![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
impala_chickTitle: And I still wonder if you notice me
Pairing: Rosie Rosenthal/Harry Crosby
Rated: Teen
Word Count: 2,389
Summary: 5 times Harry really notices Rosie +1 time Rosie notices him.
A/N: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ficinabox. My first Crosie fic :D Also, warning for infidelity.
Fic on AO3
.ONE.
Harry and Jack would often sit at their desks with scowls on their faces for hours at a time. Especially after Bubbles. No one would have asked Harry or Jack to be in charge of boosting morale around Thorpe Abbotts. Their increasing grouchiness only got worse the more coffee they drank. Both of them always had papers stacked a mile high and they tended to snap at people as the day wore on.
But lately, Jack has been even more morose than usual. If Harry is noticing, it must be bad. Harry couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen Jack smile.
That makes it all the more extraordinary when Harry walks into the Officer’s club that night and sees Jack and one of the new pilots, Rosenthal. Harry takes a seat in the corner of the room, out of the way of everybody. He doesn’t feel like being social, he just wants to let the joyful sounds in the room wash over him and see if any of their good moods are contagious.
From his vantage point, he has a clear view of the bar. Harry watches with curiosity as Rosenthal smiles and says something. Rosie’s posture is welcoming and open as he leans against the bar, so at ease. Jack’s face lights up, and he actually honest-to-god laughs. His shoulders visibly relax. Laughing is just what the doctor ordered, apparently.
Luckily neither Rosie nor Jack notices Harry staring.
.TWO.
When Buck Cleven’s plane goes down, the morale of the base plummets even more. Harry can feel it in the air. Everyone around him looks gruff and tired, and attendance at the Officer’s club parties goes way down.
And then the Munster mission just absolutely kills any shred of hope anyone had left. It’s nearly impossible to find a smiling face. Even the officer’s club band cuts their sets short. Harry is feeling particularly beat down, and starts avoiding just about everyone.
On one particularly bleak afternoon a few days later, with papers filled with the lists of dead or missing pilots all around him, he feels like nothing he does really matters. He gets so overwhelmed that he has to walk away from his desk. He ends up on the edge of the hardtack. He can see Rosenthal walking along with Lemmons, looking at something on the Fort that made it back from Munster.
Harry considers turning back, but then Rosenthal waives goodbye to Lemmons and makes a beeline for him. Harry sighs, not sure that he’s up for conversation.
“Hey, are you Crosby?” Rosenthal asks as he sticks out his hand.
“I am,” Harry confirms as he lets Rosenthal give him a firm handshake. “You’re Rosenthal?”
Rosenthal waives his other hand dismissively. “Everyone calls me Rosie.”
He smiles, and it’s the first time his smile is fully trained on Harry. Harry kind of freezes for a moment, and there’s an awkward pause. Then he quickly tries to regain his composure.
“Sure, Rosie, got it. You enjoying Thorpe Abbots?”
Harry mentally kicks himself for such a stupid question, but suddenly he’s desperate to keep the conversation going. He wants some of Rosie’s seemingly genuine good mood to rub off on him.
“It’s really something.” Rosie puts his hands in his pockets and starts walking again.
“I heard you’re a fantastic pilot,” Harry blurts out as he hurries to walk beside him.
Rosie shrugs. “I think I just keep getting lucky. I heard you’re the best navigator we have.”
Harry scoffs and guffaws and doesn’t know what to say about that. For a heartbeat he considers bringing up Bubbles, but he’s not trying to bring down the mood. He just wants Rosie to smile at him again.
“I do what I can. But if you’ve got any input for the way we brief our navigators, I’d be happy to consider feedback.”
Rosie smiles, and Harry feels something inside his chest unclench. Now he’s really starting to understand why Rosie could make people feel so much better just by standing next to them.
“You know, I’m not sure I can help with that right now, but maybe we can get coffee later? I might have some ideas.”
“Sure,” Harry agrees easily. “I usually have a cup after dinner.”
“Perfect,” Rosie says, and Harry beams.
After that, Harry is delighted when coffee after dinner becomes a regular thing between the two of them.
.THREE.
