Written for Yuletide 2008. Thanks to Nos for the beta! NC-17.
As the army ambulance drew to a stop at the entrance to Waldesruh, Grey woke to Stephan von Namtzen's voice booming from a short distance away, calling for grooms to see to the horses. Meanwhile, the attendants and Tom Byrd grasped hold of Grey's litter and began the stomach-turning journey out of the wagon and upstairs to his new sickbed. It was a large carved bed with a heavy canopy and curtains, the warmest in the house, said Wilhelm to Tom Byrd, as Tom declaimed on the doctors' instructions regarding Grey's care.
Von Namtzen said, "I will tend him myself," and repeated himself in English so Tom would not mistake him.
Grey could not see Tom from where he lay, but after a moment's pause, the boy said, "Aye, Herr Graf, I reckon my lord would be grateful for that."
Then von Namtzen was there, taking Grey's good right hand in his own remaining one. Grey had no strength left and the wound in his chest burned like fire. He held the image of Stephan's face in his mind as he shut his eyes, and the broad warmth of Stephan's hand holding his, as he slipped into sleep.
The last time Lord John Grey had seen the Graf von Erdberg, the man had been half-mad with grief over the loss of his left arm. It was the bad luck of a small wound infected, bearing no glory of a shot or saber-stroke in battle, and until Grey's visit to Waldesruh, nothing could comfort him.
Grey did little but sleep for the next several weeks. By some undivulged process of negotiations, an agreement had been reached wherein Tom Byrd nursed and waited upon Grey by day, while von Namtzen and sometimes an aged housemaid named Elspeth cared for him at night. No one consulted Grey, as he was, as patient, generally the last to be informed about anything. In fact, the first he knew of it was the night he awoke to find von Namtzen lying warm beside him. Hot, even. The man gave off heat like an iron stove. Grey shifted his feet under the covers to create a vent, and von Namtzen woke.
"What is it? What do you need? The necessary? Something for pain?" he asked, the room's soft candlelight lighting his face gold.
Grey shook his head, words failing him. He could not yet raise his upper body without assistance, but if he could, he would have leaned up and kissed Stephan thoroughly.
"Are you well, my friend?" von Namtzen said, easing gently down to lie on his side, his left arm turned at an angle to keep his weight from crushing the stump.
"A drink of water, perhaps?" Grey whispered.
Von Namtzen rose with surprising grace for his size and poured a small glass from the pitcher on the dresser, then gently supported Grey's back so he could drink. The pain was excruciating, but somewhat less so than the previous week, when hospital nurses were conducting the maneuver. Afterwards, Grey said, "Thank you, I am well. Only surprised to find you here."
"Wilhelm and I prevailed upon your valet to take a bed in the servants' quarters. I will care for you myself."
Grey mulled that over slowly, remembering von Namtzen's story about Prince Friedrich's youth. "Discretion is, of course--"
"The household is nearly empty. The men and most of the women are gone to help the widows and children tend the fields, lest they all starve in the winter. I tell Wilhelm you are as a brother to me, I will help, too." Von Namtzen's eyes were sparkling with the flicker of candlelight and pleasure in his own cleverness.
"I thank you for it," Grey said, yawning. "And I'm sure Tom Byrd is grateful to have a bed rather than a place on the hearthrug nearest me." Von Namtzen chuckled softly. Grey felt it in his body as much as heard it. "Are you not quite warm?" Grey asked sleepily.
With an affirmative grunt, von Namtzen again rolled to the edge of the bed and gingerly stood. It seemed a strange sight, and von Namtzen caught his stare. "The other day, you screamed to wake the dead when the bed was jostled."
"Did I?" Grey was rather glad to have no memory of the event.
Von Namtzen made quick work of the excessively warm layers, and when he eased back down to the mattress, Grey found himself in more than tolerable circumstance, all things considered. He felt Stephan's lips brush his forehead, and he slept.
July passed and the first week of August. One night, Grey woke in von Namtzen's arms, and he realized he felt better. He rose, used the piss pot and drank a cup of cool water, and returned to bed. "You are well?" Stephan asked softly.
"Entirely, thank you," Grey answered as he stretched out on his back at von Namtzen's side. Only days before, the doctor had pronounced Grey's left humerus mended and removed the splint. The shrapnel wounds deep inside his chest were still knitting, but at last, Grey could see progress. It was quite cheering. Von Namtzen rolled onto his side and wrapped his right arm around Grey's torso again. It was a new physical intimacy; it felt much as their first kiss had, before Louisa, before Percy. Grey banished any further thought of either of them.
