Chapter 33 On Earth as It is in Heaven
Charlie
Charlie’s first month in the Conchie Corps had been as frustrating as his last time in the army.
Too many inane rules and too little common sense.
Uncomfortable beds and dull food. Yet the boys he served with looked up to him—God knows why—and listened to his advice.
He respected their courage in standing up for their beliefs, even if their idealism made him roll his eyes more often than not.
His section had been assigned to guard German prisoners of war, and Charlie was determined that they did so with dignity.
On his good days he had been able to nudge the behaviour of the boys and their NCOs in the right direction.
However, deciding to spend their lives together didn’t mean that the rest of the world went away, or that all wounds were healed.
Ned was late getting home. Charlie had barely laid his head on his pillow before he started to tremble with fear, memories of the last war dancing in his eyes.
He hated that his nightmares had gotten worse since he was in the NCC.
Ned had sleepily rubbed his back as Charlie stared out the window and fought to get his heart to stop racing.
Ned’s soothing must have worked, because the next thing Charlie knew, he was slowly waking to the early morning light, bright and full of possibility.
He was snuggled against Ned, and he held his lover closer, watching how the sun caught all of Ned’s contours, the lines on his face, the curve of his hip, the long lines of his fingers.
Sometimes life was better than poetry.
“Good morning,” Ned whispered against Charlie’s skin.
“Happy is the groom that the sun shines on, eh?” Charlie’s fingers ran down Ned’s sides, caressing and soothing, letting Ned relax into the sensation of having Charlie’s skin against his, Charlie’s foot stretching against Ned’s.
“I don’t think that is the expression.” Ned had struggled with how to describe what they were doing today—marriage, wedding, husband—these words and states were all defined by the church, by the state.
In Charlie’s mind it was simple. Those were the words for the promises they were making to each other, and the rest of the world could be damned.
“I think it is now,” Charlie whispered, gently kissing Ned’s cheek.
As he stared into those hazel eyes, his past, present, and future flashed before him.
He saw Ned as an inexperienced lieutenant, shouldering a terrifying responsibility, the brilliant and elegant man he had become, and the man he would age into, generous and wise.
Charlie’s throat swelled up with emotion that somehow, in a life full of chaos, he had managed to intertwine his life with Ned’s.
“What would you like, my love?”
“You.” Ned’s voice was rough. “I would like you.”
Charlie leaned over to kiss Ned, softly, full of affection and familiarity. The kiss of a husband.
They knew each other’s bodies so well that the slide towards a quick frotting was all too easy.
They were halfway there already, Charlie grinding his hardening cock into Ned’s thigh, Ned moaning in pleasure as he rolled his own hips.
Getting off like that would be good, but today wasn’t an ordinary morning.
“God, your lips are perfect. You are perfect.” Ned’s voice was low, his accent sharp with emotion.
Charlie rolled on top of Ned and continued his kisses, pushing off Ned’s pyjama shirt, ignoring all of its damn buttons, and exposing Ned’s lush chest. He relished in the feel of Ned’s coarse chest hair against his fingers and lips.
He knew Ned often felt at odds with his hairy chest, that it sometimes didn’t match his internal vision of himself, so Charlie was always careful to check that Ned was happy with Charlie paying attention this way.
Charlie quickly glanced at Ned’s face, which showed nothing but relaxation and happiness, so Charlie took extra time to lick his dark nipples.
“Charlie… please,” Ned panted.
To be honest, Charlie was getting close to desperate himself, and he pulled back so both of them could yank off their remaining pyjamas.
The hair across Ned’s arms, chest, hips, and legs had flecks of grey, like he was a statue covered in frost. Charlie loved how broad Ned was—a massive man.
Seeing him naked, laid out for Charlie, was a fantasy come to life.
Ned sat up and nipped at Charlie’s fingers, sucking them into his mouth, perhaps guessing what Charlie had in mind for them this morning. Ned’s soft, warm tongue swirling around Charlie’s fingertips was magic. “Oh, fuck. We’re not going to get any further if you keep doing that.”
Ned released Charlie’s fingers and laid back down on the bed, his big hazel eyes waiting for Charlie.
With an embarrassing lack of finesse, Charlie straddled Ned and then spun around so that he was lying over him, his cock brushing against Ned’s lips while Ned’s cock jutted up against his face.
Charlie’s mind was hazy with desire. He took Ned in his mouth as Ned did the same to him. The groan from Ned rippled through his whole body as Charlie licked up and down Ned’s cock.
This wasn’t a position they did often, sucking and being sucked, yet this morning that circle of focus and need was exactly what they craved.
