[fic] the pacific - all these roads (2/2)
~
Coming home to Mobile was strange-but maybe this time it wasn’t so utterly unexpected. Maybe this time he’d have a better handle on things. He told his parents that he’d only be gone a few days, Snafu had a job at the lumberyard to return to-they both had their respective lives to get on with. But there was something more truthful, more alive in the last few days than Eugene had experienced in the last few months and he wasn’t sure he was ready to let it go.
Snafu coasted to a stop at the train station of all places and cut the engine. Eugene listened to the clack of a train departing from the station, the low whistle and the bulky machine pulling away to the east. He looked questioningly at Snafu who was staring at the train station, fingers loosely wrapped around the steering wheel even though the keys were in his lap. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing briefly before he turned to look at Eugene.
“I’m getting on a train to New Orleans.”
Eugene looked at him like he had gone crazy, “I don’t think they’ll let you attach your car to the back of the train, Snafu.”
“Naw,” Snafu agreed, “I’m gonna keep my car at your place, Sledge. It’ll get stolen in New Orleans, I know it.” He picked the keys up and held them out towards Eugene, “As a favor?”
Eugene hesitated for a moment but reached out to take the keys, saying with a wry grin, “What makes you think I’d want to even be caught driving your ugly-as-sin car?”
“Fuck off,” Snafu replied, shoving at Eugene’s shoulder, but there was still a slight smile on his face. He opened the door and got out, motioning for Eugene to come take the driver’s seat.
“You might need it,” Eugene said, not moving and looking skeptically at Snafu.
“I got no place to store it,” Snafu replied steadily and he shut the door. Eugene got out too, keys still dangling from his fingertips uncertainly.
“Just keep it for me,” Snafu said, cutting Eugene off preemptively, “Use it to go to college or whatever the hell you’re gonna end up doin’.” He slid his hand across the roof of the car, across the fading black paint, “Just for a bit. I’ll come back for it.” He looked up, meeting Eugene’s eyes and Eugene understood that what he meant to say was I’ll come back for you.
“Okay,” Eugene said finally, “Alright, Snafu.”
Snafu nodded and he wasn’t really smiling any more. He let his eyes rest on the car for a moment more and then he looked up at Eugene who was still standing there with the keys in his hand. He paused and for a second Eugene thought that he was going to step forward, say something, pull him into one last hug, anything at all-except he just nodded his head once and turned around.
Eugene felt like reaching out, felt like chasing after him, felt like calling his name and saying a goodbye-but he did none of those things, just watched Snafu’s back make its way through the loose crowd of people, until he was lost to sight and Eugene had no choice but to open the car door and get in.
He’d have to fix the engine or muffler-whatever the hell roared under the hood of the car. He’d have to see if he could get it repainted, get everything fixed up so his father wouldn’t demand to know why there was a jalopy perpetually sitting in their driveway.
He watched the train station dwindle away into the distance in his rearview mirror and then he was on his way home.
~
S.
I got your car fixed up so now it doesn’t sound like a dying sealion whenever I take it out for a drive. The muffler was broken but you probably already knew that. I didn’t give it a new coat of paint or anything though. At least I won’t have to worry about the car getting stolen or anything because I don’t know anyone who would want it.
I signed up for a biology class at Alabama Polytechnic Institute. I don’t remember much science from high school but I remember being pretty good at it. I’m hoping that once I’ve sat through a few lectures, I’ll start remembering some of the stuff better.
I contacted the marines and they gave me your address. I hope you don’t mind. I hope this letter finds you well.
E. S.
The assistant that Hammel hired was five times as dumb as the secretary who quit but at least fifty times prettier. She spent most of the day touching up her makeup in her compact mirror or smiling at the customers who wandered in and out of the office, taking down their orders and failing to file them away in the correct places. Snafu half wondered if she even knew the sequence of the alphabet-hell, he had a shitty grasp on reading but even he knew to file the J’s under the J and that O came after I. But she had a perfect complexion and wide blue eyes and wavy brown hair that she pulled back into a bun every day and she wore flattering clothes that straddled the line between professional and inappropriate.