It’s an intimate scene and Harry almost feels like he should leave. But he’s rooted to the spot, and it would be weirder at this point if he stood up.
Rosie is saying goodbye to his crew outside the O-club. The rest of them are going home after 25 missions, but Rosie chose to stay. All of his guys are slapping him on the back and wiping away tears. There are plenty of manly hugs to go around. Rosie remains smiling and magnanimous through it all.
Harry can’t hear what he’s saying over the music, but he knows him well enough now to guess. He’s probably telling his guys they did their duty valiantly, and he’ll miss them all, and he thinks they’re all heroes. Coming from almost anyone else’s mouth, it would sound like a load of bullshit. But Rosie is always sincere, and Harry is sure that’s why the guys are beside themselves with sadness.
There’s no one like him, no leader that can match his calm determination and his fearless flying. He’s also the only one who can deliver pep talks that actually make people feel better about themselves. So Harry is selfishly glad he’s staying.
Bailey is the last one to hug him, slapping his back and wiping tears from his eyes. He looks truly distressed that he’s leaving Rosie behind.
Harry knows it’s impossible to walk away from Rosie without feeling just a little attached. Or maybe that’s just him.
.FOUR.
Harry knows that Rosie is well-liked on base. He didn’t realize just how truly beloved he is until he suffers a very minor injury.
The only thing Harry hears as someone runs down the hall is that Rosie is hurt. Harry feels his breath catch in his throat, and his chest constricts. There was no flying mission that day, but maybe Rosie went up on a training flight. Harry steals himself for the worst and dashes out of his office. His skin feels tight and it’s getting hard to breathe, but he has to know.
When he gets to sick quarters, he can clearly see Rosie from the doorway despite all of the personnel in the room. He’s sitting on top of the surgical table, and his face looks totally normal. He flashes Harry a smile when he meets his gaze, and that instantly puts Harry at ease.
“I’m fine, I swear,” Rosie says, loud enough for the whole room to hear. He’s still looking at Harry. “Just a little spill on my bike. If I could get a bandaid, I’ll be on my way.”
Harry smiles, grateful for the explanation. Doc Stover is examining Rosie’s knee, and another medic starts shining a light in Rosie’s eye. It sure seems like the medical team is suffering from just a bit of panic. Harry can’t blame them. Rosie is their most important asset. It is slightly amusing to see so many people hovering around him, though.
“We just have to get you checked out to make sure,” Stover is saying.
Harry sees another medic grabbing bandages and alcohol from a cabinet.
“I’ll come check on you later,” Harry says as he nods at Rosie.
Rosie waves at him, his face clearly betraying his amusement as well. There are worse things than being fussed over.
.FIVE.
When a new batch of replacements shows up, Harry is loath to go talk to them. He knows he’s one of the more senior guys now, and he should probably introduce himself. But he doesn’t want to get too attached and have even more to lose. Plus he’s got about a million more maps to draw before the day is through. He’s good at prioritizing, and work should always come above socializing.
He finds out later that there will be no mission the next day, so he really isn’t on a tight time table. He grumbles and stretches, satisfied to hear the click of his shoulders and back. He could use a walk, anyway. He decides he’ll just pop into the barracks and say a quick hello. Maybe once he gets his blood pumping he’ll feel more awake and won’t have to drink that third cup of coffee already going lukewarm on his desk.
By the time he gets there, Rosie is holding court.
“Hey, Croz, come on in. This is Billy, from Missouri. And James from California.”
He introduces all the new guys like that. How he remembers them all, Harry has no idea. It’s incredibly charming, and Harry easily fits himself into the conversation. Rosie is calm and congenial as he keeps on answering their questions. When one of the guys asks about navigators, and how far in advance they receive their mission plans, Rosie tosses the question to Harry with a smile.
Harry answers as best he can, even though that sort of thing is pretty unpredictable. He tries to match Rosie’s calm demeanor, because he knows he can come off as gruff or annoyed a lot of the time. For some reason, he wants Rosie to be proud of him.
His answer earns him a genuine smile, and his cheeks feel warmed by Rosie’s gaze.
