Outside, Temeraire was going under harness-likely the last time he would do so on British soil.
He looked up at a knock on the tent pole and rose to his feet as Granby stepped in. Another last. Granby would undoubtedly remain here, or perhaps the Eidenburg covert, to complete Iskierka's training and help pull the battered country back together.
Granby shook his hand then clasped his own behind his back and ducked his head. Laurence frowned. Sadness, he had expected, and perhaps a touch of happiness at the removal of his death sentence, but the other man looked nervous, like a school boy at his first dance.
"John," he said, "whatever is the matter? Have they …" he paused, then forged ahead bravely. "Have they changed their minds?"
Granby's head shot up. "Oh no, nothing of the sort," he said hastily. "I am sorry to have worried you, it is only, that is, I've come to say my goodbyes."
Laurence mustered up a smile, one that grew more sincere the more he spoke. "John," he began, "you are a fine man, and a promising captain, and it has been my honour to serve alongside you. I could not have asked for a better lieutenant, nor," he said putting a hand on his shoulder, "a better friend."
Granby bit his lip, sighed, and then took a step closer to Laurence, closing the distance. "Oh, damn it all, Will."
Laurence started. Very few called him by his Christian name; to hear it coming from Granby's mouth was a peculiar, but not unpleasant, thing.
"Will, I feel all the same, you gave me more than enough chances in the beginning, you are the most honourable, if not pig-headed, man I have ever met." He smiled wanly. "We had a hard job of it, but we kept you alive, in the end." He took a deep breath. "I am sorry to see you go, as you said, we will never see each other again, and I," he made a face. "Oh Lord, Will, you never make anything easy do you?"
And before Laurence could puzzle out what he meant, Granby had taken another step forward, making the distance between them quite intimate, and pulled him into a kiss.
His hands were rough and calloused, one cradling his head, the other on his jaw, and Laurence could feel his eyelashes brush his cheek as he tilted his head. Granby kissed him desperately, his lips were chapped and he tasted of tea and sugar.
His thoughts whirled for a moment, then with a mental shrug, he gave in, his hands settling gingerly on the other man's hips. He was already a traitor, a widow maker, and a wanted man in several countries, to add sodomy to the list was not so great a fall. He slid one hand around to the small of Granby-John's-back.
"Laurence, are you ready? I am all harnessed now, it is time to go."
They jerked apart with wide eyes at Temeraire's call, breathing heavily. John's hands dropped to Laurence's arms, he stared at him for a moment, face flushed and pupils blown, before flinging himself out of the tent. "He will be out shortly," he heard him call up to Temeraire. Then his footsteps hurried away.
Laurence dropped down heavily on his cot, stunned. He had flown with Granby for years, and had never known, and had never even considered it for himself. I suppose it is a good thing after all that I never joined the church. He thought wryly.
He let out a shaky breath and crossed over to the small mirror he had propped up on the table. His hair was a mess, his neat queue tangled and loose from Granby's fingers. His lips were full and quite red, he turned to the washbasin and splashed a few handfuls in his face until the colour was gone. He quickly tied his hair up again, shrugged on his coat, and went out to meet Temeraire.