Double cognac
Author: wanderingsmith
Started june 2021 - latest update dec 2021
Summary: The evening had started out as most did: bad wine
listening to the colonel gripe about the latest thievery by the
Resistance, followed with a nice cognac watching René rush around the
café. Unfortunately, this was *not* followed with one of the better
evenings, when René would finally have time to stand at the bar for a
bit, and Gruber could join him for a chat.
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: Oh the paths one finds to 'new' 'ships.....
this ridiculous ship has been kind enough to take over my brain for the
last 2-3 weeks and save it from stressfull RL, to the point of
almost 30k words waiting to be in a state to post... tese
particular words kept me from screaming over stupid windows10 and
uncooperative GLs......
It has not been betaed
Goto Chapter 2
The evening had started out as most did: bad wine while listening to the
colonel gripe about the latest thievery by the Résistance, followed with a
nice cognac watching René rush around the café. Unfortunately, this was
*not* followed with one of the better end of evening, when René would
finally have time to stand at the bar for a bit, and Gruber could join him
for a *chat*. Instead, an excess of French girls seemed to flood the
café, all in trench coats and white socks, and when the colonel tried to
inveigle René into a new scheme to reclaim the Fallen Madonna, one of the
girls started to harangue poor René in an undertone; and then the town's
idiot policeman, who somehow could not even speak French, marched in and
added to the confusion.
Gruber, sitting at the table nearest the bar, frowned into his drink,
wishing he could help. Whatever the girl wanted, Madame Edith apparently
also wanted, and René's voice was getting high and loud, speaking worse
nonsense than that Crabtree -which likely meant the girl was one of the
Résistance people René could not seem to get away from-.
When Madame Edith's voice rose to an all too familiar -unnameable- note that
signaled she would either soon leave in a huff, or René would, Gruber
thoughtfully stepped to the bar where Yvette was watching the spectacle with
worried eyes, "Miss Yvette, a cognac, please," as she turned away, the
voices rose ever so slightly more and Gruber winced, "On second thought,
make that a double cognac, please."
He only had to wait a few moments after getting the glass before René threw
his hands in the air with a final loud retort about airing cupboards,
knickers, hens, and squids -poor poor, brave René- and turned his
back on the evening's adversaries and started clearing a table. Gruber
immediately walked over to him, slipping a hand to René's hip to get his
attention. "René."
"What???"
Gruber knew it was only a measure of his upset that he didn't react to
Gruber's proximity with his usual so-skittish hop, but the acceptance of his
touch still made him smile as he touched the glass to René's hand, "Here."
"Oh what a good idea." The poor man set his full tray on the table and
slugged the liquor down, then stood still, taking a very deep breath indeed
as he handed Gruber the glass, both of them ignoring the people still
grumbling nearby. And then René closed his eyes as he very slowly let it all
out. Gruber watched with a pleased smile as his shoulders visibly
relaxed. René finally opened his eyes and met Gruber's with a small
smile, "Thank you, lieutenant."
Gruber grinned, terribly pleased at René's so-rare sincere gratitude, and
René's smile got the oddest quirk before he murmured, "Oh what the 'eck."
Gruber didn't have time to ask for an explanation before René reached up and
slid his hands to Gruber's neck, high above his still-fastened collar. Shock
locked his breath as René's lips touched his, then escaped in a gasp.
René drew back slowly from the almost-chaste brush, for a moment staring
into Gruber's no-doubt wide eyes in something like surprise before Gruber
watched his gaze drop to his lips. And he would not even consider looking
away as René's mouth parted on a very quiet "Oh."
His thinking felt like a stalled tank as he waited for what would happen
next, distantly aware of the silence finally filling the room. His lips
parted when René's fingers smoothed higher, sending Gruber's hat tumbling;
and then René's lips settled back on his, large hands tipping Grubber's head
to just the right angle for René's tongue to lap into Gruber's mouth.
Gruber's mind finally caught up with the lovely dream he'd stepped into, a
happy squeal trilling at the back of his mind as he lightly took the
half-step between them and slid the hand he'd still held frozen at René's
waist down to his lower back, pressing into the deep kiss and licking
eagerly at the intruder delicately counting his teeth.
"RENÉ!"
"Lieutenant!"
"Gentlemen!"
Gruber felt the man in his arms -or should he say, in whose arms he was,
hee!- twitch slightly and tense, and he regretfully let René draw back
from him, though he did not let go, since René was not pushing him away.