He eventually excuses himself and bids them all good luck. He knows he’s got work to get back to. Rosie calls out to him before he goes.
“Coffee later?” He asks, as if their after-dinner coffee date hadn’t already become the most important part of Harry’s day.
“Yeah,” Harry confirms. “Looking forward to it.”
He whistles happily as he walks back, his mood significantly improved.
+ONE+
Harry feels so stupid when he finds out he fell asleep and missed D-day. As Rosie relays the whole story to him while he’s getting a shave, he also feels like an incredibly shitty friend. He should have been there to see Rosie off, and offer him a hug and some kind words. What if Rosie hadn’t made it back?
He can’t say all that in front of the barber though. He doesn’t want to look like a sap. So when Rosie asks him why he seems so upset, he says he’ll talk more after dinner.
Later, Rosie and Harry settle into their customary plush chairs by the fireplace with coffee cups in hand, and Harry doesn’t waste any time.
“I didn’t get to see you off. I didn’t get to see anyone off. And I would have really fuckin’ regretted that if you hadn’t come back.”
Rosie carefully puts down his coffee cup and reaches out with his hand. Harry looks at his open palm, momentarily confused. But then Rosie gives him a soft smile and a ‘gone on’ shake of his hand, and Harry clasps Rosie’s hand with his.
“Don’t even think for a moment that you weren’t up there with me. Your maps brought us home. I notice how much you do to keep us safe, and it shouldn’t go unappreciated.”
Rosie squeezes Harry’s hand and then lets go. Harry already misses the contact.
“And I, for one, can’t imagine doing this without you,” Rosie adds quietly, almost under this breath. But Harry hears him.
In the completely empty room with the fire casting a romantic orange glow on Rosie’s face, Harry desperately wants to kiss him. And Harry has always been terrible at impulse control.
He gets up out of his seat, and stands between Rosie’s legs. Harry doesn’t really know where to go from here. Suddenly the air in the room feels tense, both of them on the edge of a cliff, just waiting for the other to do something. Rosie looks up at him with reverence in his gaze, his mouth slightly parted in surprise.
And then Harry muses, “Doesn’t this whole coffee thing seem like a date?”
“Yes,” Rosie says, a little breathless.
Harry feels emboldened, and his heart pounds in his chest as he pushes his luck. “So have you been courting me, Robert Rosenthal?”
“You’re a married man, Harry,” Rosie says quietly, and looks away.
Harry sighs. He knows Rosie is a far better person than he is. Harry shouldn’t be putting him in this position. But he can’t turn back now.
“Does that bother you?”
“Not as much as it should,” Rosie admits, his gaze back on Harry. He’s clear-eyed and confident when he says it, and Harry nearly crows from relief. Maybe Rosie isn’t as straight-laced as he wants everyone to believe. Maybe he’s willing to make a few mistakes. God knows Harry is.
“Good,” Harry breathes. He wants so much, but he knows they’re still in a public place. He leans down, just to feel the soft press of Rosie’s lips against his own. Rosie is insistent and firm against him, tilting his head slightly. Harry feels light headed from just the kiss. Rosie’s hands grip his hips, and Harry trembles under his touch.
“We can’t do this here,” Harry mumbles, more to himself than to Rosie.
“Yeah,” Rosie drops his hands. He sounds out of breath.
Harry stumbles back, and blindly reaches for his seat again. He touches his lips as he sits down. They still feel tingly from the kiss.
“I’ll make time for you, though. I don’t have an office to myself but we’ll figure something out.” Harry is rambling now, his dick pressing against his fly and his heartbeat still pounding in his ears.
“Yeah, okay,” Rosie says. He reaches for Harry’s hand again, and Harry lets him take it.
Rosie brings it up to his lips and kisses the back of it softly. Harry shudders, his eyes on Rosie’s swollen pink mouth.
“Goddamn,” Harry breathes. “That’s romantic as hell.”
“I try,” Rosie says, beaming.
Rosie lets his hand go, and they tentatively pick the conversation back up even though everything feels so much more charged than before. Rosie is unabashedly flirty, which makes Harry’s body sing with elation and anticipation. They sit together for a while longer, until the fire turns to embers.
