Blond locks
Author: wanderingsmith
Started jun 2021
Summary: "René. How do you know what is in this locket?"
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to
pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I
play with 'em..
AN: I just can't help but think it's a subject they would need
to settle, I mean, srsly...
"René."
René looked up from wiping the piano and frowned slightly at the quiet
greeting, quite unlike the man's usual provocative enthusiasm. "Are
you well, lieutenant?"
Gruber tried to smile, though it quite failed to reach his eyes even as he
approached -without his usual gleeful skip, but why was René *worried*??-.
He had one hand in a pocket, seemingly fiddling with something; which
normally would have raised René's suspicions, except that the sad, glum look
the lieutenant wore did not seem to herald the start of another wild scheme.
Finally he pulled his hand out, meeting René's eyes with a strange, distant
sadness, "The general is insisting on a formal meal for all the officers; I
had to reach for the full-sized medals to go with formal dress," he opened
his palm, displaying a familiar locket, "I found this with them."
René smiled, "Ah yes, your friend with the golden locks."
Gruber nodded, "Yes-" and then René realized his mistake as the man's eyes
flew back to him and widened, "But- I did not- Did René-"
René swore under his breath and grabbed the man's forearm, hissing, "Not
here," and hustling him to the back room.
"René??"
René wished he'd thought to pour them both something stiff. He waited until
the door closed behind the lieutenant, and then made himself swallow and
think how to answer the confused frown Gruber was giving him.
"René. How do you know what is in this locket?"
René winced at the uncharacteristically firm tone, "Ah. You see-" he
couldn't help but think of the several times that Gruber had been visibly
shaken by the memory of René's death, wondering if he should try to go over
all that had been happening, at the time; most of which he did not think the
lieutenant had been aware of. No. He did not think this sadly worried man
cared about paintings, right now. "The colonel and captain Geering changed
the bullets of your men for wooden ones, *that day*." Um. Well. That was
perhaps not as clear as he had hoped.
But it seemed 'that day' did weigh on the man's mind, enough for him to make
the connections, for Gruber froze for several moments. Then his lips parted
on something that wavered between shock and joy and he very quickly stepped
up to René, seeming to barely stop himself from grabbing onto him, and René
made himself stand still -Gruber of all people was not about to attack
*him*-, "René?? You are-"
René nodded, finding himself using a soothing tone in response to that
warbling breathlessness, "I have always been, the only René Artois."
Gruber made a strangled sound and obviously lost the fight with himself,
arms flying to grip René's shoulders as his head dropped to René's neck.
"René! I-"
Feeling Gruber's hand claw into his shoulder in fitful jerks, René patted
gently at his back. "I suppose I should have told you, but it all became
such a tangle, and von Klinkerhoffen and Herr Flick always watching..."
Gruber shook his head, not raising it from René's shoulder, "No. I
understand. I-" René winced, knowing he would have deep bruises on his
shoulder and side from those clenching fingers, but unable to complain as he
felt the lieutenant shudder with some deep emotion, "I- am so *happy* that
you are alive, I-" except that sounded rather like a choked sob, to René,
and he raised a hand without thinking, petting the slick of soft hair at the
back of Gruber's head as his other hand ran a reassuring path up and down
his back.
After a minute or so, the fingers bruising him finally eased their grip, and
René breathed easier, though Gruber did not move away, still sometimes
tensing through shaky breaths, and René was in too good a mood, today, to
push him off. The lieutenant had taken risks more than once since that day
to protect René. And anyway, now that he wasn't trying to rip René's muscles
out, he wasn't an unpleasant armful to cuddle. The chemical-soaked uniform
wasn't the nicest material to smooth, but it wasn't the worst he'd dealt
with.
"I-" the warm breath on his neck wasn't unpleasant, no, but.. it was a
little .. disturbing, in consideration of who was doing it -and the
reaction it caused!- "I know it does not change that I gave the order.
But- to know that you live. And- that you have..." René had to tip his head
back quickly when Gruber suddenly raised his face, though he was glad to see
the man had not been crying -he always had a very hard time resisting
tears-, "You-" the lieutenant's breath stuttered, his fingers
tightening again as an almost desperate expression crossed his face, "You do
forgive me, do you not? You always said you did, as your brother, but-"
"Lieutenant!" René quickly interrupted, "I forgive you," he shook his head,
wondering when his arms had wrapped around the man's waist, "I did not blame
you. I am aware you were ordered to shoot me. We have all done things
because we must to survive."
