![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
impala_chickTitle: A Feeling Like That (remix)
Pairing: John Egan/Gale Cleven
Rated: Teen
Word Count: 2,076
Summary: Gale and John meet up at a 100th reunion. John says he's giving up drinking, and Gale worries about their future.
A/N: Written for the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
heavyartillery rolling remix. I am really proud of this one, and I realized I never posted it here, so fixing that now.
Fic on AO3
Gale is standing at the hotel bar nursing a whiskey on the rocks. He was never much of a drinker at Thorpe Abbotts, because he figured drinking would have only made his worry and his fear worse. But here, in the softly lit banquet hall with a bunch of guys from the 100th, he feels comfortable enough to indulge.
Harry and Jack did a bang up job of putting the reunion together, and he’s glad he was able to make it. Almost everyone else in the place is wearing civvies, which does give Gale pause. It’s been over ten years since the war, and he hadn’t exactly planned on making the military a career. It’s more like he can’t imagine not flying, and wearing the uniform lets him keep doing that.
He had figured that once all of the surviving members of the 100th were in a room together, the atmosphere would be sad and somber. Turns out he shouldn’t have worried, because the room is full to bursting with jovial faces dancing and drinking and chatting, even though Gale doesn’t feel much like celebrating. It’s like everyone is trying to forget there’s another international crisis on the horizon.
Except Gale can’t forget, because he has new orders in the pocket of his Air Force dress blues and he can’t remember the last time he felt so lonely. Marjorie has been gone for nearly two years, and there’s only one other person he can think of to tell. And he hasn’t been alone with John Egan in over six months.
He looks up when John finally gets up from the table he’d been sitting at and meets his gaze. He still cuts a fine figure in his tan slacks and green dress jacket. Gale thinks it's a damn shame the Air Force is about to retire that particular uniform. There’s a dark curl on John’s forehead and a huge grin on his face as he makes a beeline for Gale.
“Can I get you a drink?” Gale says as John takes his outstretched hand. John looks lighter somehow, like he’s not carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore.
“Sure,” John says as they shake hands for a beat too long. “But just Coca-Cola for me.”
Gale raises an eyebrow at that. He can’t recall a single time he’s ever seen John order a soda at a bar. Gale can’t really figure out why his first reaction is alarm, but he quickly stows that feeling and plasters on a supportive smile.
“I’m quitting booze,” John says by way of explanation.
Gale whistles. “That’s a good thing, John. I’m proud of you.”
“But?” John presses. He must sense Gale’s trepidation as Gale turns back to the bar and orders two Coca-Colas.
“But nothin’,” Gale says once the bartender retrieves their drinks. “You wanna sit outside?”
John scoops up his Coca-Cola bottle and nods towards the doors. In a show of solidarity, Gale ditches his whiskey glass on the bar top and grabs the other Coca-Cola instead.
He’s got no right to feel so put-out about John changing up his habits since he last saw him. But he’s somewhat miffed that John hadn’t let him in on such a big life change.
They settle into two green chairs under a shaded tree overlooking the golf course, with a whole table between them. Gale wonders if John has given up cigarettes too. He takes a sip of the ice-cold soda, and the bubbles make his mouth tingle.
Then he watches John pull a pack of lucky strikes from his slacks pocket and fish one out.
“Oh so you still smoke?” Gale asks, teasing.
John holds the pack out towards him in lieu of answering, and Gale shakes his head.
“I’d rather share yours,” Gale says. He hardly ever smokes without John, the act of sharing having become so ingrained in him after Thorpe Abbotts.
That makes John’s mouth quirk up into a smirk, and his gaze settles somewhere out on the golf course as he lights up.
After John passes him the burning cigarette, Gale inhales the acrid smoke. The bitter taste invokes memories of other times he’s smoked with John.
Like the time they’d both gotten leave during the Korean War, and had met up in Tokyo. They’d splurged on a lavish hotel, and Gale and John had passed a cigarette back and forth in bed while they watched a beautiful orange and pink sunrise.