Pairing: Rosie Rosenthal/Harry Crosby
Rated: Teen
Word Count: 2,389
Summary: 5 times Harry really notices Rosie +1 time Rosie notices him.
A/N: Written for
ficinabox. My first Crosie fic :D Also, warning for infidelity. Fic on AO3
.ONE.
Harry and Jack would often sit at their desks with scowls on their faces for hours at a time. Especially after Bubbles. No one would have asked Harry or Jack to be in charge of boosting morale around Thorpe Abbotts. Their increasing grouchiness only got worse the more coffee they drank. Both of them always had papers stacked a mile high and they tended to snap at people as the day wore on.
But lately, Jack has been even more morose than usual. If Harry is noticing, it must be bad. Harry couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen Jack smile.
That makes it all the more extraordinary when Harry walks into the Officer’s club that night and sees Jack and one of the new pilots, Rosenthal. Harry takes a seat in the corner of the room, out of the way of everybody. He doesn’t feel like being social, he just wants to let the joyful sounds in the room wash over him and see if any of their good moods are contagious.
From his vantage point, he has a clear view of the bar. Harry watches with curiosity as Rosenthal smiles and says something. Rosie’s posture is welcoming and open as he leans against the bar, so at ease. Jack’s face lights up, and he actually honest-to-god laughs. His shoulders visibly relax. Laughing is just what the doctor ordered, apparently.
Luckily neither Rosie nor Jack notices Harry staring.
.TWO.
When Buck Cleven’s plane goes down, the morale of the base plummets even more. Harry can feel it in the air. Everyone around him looks gruff and tired, and attendance at the Officer’s club parties goes way down.
And then the Munster mission just absolutely kills any shred of hope anyone had left. It’s nearly impossible to find a smiling face. Even the officer’s club band cuts their sets short. Harry is feeling particularly beat down, and starts avoiding just about everyone.
On one particularly bleak afternoon a few days later, with papers filled with the lists of dead or missing pilots all around him, he feels like nothing he does really matters. He gets so overwhelmed that he has to walk away from his desk. He ends up on the edge of the hardtack. He can see Rosenthal walking along with Lemmons, looking at something on the Fort that made it back from Munster.
Harry considers turning back, but then Rosenthal waives goodbye to Lemmons and makes a beeline for him. Harry sighs, not sure that he’s up for conversation.
“Hey, are you Crosby?” Rosenthal asks as he sticks out his hand.
“I am,” Harry confirms as he lets Rosenthal give him a firm handshake. “You’re Rosenthal?”
Rosenthal waives his other hand dismissively. “Everyone calls me Rosie.”
He smiles, and it’s the first time his smile is fully trained on Harry. Harry kind of freezes for a moment, and there’s an awkward pause. Then he quickly tries to regain his composure.
“Sure, Rosie, got it. You enjoying Thorpe Abbots?”
Harry mentally kicks himself for such a stupid question, but suddenly he’s desperate to keep the conversation going. He wants some of Rosie’s seemingly genuine good mood to rub off on him.
“It’s really something.” Rosie puts his hands in his pockets and starts walking again.
“I heard you’re a fantastic pilot,” Harry blurts out as he hurries to walk beside him.
Rosie shrugs. “I think I just keep getting lucky. I heard you’re the best navigator we have.”
Harry scoffs and guffaws and doesn’t know what to say about that. For a heartbeat he considers bringing up Bubbles, but he’s not trying to bring down the mood. He just wants Rosie to smile at him again.
“I do what I can. But if you’ve got any input for the way we brief our navigators, I’d be happy to consider feedback.”
Rosie smiles, and Harry feels something inside his chest unclench. Now he’s really starting to understand why Rosie could make people feel so much better just by standing next to them.
“You know, I’m not sure I can help with that right now, but maybe we can get coffee later? I might have some ideas.”
“Sure,” Harry agrees easily. “I usually have a cup after dinner.”
“Perfect,” Rosie says, and Harry beams.
After that, Harry is delighted when coffee after dinner becomes a regular thing between the two of them.
.THREE.