He'd closed his eyes at some point, and they opened, now, wide as the grin
he felt stretching his lips as he licked the trace of cognac and.. *René*
from them. What a *lovely* dream.
René's palms slipped away with what seemed like reluctance as he stood
blinking at Gruber.
Gruber winked, only resisting doing a gleeful skip because it would
encourage René to step away sooner, "Feeling *better*?"
Admittedly, he expected René to react rather disparagingly at any such
implication, lovely dream or no, but he simply could not help giving voice
to the joy echoing through him.
He certainly did not expect for René to give a crack of so-rare laughter,
followed with a self-deprecating grin, "Yes, as a matter of fact,
lieutenant, I feel much better." Gruber swayed on his feet when the
man suddenly slid down to a crouch in front of him.
And then shook his head at himself when René stood back up brushing dust off
Gruber's hat.
"There," Gruber stood perfectly still, content to memorize every pleased
line of the man's features as René settled the hat carefully on his head,
then leaned in and pressed a very proper kiss on each of his cheeks, "Thank
you, lieutenant."
"You are-" Gruber cleared the husk out of his throat, "*Most* welcome,
René."
He wondered if he would be able to request the same reward, the next time he
had to save René's life from some scheme.
Though considering the thunderous look on Madame Edith's face, it was
possible they'd both need saving sooner rather than later. And the colonel
didn't look any too pleased, oh dear. Perhaps they should allow that idiot
policeman to arrest them. A nice private little cell might not be as
comfortable as his room at the château, but it would certainly be private.
Perfect for a chat.
Or, if he were a very lucky man indeed, perhaps they could continue *this*
conversation.
Chapter two
dec 2021
AN:Those fools up there thought God would keep that passion going, that
a ring and promises would make love last as the years reaped their toll.
But René knew better. Love might not be a circle of Hell, but it changed
and faded, no matter what one might wish today.
well, I wanted to post during the holidays... as usual, that plan has
failed.
The next bit of Lily has me muttering about it. and BeforeLily... I've
added words to several sections, but not enough to any one section to
make it ready. so. yeah.
so this, although I am far from happy with the plot, is going to have to
do!
Let's hope it's a happier new year... Though having Betty White die on
NYE... isn't a great start...
When René stepped out of the church, late for the outdoor ceremony after
staying behind to close the café so the ladies could go on ahead, he saw the
not-near-young bride -to whit, the recently widowed Mrs. Maynard the
dressmaker- standing just past the ragged stand of old trees, verdant with
all the fervour of summer, with the priest, who was already well into his
sermon, from the slumping shoulders in the crowd he could see, and the baker
'Not-near-young himself, or he'd have been sent off to die with the rest
of the young men.'
Huffing at himself for the grim thought, René started walking toward the
back of the crowd assembled amid the wind-rustled greenery, to where he
could see Yvette and Mimi standing, straightening his good black suit jacket
as he went. Halfway there he hesitated, noticing a stretch of dull grey
half-hiding under a tree at the very back. Really, it could be any of the
German officers. Yet... he still found himself veering toward him, almost
certain of who he would find.
Coming up besides the man, René shook his head at himself, discouraged at
the recognition. Though just as glad for the excuse to avoid the women who
would all be dripping sighing hints 'Outright questions, or demands for
*dates*!', in the context. Flirting or no, this was one situation
where he mostly preferred the lieutenant's company. Pretty frocks were not
worth the pouts; the man was much more good-natured about untaken offers.
He looked to where Gruber was staring, watching Mrs. soon-no-longer-Maynard
smiling helplessly at her groom, losing a good 10 years 'Perhaps it
would be better called a bad 10 years' in the doing. And the unabashed
love in that look was going to redouble the tongue-waggling this match had
caused. The utterly besotted look their old bachelor of a baker was
returning made René suspect he now knew *why* he had remained a bachelor,
poor fool.
He kept his voice low, counting on the remaining 20 feet to the silent
crowd, and the whispering leaves, to keep him from disturbing proceedings 'Or
being noticed standing with a German', "I thought you did not believe
in marriage?"
Showing no surprise at René's presence, Gruber responded just as quietly,
continuing to watch the couple up front with a soft, wistful smile,
"Marriage is a circle of Hell. Love is not."