And the night after Gale’s promotion to Colonel, when they’d both had a bit too much to drink but still managed to get each other off with considerable effort on John’s part. In the morning Gale had a terrible hangover, and John had massaged his feet in the bathtub while Gale smoked.
They’ve always had their own lives and their own wives after VE Day, but they’d still managed to cross paths for a few hours here and there. And whenever they’d had the time, John always made Gale feel like he was the most important thing in his life.
The realization that cigarette smoking and drinking had always been a part of those nights helps explain why Gale feels so attached to those particular habits.
“Penny for your thoughts?” John ventures as Gale passes back the cigarette.
“Why’d you stop drinking?” Gale asks. He wonders if John’s wife had a hand in getting him to quit.
“I have a lot of vices.” John shrugs and takes a sip of his cola, cigarette still between his thumb and index finger. “And I was feeling like it was a crutch. Turns out I sleep better when I don’t drink, so that’s a plus.”
Gale winces at the word vices, and his heart sinks. His hand feels clammy from the condensation on the Coca-Cola bottle, so he wipes his palm off on his slacks.
Once John married a great girl and started a beautiful family, Gale thought maybe their relationship would change, but they didn’t talk about it. Then Gale heard that John was being screened for Director of Ops for the Pacific Air Force in Hawaii, and he thought maybe John would want to distance himself from anything that could get him fired, but they still didn’t talk about it. So now that John is telling him he doesn’t want to keep his vices, maybe all that shit is finally catching up to him. Maybe what John is trying to say is that he doesn’t want to fuck Gale anymore.
“You think it’ll be weird if you stay sober all night?” Gale wonders aloud. He’s not trying to be a naysayer, but jealousy and anxiety are churning in his gut and so he just blurts out the question.
John laughs. “Nah. I’ve been doing it for a few months now. Don’t worry, I still know how to have fun.”
Gale hopes John is implying the kind of fun that Gale gets to be a part of. He figures he better bring it up now, before he spends all night wondering just how much John has changed.
“I got a hotel room tonight. You’re invited, you know. If you want to join me.” Gale tips his head towards John and smiles, but he doesn’t feel as confident as he usually does.
John raises an eyebrow, his tone teasing as he brings the cigarette to his mouth. “If I want to?”
Gale shrugs. “I didn’t want to assume.”
He reaches over and plucks the cigarette from between John’s lips, and watches John watching him as he takes a drag. His look is loaded, eyelids heavy as he worries at his bottom lip with his teeth.
“Oh c’mon, Buck. You know damn well that I wouldn't say no to you.”
Gale breathes dip, letting the nicotine and the satisfaction of John’s answer wash over him.
“What’s got you so tense today?” John presses.
“I’m just wondering if there’s anything else you’re trying to quit?” He asks quietly.
He avoids John’s gaze, instead trying to focus on the golfers walking on the grass, but he can feel John staring at him. When John huffs a laugh, he thinks maybe John is catching his drift.
Then John takes the cigarette back. There’s only about a third of it left, so John has to get close to grab it delicately between his thumb and pointer finger. His warm thumb brushes Gale’s bottom lip, and he quivers from that simple touch, full of so much promise.
“Don’t make me say it,” John says softly. “I said it once. And you still went home to Marge, God rest her soul.”
Gale feels guilt settle over him like a dark shroud. John was the first to say the word love, at the end of the war, and Gale had been the one to rebuke him for being so sentimental. And now here Gale is, craving the validation that he himself had been unwilling to give all those years ago. But Marge passing away had changed Gale. He didn’t want to let time just pass him by without being honest to the people he cared the most about.
“You’re right, I was a coward." He looks John in the eye when he says it, silently begging for some kind of absolution. “I just didn’t know a feeling like that could last ten years.”
John sighs. By then, the cigarette had burned completely out. He flicks it away and then leans back in his chair. He puts his hand on the table between them, and brushes his pinky over the back of Gale’s hand. It’s a small gesture, but Gale’s heart climbs up into his throat. John's expression looks so fond and forgiving. Gale feels a little heady from the weight of his gaze.