It’s an intimate scene and Harry almost feels like he should leave. But he’s rooted to the spot, and it would be weirder at this point if he stood up.
Rosie is saying goodbye to his crew outside the O-club. The rest of them are going home after 25 missions, but Rosie chose to stay. All of his guys are slapping him on the back and wiping away tears. There are plenty of manly hugs to go around. Rosie remains smiling and magnanimous through it all.
Harry can’t hear what he’s saying over the music, but he knows him well enough now to guess. He’s probably telling his guys they did their duty valiantly, and he’ll miss them all, and he thinks they’re all heroes. Coming from almost anyone else’s mouth, it would sound like a load of bullshit. But Rosie is always sincere, and Harry is sure that’s why the guys are beside themselves with sadness.
There’s no one like him, no leader that can match his calm determination and his fearless flying. He’s also the only one who can deliver pep talks that actually make people feel better about themselves. So Harry is selfishly glad he’s staying.
Bailey is the last one to hug him, slapping his back and wiping tears from his eyes. He looks truly distressed that he’s leaving Rosie behind.
Harry knows it’s impossible to walk away from Rosie without feeling just a little attached. Or maybe that’s just him.
.FOUR.
Harry knows that Rosie is well-liked on base. He didn’t realize just how truly beloved he is until he suffers a very minor injury.
The only thing Harry hears as someone runs down the hall is that Rosie is hurt. Harry feels his breath catch in his throat, and his chest constricts. There was no flying mission that day, but maybe Rosie went up on a training flight. Harry steals himself for the worst and dashes out of his office. His skin feels tight and it’s getting hard to breathe, but he has to know.
When he gets to sick quarters, he can clearly see Rosie from the doorway despite all of the personnel in the room. He’s sitting on top of the surgical table, and his face looks totally normal. He flashes Harry a smile when he meets his gaze, and that instantly puts Harry at ease.
“I’m fine, I swear,” Rosie says, loud enough for the whole room to hear. He’s still looking at Harry. “Just a little spill on my bike. If I could get a bandaid, I’ll be on my way.”
Harry smiles, grateful for the explanation. Doc Stover is examining Rosie’s knee, and another medic starts shining a light in Rosie’s eye. It sure seems like the medical team is suffering from just a bit of panic. Harry can’t blame them. Rosie is their most important asset. It is slightly amusing to see so many people hovering around him, though.
“We just have to get you checked out to make sure,” Stover is saying.
Harry sees another medic grabbing bandages and alcohol from a cabinet.
“I’ll come check on you later,” Harry says as he nods at Rosie.
Rosie waves at him, his face clearly betraying his amusement as well. There are worse things than being fussed over.
.FIVE.
When a new batch of replacements shows up, Harry is loath to go talk to them. He knows he’s one of the more senior guys now, and he should probably introduce himself. But he doesn’t want to get too attached and have even more to lose. Plus he’s got about a million more maps to draw before the day is through. He’s good at prioritizing, and work should always come above socializing.
He finds out later that there will be no mission the next day, so he really isn’t on a tight time table. He grumbles and stretches, satisfied to hear the click of his shoulders and back. He could use a walk, anyway. He decides he’ll just pop into the barracks and say a quick hello. Maybe once he gets his blood pumping he’ll feel more awake and won’t have to drink that third cup of coffee already going lukewarm on his desk.
By the time he gets there, Rosie is holding court.
“Hey, Croz, come on in. This is Billy, from Missouri. And James from California.”
He introduces all the new guys like that. How he remembers them all, Harry has no idea. It’s incredibly charming, and Harry easily fits himself into the conversation. Rosie is calm and congenial as he keeps on answering their questions. When one of the guys asks about navigators, and how far in advance they receive their mission plans, Rosie tosses the question to Harry with a smile.
Harry answers as best he can, even though that sort of thing is pretty unpredictable. He tries to match Rosie’s calm demeanor, because he knows he can come off as gruff or annoyed a lot of the time. For some reason, he wants Rosie to be proud of him.
His answer earns him a genuine smile, and his cheeks feel warmed by Rosie’s gaze.