Von Namtzen stroked gently across the wounded side of Grey's chest and firmly across the good. Their legs touched. Grey cupped the side of Stephan's whiskered face and pressed a small, almost chaste kiss to his lips. Von Namtzen smiled softly, a little sadly, as if in acknowledgment of the phantoms they were both ignoring. He returned the kiss with equal tenderness.
"You must know I treasure your friendship," Grey murmured. He stroked Stephan's cheek and hoped his feelings could be seen on his face.
Stephan drew one of Grey's hands up and pressed it to his heart. "I would not change my life. My children--"
"I know," Grey said.
"Then know that you are as dear to me, John." Stephan pressed Grey's hand so Grey could feel the heartbeat thud against his palm. They were both aroused, certainly, but the fragility of the moment forbore rushing onward.
"I would not let desires of the flesh endanger our friendship," said Grey, even as his hands slid over the linen of von Namtzen's nightshirt from shoulder to waist.
"I see no danger here, my dear friend." Von Namtzen rose onto his knees, knelt forward with Grey assisting his balance, and kissed Grey deeply. Von Namtzen's eyes crinkled at Grey's shudder of pleasure, and Grey wished fervently that his body were fit enough to do this properly. Nevertheless, he was determined to give it his best.
Linen discarded, Grey could see every part of von Namtzen's body. He knew his form by shape and feel, knew the touch of his fingers changing bandages and helping Grey from bed and bath, but never had he been at liberty to look, touch, taste.
Would that he were stronger, more fully mended inside, to give von Namtzen more.
Grey moaned when von Namtzen settled his weight over him, moaned to be covered completely, to be kissed as if the meeting of lips and tongues could conceive an eternity all their own, and the glorious slipping friction of hips thrust against each other. Von Namtzen's right arm was planted next to Grey's left shoulder. Grey reached between their hips, wrapped his hands around them both, and stroked. Stephan shook all over, thrusting hard into Grey's grip, and as von Namtzen's sweat dripped onto Grey's lividly scarred chest, he had a moment's sudden perception of Jamie Fraser above him. Grey cried out even as he bit his tongue to hold in Fraser's name. Then von Namtzen was leaning down, kissing his mouth hard, more roughly than he had earlier dared.
"Stephan, yes." Grey moved his hands harder and faster. Von Namtzen balanced on his forearm and kissed in time with his thrusts, wet and relentless, as if plundering Grey's mouth would stand in for more desirable, less salubrious activities. Would that it could. Grey could well imagine what Stephan would feel like. He let go their pricks and took hold of von Namtzen's muscular arse, pulling him down to thrust against the groove of his hip. Grey ran a sweat-slick finger over von Namtzen's opening, circling; he had no leverage to breach him, but how very much he would like to.
"John," Stephan said, quaking over him. Grey moaned as pleasure took him. For a moment, neither chest nor arm hurt as he was consumed by a perfect bliss. A long moment, apparently, as when he became aware again, von Namtzen was mopping up their mess.
On impulse, Grey sat up to kiss him, repressed a cough, and then fell victim to a fit of coughing he could not suppress at all.
"Oh, lieb, my concern, you see? I delayed for this," he said, sweeping a handkerchief from the bedside table for the purpose. "Spit," he ordered. Grey obeyed and von Namtzen drew the candle close to search the phlegmmy mess for blood. After a moment he grunted, apparently satisfied.
"I'm quite all right," Grey insisted, lying carefully back against his pillow. "I am only tired. And pleasantly so, I assure you," he added.
Von Namtzen eyed him critically, taking in Grey's appearance from head to foot. "I am sorry. I should not have put your recovery in peril."
Grey raised a hand sharply and seized von Namtzen's bare thigh. "Don't you dare apologize."
Von Namtzen met Grey's gaze; it held no regret whatsoever. Stephan glanced down at Grey's chest and brushed a kiss against the central scar. "Never," he said. "You will heal and I will keep you awake all night making love." The glimmer of humor was back.
Grey was touched by the gesture; and yet, he was more tired than he wanted to admit and a surge of renewed pain was setting his chest and arm alight. "Until your child is born or I must return to England," he said with a wan smile. "Or the Duke calls you to return to the regiment."
Von Namtzen lay down slowly and with a great gusting sigh. "We are soldiers," he said after a long moment. "We do as we must."
Grey turned his head and kissed von Namtzen's bare shoulder. "Then I believe I must kiss you again before I fall asleep. Properly." Von Namtzen smiled and moved into reach. Grey stroked his face, touched his hair, and when their mouths met, the kiss was slow: firm, steady, and sure. It could not last long enough.
Grey's chest ached when they parted, under the scar tissue, of course, and also deep in his heart, where what lived could not be. He knew himself loved, deeply and with the honor of a brother in arms. He did not ask for opium.