It was odd enough not to have the man immediately turn to René to flirt, but
to see him so quiet and sad was... actually not something René could recall.
Not while talking with *him*, in any case. But René could see loneliness
hollowing his eyes as the priest declared another couple chained together in
the eyes of God. As Gruber's shoulders drooped visibly, an oddly more real
than normal giving in to emotion, René looked front to see the condemned
couple kissing, surprisingly passionately.
He turned away, and instead laid his palm on Gruber's nape, squeezing gently
above that stiff collar. Those fools up there thought God would keep that
passion going, that a ring and promises would make love last as the years
reaped their toll. But René knew better. Love might not be a circle of Hell,
but it changed and faded, no matter what one might wish today. Priorities
and beliefs changed, and every situation became an argument instead of the
laugh and kisses newlyweds insisted on entertaining all and sundry with.
When the man looked at him in surprise, René let his hand slide down to his
bicep and tugged silently. He could not offer love, temporary or otherwise.
But there were other things that kept loneliness at bay.
Effectively, the sad droop faded and Gruber gave him his half-pressed-out
smile, eyes warming as he silently followed René back toward the church, and
around, away from the cheering crowd. In the shadow of the building, well
beyond the corner from the polished old wooden doors everyone would soon be
trooping through, René touched his companion's arm again to stop him and
turn him to face the ancient stone wall, stepping in front of the lieutenant
to meet familiar amused indulgence. He had seen that look all too often as
the man stood silently by as René did things that Gruber should really be,
well, arresting him for; at best. Instead he repeatedly watched René with
barely a chide forthcoming. To say nothing of the now several times he
outright helped, at risk to himself should his unreasonable superiors, to
say nothing of the Gestapo, find out.
Not least by stepping in front of Edith, von Strohm, and Michelle, to rescue
René's frayed nerves with a stiff cognac. Between Edith's -not wrong-
accusations of cheating 'And Michelle's of collaborating! ...Also not
wrong, come to that.' and the colonel's blandishments to his courage 'Which
he kept *telling* people he did not have; why did they think accusing him
of cowardice was going to make him do things??', to have Gruber
smiling with such simple happiness from well-deserved thanks... René still
did not regret that first peck. Gruber had earned that several times over.
But the way it had made René feel... proved him right to have been so
nervous around the man all this time 'It wasn't as though getting a kiss
from a man, even on the lips, was new to him. He *was* French, after all.
And more people flirted with him than he really wanted to think of. But
Gruber...'
And yet. Giving in to the suddenly unveiled draw had felt so very good. And
watching glittering joy light up the lieutenant's usually so-controlled
features... had given him the oddest feeling.
'Better' did not come near to describing any of it.
And everyone thought he had been pretending, each thinking it was for their
benefit. The whole town 'God only knew what the Germans thought!'
apparently thought it had been a brilliant act. He had vacillated between
being relieved at the narrow escape... and worrying that Gruber also thought
that -or would hear the rumours and believe them-. Worrying! As though he...
wanted it to happen again...
Well.
He did.
He wanted to feel that rising warmth again. Wanted... to feel as though he
had made someone... simply happy. Someone he sometimes thought he could have
been friends with, in a different time. Someone he now thought might, much
to his surprise, not demand more of René than he could give. Not... want
things... that René would object to.
And with Gruber's back to the crowd, and anyone bored enough to look back,
it was unlikely they'd create another furor. A German kissing someone
unseen... would only titillate. Without the identity of the protagonists,
the town could not raise a fuss, and only other Germans were really likely
to recognize the lieutenant from behind.
The man was about to speak, likely to ask what was going on, by the
curiosity that was slowly lighting his eyes, but when René raised his hands
to Gruber's always so smooth-looking cheeks, he stilled, his lip parting on
a soft exhale, the quiet affection turning to an eager brightness in his
eyes, and that odd downward smile of his 'Like a boy with a wicked
secret' creasing the corner of his lips.
And his eyes flicked to René's mouth as his tongue peeked out and blatantly
slicked over his lips.
René was chuckling helplessly at the invitation as he tipped his head to
cover the distance between them, and touched those damp lips.
Touched easy and soft, knowing very well the lieutenant would follow his
lead. This time there was no reason for them to be interrupted. No reason to
rush as René always had to. They could stand here, pressing soft kisses on
each other, until hunger -of one kind or another- forced them apart.