John says easily, “It can, and it did. Glad to know you’re in the same boat as me these days, even if it doesn’t change anything.”
Gale bites his lip, nearly overwhelmed from how kind John is being towards him when he probably doesn't deserve it. Because there's still something left to tell him.
“There’s one other thing,” Gale admits.
“I figured there was,” John says as he goes still. Waiting. Since when did he become the patient one between them?
“I’m deploying again. Vietnam.” It feels like the papers in Gale's pocket are burning a hole, and he puts his hand on them to crinkle them up just a little.
“Mmm,” John hums as he looks away from Gale's face. He moves his pinky over Gale’s hand again. “Those bastards.”
“But I’ve been promised it will be short," Gale tacks on. He doesn't want John to worry about him, he just didn't want to carry this burden alone.
John seems to think for a moment before he nods his head and blows out a breath. “You’ll be fine, Buck. You know how to handle yourself.”
“I know. But it’s a long way from Vietnam to Hawaii," Gale points out, trying to give John the out. Now would be the perfect time to walk away, if John wants to.
“Then we’ll meet in the middle,” John says confidently. Like it's a given. Of course they can make this work.
Gale breathes deeply and flips his palm so that he can hold John's hand. He's so grateful that John is still here, still wanting to give Gale what he can of himself. Gale had been foolish to act so self-centered earlier. They’ve got all night, and tomorrow, for Gale to make it up to him and prove how proud he is that John is changing into the person he wants to be. And then after tomorrow? They'll see each other again and share another cigarette and talk and laugh and it will be just as good as its always been. He has to believe that if he's going to get through his next deployment.
“It seems like the guys are having a great time.” Gale nods towards the banquet hall, figuring by then John must have been itching to get back to the party.
“They sure are. But I think the band is missing something." John waggles his eyebrows, clearly expecting Gale to back him up.
Gale happily takes the bait. “Perhaps another singer?”
John snaps his fingers and points at Gale, as if to say exactly.
“Your words, not mine,” John says with a dazzling grin. Then he’s up and out of his chair, pulling Gale up with him.
Pairing: John Egan/Gale Cleven
Rated: Teen
Word Count: 2,076
Summary: Gale and John meet up at a 100th reunion. John says he's giving up drinking, and Gale worries about their future.
A/N: Written for the
heavyartillery rolling remix. I am really proud of this one, and I realized I never posted it here, so fixing that now.Fic on AO3
Gale is standing at the hotel bar nursing a whiskey on the rocks. He was never much of a drinker at Thorpe Abbotts, because he figured drinking would have only made his worry and his fear worse. But here, in the softly lit banquet hall with a bunch of guys from the 100th, he feels comfortable enough to indulge.
Harry and Jack did a bang up job of putting the reunion together, and he’s glad he was able to make it. Almost everyone else in the place is wearing civvies, which does give Gale pause. It’s been over ten years since the war, and he hadn’t exactly planned on making the military a career. It’s more like he can’t imagine not flying, and wearing the uniform lets him keep doing that.
He had figured that once all of the surviving members of the 100th were in a room together, the atmosphere would be sad and somber. Turns out he shouldn’t have worried, because the room is full to bursting with jovial faces dancing and drinking and chatting, even though Gale doesn’t feel much like celebrating. It’s like everyone is trying to forget there’s another international crisis on the horizon.
Except Gale can’t forget, because he has new orders in the pocket of his Air Force dress blues and he can’t remember the last time he felt so lonely. Marjorie has been gone for nearly two years, and there’s only one other person he can think of to tell. And he hasn’t been alone with John Egan in over six months.
He looks up when John finally gets up from the table he’d been sitting at and meets his gaze. He still cuts a fine figure in his tan slacks and green dress jacket. Gale thinks it's a damn shame the Air Force is about to retire that particular uniform. There’s a dark curl on John’s forehead and a huge grin on his face as he makes a beeline for Gale.
“Can I get you a drink?” Gale says as John takes his outstretched hand. John looks lighter somehow, like he’s not carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore.