Gruber tried to speak, staring at René as though searching for some answer
that René could not guess, but finally leaned back to what he had apparently
decided was his spot on René's shoulder instead.
Since petting did not seem enough to make the man relax, René finally tried
to lighten the mood, "You were mentioning your locket? Did you hear
from your friend?"
Gruber at first just nodded against him, but then René felt his chest expand
against him on a deep breath, though he showed no inclination to straighten
out of.. well.. it could only be called an embrace. Though for once René did
not feel the man was in any way trying for a 'touch up'.
"No, we have not spoken in years. I was going to tell you- your brother...
you," he sighed, and René was glad that this time the emotion only tightened
his hug a bearable bit, "That the locket now reminded me of you. You were
one of the first people, after my transfer here, who was... friendly."
René frowned to himself, absently returning to running a soothing stroke up
and down the man's back, trying to remember their first meeting without the
perspective of his own troubles.
"After the last commander I had, after the front... You made me feel
that I could- perhaps begin to... be myself again.. At least
sometimes." René's grip tightened as he felt Gruber tense again, "When- when
they- ordered me-"
René interrupted, if softly, to avoid returning to that hopeless subject,
"Hush, now. No harm came of it. We must all go on."
Gruber nodded jerkily against him, his breathing still a bit too quick, but
not so far gone as it had got on the first shock. Finally allowing
René's touch to calm him, perhaps... "That was why I hid it. It got so I
could not bear to think of those first days anymore. I tried to honour his-
your- memory as best I could. By being myself again. By helping
you, when I can."
René nodded, not having noticed when he'd leaned his head against the
lieutenant's until he felt soft hair on his chin, "And I am grateful for
that help." He was not certain he could choke out any gratitude that
he'd been the reason the lieutenant felt free to flirt with him quite so
forcefully. Not that he truly minded, mostly; his ego had always been fond
of stroking, even by those from whom he would 'get' no more. And the
lieutenant did not take it ill when René did not respond in kind.
Gruber was still tensing periodically when René heard steps approach the
door. He didn't have time to warn the man in his arms before Edith barged
in, no doubt expecting to find him with Yvette.
"RENÉ! What are you doing with that g-"
René smiled wryly at her over Gruber's shoulder as the man jerked his head
up and around. Unlike Yvette, Gruber didn't jump away from him
guiltily, even going so far as to give Edith a wounded look that actually
made her turn apologetic.
"Oh! I'm so sorry I-" René had only had the faintest hope that she would
actually talk herself back out, so he was less than surprised when her frown
came right back, "But why-"
René bestirred himself to protect yet another person from his wife, "You
foolish woman! Can you not see the lieutenant received some distressing news
about his friend??" as he saw her start to waver, he brought an arm up to
wrap around Gruber's shoulders, automatically shifting himself into the
lieutenant's returning weight, though the man kept up his -almost
jealous, oh dear- glare toward Edith, "He can hardly get consolation
from his men, now *can* he?"
"No.. no, of course," she smiled stiffly at Gruber, "René is very good at
comforting. I am sorry about your news, lieutenant."
René smirked as she turned back out the door.
Gruber was still staring at the closed door when René felt him tense and
turn to him, looking as though some further sad realization had just come to
him, "If you are René..." he glanced slowly back at the door, his shoulders
drooping under René's arm as his voice faded to a murmur, "Then she is..."
Gruber's eyes met his wistfully, "Your wife."
René grimaced, faintly aware it might make things simpler to let the man
think so, "Well, that is a bit of a muddle too. Since I am officially
dead, and cannot claim otherwise so long as you Germans remain here, if I do
not want to risk simply being executed 'again'..." he shrugged.
Gruber nodded sadly, "Which is why you were going to re-marry."
René rolled his eyes, muttering, "Since I am dead, she owns the café:
everything I have worked for..."
Gruber nodded understanding, his forgotten grip on René changing to
consoling pats... followed with Gruber settling back.. into his arms...
Well, what the 'eck, René let himself relax, tipping his head back down with
a silent sigh, Edith had given her tacit permission, after all. And a
cuddle *was*, it turned out, a cuddle. If he closed his eyes, he could
ignore the diesel and pretend there was only Lilly of the Valley coming from
his armful of muscles. That was better than he could say about
Denise...
Sequel: Birthday
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