He felt Gruber's large hands slip to his waist, a strangely almost familiar
warmth, even though they'd only been in this position once. As familiar as
the taste of cognac and the lieutenant's cigarettes. To say nothing of the
scent of diesel 'And a definite 'int of lily of the valley' wafting
from his skin as though they were flirting over the bar. None of which
should make him feel at ease; certainly they did not used to. But now... now
he slid his fingers further, over a slick of soft hair, his thumbs free to
smooth the freshly-shaved skin along his jaw. Now he pressed his lips,
barely kisses, sampling at lips that parted for him, trying to tempt him in
deeper, though when he refused the bait, the smile that curved them was
utterly pleased.
It was almost hypnotic to stand in their quiet moment, drifting in a warm
fog, doing nothing more than exchanging slow pecks. Warm and content. He
could feel his mouth getting swollen, in the loveliest way possible, and
sensitive, every touch feeling more intimate.
Gruber caught his upper lip in a gentle suck, though he followed it with
nothing but another soft peck. René sighed into the feeling, returning the
suck at Gruber's handily parted lower lip, fresh cognac making him want to
share a drink 'Umm, the sting of hard alcohol slipping between their
lips as they kissed, two tongues reaching for the liquid, for each other.
That would quickly lead to very different things though.'
This. This did not. Even with both their mouths parted now, it was too
pleasant to kiss slowly. The hunger for more was there, but distant and
smoky. Even when Gruber tipped his head to press their open mouths together,
and licked, it was still slow, and soft. Utterly undemanding.
^
Mimi was bored. These people were still mostly all strangers. And not the
friendliest bunch she'd come across in her time. Vaguely wondering why René
had never shown up, she glanced back at the church on the off chance he
might magically appear, and rescue her from this dismal day.
And then she grinned, nudging Yvette, who had stayed at her side, likely to
avoid Madame Edith, who was in one of her moods. "Wonder who the lieutenant
found to kiss, I did not think he *liked* girls." She'd seen the man
half-hidden in the trees, earlier. And felt unnerving commonality of feeling
when she'd seen the vaguely touched smile on his face fade to loneliness.
German ponce or no, she knew his type tended to live lonely lives.
^
Yvette followed Mimi's grin and smiled. The lieutenant, for all his typical
German arrogance, could also be quite nice. And there was something to be
said for not having to worry about a pinched bottom when you walked by a
man. She rather liked the idea that he had found someone to kiss. But then
she frowned, responding to Mimi's question vaguely, "I truly do not think he
does..." As a matter of fact, that strange kiss that René had for some
reason felt the need to pretend to give him a few weeks ago had made him
smile so brightly... It only confirmed every other clear signal he had ever
given Yvette. And Maria and Mimi. ...And René.
So who was he kissing for so long...
She watched his hat tumble off as he tipped his head.
Even as Yvette remembered René holding his cheeks to give him that pretend
kiss -causing his hat to fall...-, she realized those were hands on his
neck. And that he was not leaning his head down... There were a few women as
tall as Gruber. A few...
She squinted, ignoring her mother's voice in her head warning she would give
herself wrinkles, and focused on those fingers in the lieutenant's dark
hair. Suddenly the sun slipped into their shadowy spot... and glinted off
those fingers. And Yvette could not help but think of those golden rings
René wore. Surely not... "My god."
^
When the church bells rang, far above, Hubert slowly swam up from his dreamy
bliss to open his eyes and draw back a reluctant inch. He almost purred to
see René looking like a drowsy pup, relaxed and pleased and not making one
movement to step away from Hubert. His warm hands just barely stroking
Hubert's cheeks and jaw when Hubert murmured, "René, that was... lovely."
"Umm, yes. Very."
Hubert leaned back in experimentally. And sighed languidly when René
responded by stroking their noses together, followed by more of those soft
kisses, letting Hubert draw him even nearer.
This time, Hubert did not lift his lips as he spoke, letting their movements
play in the kisses, "I never want to move."
He felt René's lips curl a bit in a smile, "Then do not."
Hubert hummed softly, pressing into those meltingly warm lips, and gently
stepped forward, smiling a bit to feel René follow his lead and step back
until he leaned against the wall and Hubert could lean his forearms on the
stone by René's head and rest his weight onto him.
He would cheerfully die in this moment.
AN:I do not
currently have ideas for it.
if you have votes or thoughts... always feel free to share them. you
never know what might spark.
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