“Sure,” John says as they shake hands for a beat too long. “But just Coca-Cola for me.”
Gale raises an eyebrow at that. He can’t recall a single time he’s ever seen John order a soda at a bar. Gale can’t really figure out why his first reaction is alarm, but he quickly stows that feeling and plasters on a supportive smile.
“I’m quitting booze,” John says by way of explanation.
Gale whistles. “That’s a good thing, John. I’m proud of you.”
“But?” John presses. He must sense Gale’s trepidation as Gale turns back to the bar and orders two Coca-Colas.
“But nothin’,” Gale says once the bartender retrieves their drinks. “You wanna sit outside?”
John scoops up his Coca-Cola bottle and nods towards the doors. In a show of solidarity, Gale ditches his whiskey glass on the bar top and grabs the other Coca-Cola instead.
He’s got no right to feel so put-out about John changing up his habits since he last saw him. But he’s somewhat miffed that John hadn’t let him in on such a big life change.
They settle into two green chairs under a shaded tree overlooking the golf course, with a whole table between them. Gale wonders if John has given up cigarettes too. He takes a sip of the ice-cold soda, and the bubbles make his mouth tingle.
Then he watches John pull a pack of lucky strikes from his slacks pocket and fish one out.
“Oh so you still smoke?” Gale asks, teasing.
John holds the pack out towards him in lieu of answering, and Gale shakes his head.
“I’d rather share yours,” Gale says. He hardly ever smokes without John, the act of sharing having become so ingrained in him after Thorpe Abbotts.
That makes John’s mouth quirk up into a smirk, and his gaze settles somewhere out on the golf course as he lights up.
After John passes him the burning cigarette, Gale inhales the acrid smoke. The bitter taste invokes memories of other times he’s smoked with John.
Like the time they’d both gotten leave during the Korean War, and had met up in Tokyo. They’d splurged on a lavish hotel, and Gale and John had passed a cigarette back and forth in bed while they watched a beautiful orange and pink sunrise.
And the night after Gale’s promotion to Colonel, when they’d both had a bit too much to drink but still managed to get each other off with considerable effort on John’s part. In the morning Gale had a terrible hangover, and John had massaged his feet in the bathtub while Gale smoked.
They’ve always had their own lives and their own wives after VE Day, but they’d still managed to cross paths for a few hours here and there. And whenever they’d had the time, John always made Gale feel like he was the most important thing in his life.
The realization that cigarette smoking and drinking had always been a part of those nights helps explain why Gale feels so attached to those particular habits.
“Penny for your thoughts?” John ventures as Gale passes back the cigarette.
“Why’d you stop drinking?” Gale asks. He wonders if John’s wife had a hand in getting him to quit.
“I have a lot of vices.” John shrugs and takes a sip of his cola, cigarette still between his thumb and index finger. “And I was feeling like it was a crutch. Turns out I sleep better when I don’t drink, so that’s a plus.”
Gale winces at the word vices, and his heart sinks. His hand feels clammy from the condensation on the Coca-Cola bottle, so he wipes his palm off on his slacks.
Once John married a great girl and started a beautiful family, Gale thought maybe their relationship would change, but they didn’t talk about it. Then Gale heard that John was being screened for Director of Ops for the Pacific Air Force in Hawaii, and he thought maybe John would want to distance himself from anything that could get him fired, but they still didn’t talk about it. So now that John is telling him he doesn’t want to keep his vices, maybe all that shit is finally catching up to him. Maybe what John is trying to say is that he doesn’t want to fuck Gale anymore.
“You think it’ll be weird if you stay sober all night?” Gale wonders aloud. He’s not trying to be a naysayer, but jealousy and anxiety are churning in his gut and so he just blurts out the question.
John laughs. “Nah. I’ve been doing it for a few months now. Don’t worry, I still know how to have fun.”
Gale hopes John is implying the kind of fun that Gale gets to be a part of. He figures he better bring it up now, before he spends all night wondering just how much John has changed.
“I got a hotel room tonight. You’re invited, you know. If you want to join me.” Gale tips his head towards John and smiles, but he doesn’t feel as confident as he usually does.
