and duty, and still, you are seeking glory, naught more than glory. Why do you seek glory when you know that anyone outside of the Corps hates us? We don't receive nearly the amount of prize money. We don't have half the respect..." He cut himself short, obviously deciding to change the course of his argument. He stood and began to pace. "And this sense of duty you so proudly claim to have? To whom do you owe this duty? Yourself? Your family? It certainly isn't Temeraire. You've nearly died four... or is it five... times since our first engagement. Have you thought what it would do to him if you ran off haphazard to do your duty and get yourself killed? Or do you care? The Corps has rules for a reason. To protect you and to protect your dragon. He loves you. He couldn't live without you..."
Laurence was stunned, unable to follow where this was coming from. He held up his hand. "Lieutenant Granby, hold your tongue. Do not begin to tell me my duty. Do not dare to tell me where my heart lies. Do you think Temeraire would rather watch his crew go to their death while we sit idly by and do nothing to help? Though he would miss me, he would certainly be happier if I died doing my duty than if I lived being a coward. Now, tell me, were you speaking of Temeraire just then, or of yourself?"
Granby inhaled sharply, going pale, even in the reddish rice paper lantern light. "I said what I mean, sir," he replied. "And now I shall take my leave, if I have your permission, Captain."
Laurence could detect some of the old venom in his reply, the emphasis on 'sir' and 'Captain' coming off far more sarcastic than it had in a long time. "Go," Laurence replied darkly, "but realise this is far from over."