Boiling Point
"Alan, you're my best student but your sense of humour could really use some work."
"..."
"Come on! You can't seriously expect me to believe that? It's an old wives' tale! Probably only invented to keep rookies in line."
"But it's fatal!"
"...shut up."
"Pardon?"
"I said SHUT UP, Humphries. Leave me the HELL ALONE!" That did it. Alan looked over with pure disbelief then stormed out without another word. But really, what did he expect? Springing a cock and bull story like that on him out of the blue. It was a joke, had to be. It was a sick, sick joke.
But Alan hadn't been entirely well for a while now, had he? People were beginning to talk. It was unbelievable though, absurd. Of all the known ways to end a reaper the Thorns of Death were generally considered a myth.
But if it was only a myth why had he lashed out? But if Alan was only a friend why did the news rip his heart out? But if Alan was going to die, what...
Eric Slingby sank to the floor, clutching his head in his hands.
The atmosphere became prickly between the two of them to say the least. Conversation around the office was minimal and monosyllabic to the point of even William raising an eyebrow. Grell's assumptions and screeches about lovers' tiffs did nothing to help.
In the end Ronald's ill-timed joke proved the tipping point. Eric snapped and rounded on the youngster, Alan lost his temper over Eric losing his temper, Grell cackled around like a demented schoolgirl and William threw the lot of them out in a rage. Spears' imperative to do the job properly and completely for once was accompanied by blistering descriptions of how each of them were a disgrace to their profession, and outlined potential punishments inventive enough to even silence Sutcliff.
Which led to here, with Eric moodily staring off into the distance while Alan finished off their forms while the older reaper tried to decide if the haze over the city was heat, smog, or a sign he had imbibed a comfort nip too many from his hip flask over the course of this very long morning.
Bah.
He began pacing up and down the slanted roof for barely twenty seconds before Alan got up from his comfortable perch on the chimney pots and walked right across Eric's path to lean against the wall of the next house in the terrace, with one foot planted awkwardly either side of their current roof's ridge and with his jaw tilted up in the air.
Seriously?
Eric's eyebrow twitched but he refused to rise to the bait, until his stomping around knocked free a loose tile. They both watched while the scrap of slate scraped to the edge of the roof then smashed into a thousand pieces on street below. Alan blew up.
"How could you be such an idiot, Eric!"
"Now just wait one bloody minute-"
"- never did I expect to be paired with such a dollymop addicted, hoisting, kanard broadsman -"
"Where the hell did you learn half of these anyway?"
"- antediluvian miscreant! You're no better than a lackwit-"
"Oi! Now that one ain't true. Alright, so maybe I ain't got the paper or posh accent to back it up but I've forgotten more than you've ever learned! I'm your bloody mentor! Show some respect!"
"Ohhh, so now he cares for something. Well thank you very much! Nice to know I rank beneath-"
"To hell with ranks! Has it never occurred within your obdurate hot-head that maybe I care for y-"
"Then that's a bloody stupid way to show it!"
Eric slammed a hand flat against the brickwork next to the smaller reaper's head, leaning over and all but snarling, "Call me stupid again?"
Alan's furious green eyes were all but giving off sparks and with hindsight Eric should have seen the slap coming. What Eric certainly did not expect was Alan's hand firmly on the back of his neck as he hauled himself up for a bruising kiss.
"...the hell?"
"Blockhead."
The larger reaper shut that smart mouth up by covering it with his, yanking Alan away from the wall when he sensed thin fingers edging towards his tie again. After harbouring rather... interesting thoughts about his colleague for far too long Eric had begun to wonder. Now they instinctively backed up against the chimney stack and were rubbing up against each other like a couple of teens on the make there was no longer any doubt.
When they broke for breath, after a good long while thanks to optional breathing, they spared only the most cursory of glances before making the switch to their own realm. Eric took control once again so the shift led them close as he could get to his own home.
One kicked in door later, Alan's hands were on his shoulders, pulling Eric's jacket out of the way, snaking his hands up and over Eric's chest only to be captured, then moved back so Eric could relieve Alan of his own jacket.
The spotless suit jacket was unceremoniously dropped on the floor as Alan started attacking Eric's neck with enough nicks, nibbles and licks to cause the taller reaper to fumble while opening the other's waistcoat buttons. Eric lost patience when faced with yet more fastenings on the shirt, he simply ripped at the fabric, which caused several buttons to roll out of sight.
"That was from Gieves and Hawkes you git!"
"Oh quit your whining. You want this don't you?" A yank on the larger reaper's tie and the kiss with real hunger behind it gave a pretty clear answer to that.
They were both sweat-soaked, Eric with angry red scratches down his back and Alan with quite the collection of dark marks over his pale chest and shoulders. Languorous, loose-limbed and lazy, neither of them showed much inclination to move.
Predictably, it was Alan who first glanced at the clock. Shuffling over, he crossed his arms on top of his new lover's chest before resting his chin on them, looking up at the other's face. Eric gave a satisfied smile in return and began gently threading his fingers through chestnut-brown hair.
"Hmm, Eric? We'll have to move to hand in the paperwork soon."
"Nah, we'll make Spears' day and send it in by pigeon."
"Idiot."
"Minx."
- END -