John raises an eyebrow, his tone teasing as he brings the cigarette to his mouth. “If I want to?”
Gale shrugs. “I didn’t want to assume.”
He reaches over and plucks the cigarette from between John’s lips, and watches John watching him as he takes a drag. His look is loaded, eyelids heavy as he worries at his bottom lip with his teeth.
“Oh c’mon, Buck. You know damn well that I wouldn't say no to you.”
Gale breathes dip, letting the nicotine and the satisfaction of John’s answer wash over him.
“What’s got you so tense today?” John presses.
“I’m just wondering if there’s anything else you’re trying to quit?” He asks quietly.
He avoids John’s gaze, instead trying to focus on the golfers walking on the grass, but he can feel John staring at him. When John huffs a laugh, he thinks maybe John is catching his drift.
Then John takes the cigarette back. There’s only about a third of it left, so John has to get close to grab it delicately between his thumb and pointer finger. His warm thumb brushes Gale’s bottom lip, and he quivers from that simple touch, full of so much promise.
“Don’t make me say it,” John says softly. “I said it once. And you still went home to Marge, God rest her soul.”
Gale feels guilt settle over him like a dark shroud. John was the first to say the word love, at the end of the war, and Gale had been the one to rebuke him for being so sentimental. And now here Gale is, craving the validation that he himself had been unwilling to give all those years ago. But Marge passing away had changed Gale. He didn’t want to let time just pass him by without being honest to the people he cared the most about.
“You’re right, I was a coward." He looks John in the eye when he says it, silently begging for some kind of absolution. “I just didn’t know a feeling like that could last ten years.”
John sighs. By then, the cigarette had burned completely out. He flicks it away and then leans back in his chair. He puts his hand on the table between them, and brushes his pinky over the back of Gale’s hand. It’s a small gesture, but Gale’s heart climbs up into his throat. John's expression looks so fond and forgiving. Gale feels a little heady from the weight of his gaze.
John says easily, “It can, and it did. Glad to know you’re in the same boat as me these days, even if it doesn’t change anything.”
Gale bites his lip, nearly overwhelmed from how kind John is being towards him when he probably doesn't deserve it. Because there's still something left to tell him.
“There’s one other thing,” Gale admits.
“I figured there was,” John says as he goes still. Waiting. Since when did he become the patient one between them?
“I’m deploying again. Vietnam.” It feels like the papers in Gale's pocket are burning a hole, and he puts his hand on them to crinkle them up just a little.
“Mmm,” John hums as he looks away from Gale's face. He moves his pinky over Gale’s hand again. “Those bastards.”
“But I’ve been promised it will be short," Gale tacks on. He doesn't want John to worry about him, he just didn't want to carry this burden alone.
John seems to think for a moment before he nods his head and blows out a breath. “You’ll be fine, Buck. You know how to handle yourself.”
“I know. But it’s a long way from Vietnam to Hawaii," Gale points out, trying to give John the out. Now would be the perfect time to walk away, if John wants to.
“Then we’ll meet in the middle,” John says confidently. Like it's a given. Of course they can make this work.
Gale breathes deeply and flips his palm so that he can hold John's hand. He's so grateful that John is still here, still wanting to give Gale what he can of himself. Gale had been foolish to act so self-centered earlier. They’ve got all night, and tomorrow, for Gale to make it up to him and prove how proud he is that John is changing into the person he wants to be. And then after tomorrow? They'll see each other again and share another cigarette and talk and laugh and it will be just as good as its always been. He has to believe that if he's going to get through his next deployment.
“It seems like the guys are having a great time.” Gale nods towards the banquet hall, figuring by then John must have been itching to get back to the party.
“They sure are. But I think the band is missing something." John waggles his eyebrows, clearly expecting Gale to back him up.
Gale happily takes the bait. “Perhaps another singer?”
John snaps his fingers and points at Gale, as if to say exactly.
“Your words, not mine,” John says with a dazzling grin. Then he’s up and out of his chair, pulling Gale up with him.