He was his superior officer, yet he was so much more. No matter how desperately he wanted to hold him, he knew that he could not. For Norrington was always just beyond his reach. Just beyond the length of his grasp. In the dying light he saw the contours of the man infront of him. The way that the light danced softly upon his features. It was in that instant that Gillette decided Norrington was an angel. His angel. Sent from the good Lord above to watch over him and steady his path if he should stumble or fall. Or if he should happen to lose faith and his way. Yes. That was most certainly it. He had found his own, personal angel.
Gillette hardly recognized his own hand as it reached out, fingertips lightly touching the gentle curve of the other man's jaw, sampling the softness of the smooth, bare skin. As Norrington reached up and lightly cupped his and over his, Gillette gave a soft, startled cry. He hadn't expected such a gesture.
"I... I'm sorry, Sir. I... I didn't mean to," he stuttered softly, his cheeks flushing a light shade of crimson.
With a soft, reassuring smile, Norrington took the Lieutenant's hand within his own. "Please. Don't apologize."
Once more, Gillette's cheeks flushed. Looking down, he could feel the heat that radiated from him skin. Don't apologize? How could he not? Norrington was his superior officer. His commanding officer. And so much more. Sometimes the younger man found himself daydreaming about him. Sometimes he thought about simply confessing his feelings, his emotions and just coming clean. But he was afraid. Afraid of how Norrington would act. Would he reject such advances? Would he turn away from him and cast him aside? They were risks that Gillette wasn't too sure that he wanted to take. Yet, he had almost lost it all when he had unconsciously reached out and touched the other man's cheek. Such a simple gesture, yet it meant so much.
"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at me, Gillette. For I have," Norrington spoke softly, his eyes gauging the reaction of his young Lieutenant.
"Please, Sir," Gillette whimpered softly, lifting his eyes from the ground for a moment to look up at the other man, "I... I..."
The words just wouldn't come. They failed Gillette and he just sort of stood there, frozen in place by an inner fear.
"Have I ever told you that you simply look beautiful when you blush like that?," with an offhanded comment, Norrington drew Gillette close.
The Lieutenant didn't resist, nor did he object. In fact, he simply said nothing. For the longest of time, Gillette just remained silent, embraced within the other man's arms. How often he had dreamt of this moment. Of being held close to the man he so loved. Was this a dream or was it reality? For a moment, Gillette closed his eyes and held his breath, daring not to breathe for fear of it being just another dream. With a slow exhalation, he opened his eyes once more and simply shook, realizing he was still there within the safe confines of Norrington's arms. With words unsaid, both men knew what the other wanted, what the other knew. A mutual admiration that was kept hidden until a single, unconscious gesture unlocked the hidden words, setting them free.
A soft, desperate cry barely escaped his throat. "Please just hold me tight and never let go."
"I thought you'd never ask," was all that came in response.
Gillette hardly recognized his own hand as it reached out, fingertips lightly touching the gentle curve of the other man's jaw, sampling the softness of the smooth, bare skin. As Norrington reached up and lightly cupped his and over his, Gillette gave a soft, startled cry. He hadn't expected such a gesture.
"I... I'm sorry, Sir. I... I didn't mean to," he stuttered softly, his cheeks flushing a light shade of crimson.
With a soft, reassuring smile, Norrington took the Lieutenant's hand within his own. "Please. Don't apologize."
Once more, Gillette's cheeks flushed. Looking down, he could feel the heat that radiated from him skin. Don't apologize? How could he not? Norrington was his superior officer. His commanding officer. And so much more. Sometimes the younger man found himself daydreaming about him. Sometimes he thought about simply confessing his feelings, his emotions and just coming clean. But he was afraid. Afraid of how Norrington would act. Would he reject such advances? Would he turn away from him and cast him aside? They were risks that Gillette wasn't too sure that he wanted to take. Yet, he had almost lost it all when he had unconsciously reached out and touched the other man's cheek. Such a simple gesture, yet it meant so much.
"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at me, Gillette. For I have," Norrington spoke softly, his eyes gauging the reaction of his young Lieutenant.
"Please, Sir," Gillette whimpered softly, lifting his eyes from the ground for a moment to look up at the other man, "I... I..."
The words just wouldn't come. They failed Gillette and he just sort of stood there, frozen in place by an inner fear.
"Have I ever told you that you simply look beautiful when you blush like that?," with an offhanded comment, Norrington drew Gillette close.
The Lieutenant didn't resist, nor did he object. In fact, he simply said nothing. For the longest of time, Gillette just remained silent, embraced within the other man's arms. How often he had dreamt of this moment. Of being held close to the man he so loved. Was this a dream or was it reality? For a moment, Gillette closed his eyes and held his breath, daring not to breathe for fear of it being just another dream. With a slow exhalation, he opened his eyes once more and simply shook, realizing he was still there within the safe confines of Norrington's arms. With words unsaid, both men knew what the other wanted, what the other knew. A mutual admiration that was kept hidden until a single, unconscious gesture unlocked the hidden words, setting them free.
A soft, desperate cry barely escaped his throat. "Please just hold me tight and never let go."
"I thought you'd never ask," was all that came in response.