He eventually excuses himself and bids them all good luck. He knows he’s got work to get back to. Rosie calls out to him before he goes.
“Coffee later?” He asks, as if their after-dinner coffee date hadn’t already become the most important part of Harry’s day.
“Yeah,” Harry confirms. “Looking forward to it.”
He whistles happily as he walks back, his mood significantly improved.
+ONE+
Harry feels so stupid when he finds out he fell asleep and missed D-day. As Rosie relays the whole story to him while he’s getting a shave, he also feels like an incredibly shitty friend. He should have been there to see Rosie off, and offer him a hug and some kind words. What if Rosie hadn’t made it back?
He can’t say all that in front of the barber though. He doesn’t want to look like a sap. So when Rosie asks him why he seems so upset, he says he’ll talk more after dinner.
Later, Rosie and Harry settle into their customary plush chairs by the fireplace with coffee cups in hand, and Harry doesn’t waste any time.
“I didn’t get to see you off. I didn’t get to see anyone off. And I would have really fuckin’ regretted that if you hadn’t come back.”
Rosie carefully puts down his coffee cup and reaches out with his hand. Harry looks at his open palm, momentarily confused. But then Rosie gives him a soft smile and a ‘gone on’ shake of his hand, and Harry clasps Rosie’s hand with his.
“Don’t even think for a moment that you weren’t up there with me. Your maps brought us home. I notice how much you do to keep us safe, and it shouldn’t go unappreciated.”
Rosie squeezes Harry’s hand and then lets go. Harry already misses the contact.
“And I, for one, can’t imagine doing this without you,” Rosie adds quietly, almost under this breath. But Harry hears him.
In the completely empty room with the fire casting a romantic orange glow on Rosie’s face, Harry desperately wants to kiss him. And Harry has always been terrible at impulse control.
He gets up out of his seat, and stands between Rosie’s legs. Harry doesn’t really know where to go from here. Suddenly the air in the room feels tense, both of them on the edge of a cliff, just waiting for the other to do something. Rosie looks up at him with reverence in his gaze, his mouth slightly parted in surprise.
And then Harry muses, “Doesn’t this whole coffee thing seem like a date?”
“Yes,” Rosie says, a little breathless.
Harry feels emboldened, and his heart pounds in his chest as he pushes his luck. “So have you been courting me, Robert Rosenthal?”
“You’re a married man, Harry,” Rosie says quietly, and looks away.
Harry sighs. He knows Rosie is a far better person than he is. Harry shouldn’t be putting him in this position. But he can’t turn back now.
“Does that bother you?”
“Not as much as it should,” Rosie admits, his gaze back on Harry. He’s clear-eyed and confident when he says it, and Harry nearly crows from relief. Maybe Rosie isn’t as straight-laced as he wants everyone to believe. Maybe he’s willing to make a few mistakes. God knows Harry is.
“Good,” Harry breathes. He wants so much, but he knows they’re still in a public place. He leans down, just to feel the soft press of Rosie’s lips against his own. Rosie is insistent and firm against him, tilting his head slightly. Harry feels light headed from just the kiss. Rosie’s hands grip his hips, and Harry trembles under his touch.
“We can’t do this here,” Harry mumbles, more to himself than to Rosie.
“Yeah,” Rosie drops his hands. He sounds out of breath.
Harry stumbles back, and blindly reaches for his seat again. He touches his lips as he sits down. They still feel tingly from the kiss.
“I’ll make time for you, though. I don’t have an office to myself but we’ll figure something out.” Harry is rambling now, his dick pressing against his fly and his heartbeat still pounding in his ears.
“Yeah, okay,” Rosie says. He reaches for Harry’s hand again, and Harry lets him take it.
Rosie brings it up to his lips and kisses the back of it softly. Harry shudders, his eyes on Rosie’s swollen pink mouth.
“Goddamn,” Harry breathes. “That’s romantic as hell.”
“I try,” Rosie says, beaming.
Rosie lets his hand go, and they tentatively pick the conversation back up even though everything feels so much more charged than before. Rosie is unabashedly flirty, which makes Harry’s body sing with elation and anticipation. They sit together for a while longer, until the fire turns to embers.