Charlie tried to hold himself back from thrusting into Ned’s mouth, not wanting to be too rough, but Ned wasn’t having any of it, the bastard. He grabbed Charlie’s arse and pulled his cock deeper. Charlie’s hips bucked, unable to stop himself. He was rewarded with a rumble of appreciation from Ned.
Together they spiralled higher and higher and higher.
Charlie’s moans were Ned’s gasps; Ned’s shudders Charlie’s.
They didn’t have the same technique—Charlie caressing and licking, Ned sucking down as much as he could.
Ned arched under Charlie when the tip of a finger entered him, and Charlie mumbled a curse when Ned played with his balls.
How, after all these years, was this still so necessary?
Surely some of the passion should have worn off by now?
Charlie sucked deeper, or was sucked deeper, he no longer knew. The inside of a thigh was nipped. A muffled scream. Sloppy and wet and right on the edge.
And then Charlie fell over the cliff, tumbling, gasping, jerking, unable to do anything but let the waves of pleasure wash over him, holding on to just enough of his sanity to make sure that he was swallowing Ned’s release down.
Ned’s sensitive cock tumbled from his lips, as he twitched against Ned’s mouth.
They came down together, slowly stroking each other's bodies, fingers intertwined, tender kisses, the taste of one another still lingering in their mouths. Charlie could stay like this forever. Except, he reminded himself, they had a wedding to attend.
???
Ned
They cuddled afterward, kissing and not saying much, but eventually the clock revealed that they really did need to get moving if they were going to catch their train.
Neither man had bought a new suit for the occasion, but a tailor had smartened up an old suit of Ned’s, and they’d managed to find a second-hand suit for Charlie.
Ned’s was a dark blue and Charlie said it made him look like a star from the cinema.
Charlie’s was a soft grey and made Ned’s knees go weak when he put it on.
They shaved together, slowly taking the time to look their best. Charlie almost always rushed and cut himself, so Ned insisted on shaving him, running the blade slowly over Charlie’s curves and crevices, his flush of happiness at a good shave worth the extra time.
Charlie had wanted Ned to be boldly camp.
“We are on the offensive now, Pinsent,” he’d insisted.
But Ned had told Charlie he was happy with his little flashes.
He wore a bright silk tie with patterns of colour outside of fashion, and he’d added a bit of make-up, some lip tint and colour on his eyes.
Ned never could explain why he liked the feeling of make-up.
He enjoyed the creativity of it, the ability to make yourself as you wanted to be.
He reached for a small box on his dresser and slid on the small signet ring with his family’s crest—a present from his parents on his twenty-first birthday, a marker of becoming a man. He slid it easily onto his finger; he would be his full self today. The man who would one day be a viscount.
Ned wasn’t the only one thinking along these lines. Once shaved and combed, Charlie had less to fuss with than Ned. But he had reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a long thin box, staring at its contents.
After a moment, Ned spoke. “Wear them, Charlie.”
Charlie extracted a line of medals. Ned had never seen them before. He hadn’t known Charlie had quite so many.
“Are you going to wear yours?”
Ned hadn’t thought of it before, but they would be appropriate to the moment. The war was part of their love story. “Yes, I will.”
As they fussed with the pins, Ned took a look at them in the mirror and couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. They weren’t in the flush of youth, but they were still a handsome pair.
They opened the door of their room to a flat full of the sounds, smells, and activity of a Saturday morning. Betty was in the kitchen, assembling a kind of English fry-up, while Frank and Ellie bickered about some radio programme.
“Wondered when we would be seeing you two. Frank said Ned worked late last night.” Betty smiled up at Charlie as he laid a kiss on her brow, taking the toast from her.
Ned leaned against the counter and enjoyed the moment, simply watching the people he cared about most being together. Betty and the children had stayed in Ned’s flat when Charlie had left for the NCC, an arrangement that suited everyone far better than Ned could have ever dreamed.
Ellie looked up at him from her scrambled eggs and spam. “You and Dad look fancy.”
Smiling in thanks to Betty as she passed him a mug of tea, Ned answered, “We’re going to Oxford today.”
Ned bit down on his dry toast, wanting to leave the small amount of butter for Frank and Ellie. He had no desire to replace either parent, but getting to be an uncle, to share in their delights and encourage them, was a special pleasure. He was eager to see the adults both children would become.
He saw a flinch on Charlie’s face as they chatted.
He would never admit it, but Ned knew that Charlie’s wish would have been for his children to share in their joy.
Ned couldn’t offer Charlie comfort with anything more than a look, so he turned brightly to Frank and Ellie and instead asked, “Do you want to know the story of how your father won the medal with red and blue stripes?”
Ned grabbed another piece of butter-less toast and shared with Charlie’s family the story of a hatmaker’s son who had single-handedly saved three fellow soldiers as a stretcher bearer.