During her lunch break, she’d often take a glass of cold iced tea to Snafu who was invariably working the table saw-and sometimes she would just stand there and watch the fabric of his shirt stretch thin over his shoulderblades. She giggled whenever she spoke to him and spoke in a nauseatingly awed voice about the war if she ever brought it up and it didn’t take much to see through her transparent intentions to land herself a fighting marine.
Snafu didn’t talk to her unless he was directly addressed and spent more time making crude jokes with the men in the yard than he did looking in her direction.
S.
My biology classes have been really interesting. I always thought biology was more about the human body and medicine but I guess that was only because my father is a doctor. I’ve learned more than I’ve ever expected about the animals around here. I’m thinking about becoming a conservationist because it would be a great pity if our grandchildren never got to see some of the currently endangered species.
I hope you are well. I know you are busy but maybe you could come visit sometime. My parents told me to tell you that they are sorry for not having been more available when you last visited. They’d really like to get to know you. It would be great to see you again.
E. S.
The woman across the alley moved sometime in late October and a balding old man took her place. He kept his blinds shut and never opened them, not even during the day.
It didn’t matter though. When Snafu was stroking his own dick, he thought of a lean body, dark eyes, and deep red hair-a familiar presence pressed up against his body and he ached.
S.
Thanksgiving is coming up soon and if you don’t have any plans, we’d be delighted to have you.
E. S.
~
There were letters that Eugene never sent, letters with words like I miss you and I wish we could talk written in them and scratched out a hundred times because he wasn’t a goddamn sentimental fool and fuck if he was going to send some ridiculous bullshit like that to Snafu of all people.
~
Snafu was half tempted to ask if he could work overtime during Thanksgiving to fill a particularly heavy order that had come in-a last minute addition for a construction company who wanted to finish as much construction as possible before the winter rain set in. He never did though-which was why he was sitting in his apartment, reading yesterday’s edition of the newspaper and half wondering what the hell he was going to do for dinner.
He had gotten that invitation from Sledge-sure-but he knew better than to show up at a family event like that. He would only be the awkward stranger at the table, dragging down conversation and generally not fitting in at all-which was better that he just stayed put in New Orleans and not thinking about it. It would be better if he wasn’t there so that Sledge wouldn’t have to field stupid questions about the war, so that he wouldn’t have to sit still and make nice with strangers who were all so fucking sympathetic without having a clue as to what they were being sympathetic for.
It wasn’t like his options in New Orleans were much better considering all of his close family had died (though maybe there was an aunt or an uncle somewhere in the city that he was thankful not to be in contact with considering most of his relatives only contacted his late ma for bail money, for drug money, or really just for any money at all). But he’d still prefer spending Thanksgiving by himself than with strangers.
Snafu jumped when someone knocked on his door in the late afternoon. He figured that they had the wrong door and would discover their mistake soon enough and kept his eyes on the paper, stirring the lukewarm coffee idly with a spoon for a lack of anything better to do.
The knock came a second time, more insistent and Snafu actually eyed the door, lips pressing into an annoyed line as he got up to snap at the person behind it. Swinging the door open, he already had a few choice words on the tip of his tongue, “God-fucking-dammit-“
Eugene looked back at him, both eyebrows raised, “That how you usually answer the door?”
“Sledge,” Snafu replied stupidly, staring at him.
“I guessed that you’d just be doing nothing by yourself,” Eugene said as he raised a brown paper bag, “So I figured that I’d come over, seeing as I have your car and everything. I even brought dinner.”
Snafu was still staring at him as if not really comprehending the fact that he was standing at his doorway instead of sitting around a table in Mobile with the rest of his family, talking about stocks or horse races or whatever the hell it was that rich white folk talked about. Eugene shifted his weight uneasily, looking at him worriedly, “Can I come in?”
Snafu swept a quick glance over the inside of his apartment and paused a moment like he was going to actually say no before he stepped aside, saying, “Don’t mind the mess,” in a deliberately impassive tone of voice.
Eugene stepped into the room eyes curiously scanning across the stacks of newspapers on the small fold-up table crammed into the corner that was his kitchen, the bare mattress, the books he had shoved under the leg of his desk. Snafu closed the door after Eugene and locked it shut again, not saying anything. There was a set to his jaw that told Eugene all he needed to know without a single word said.
Snafu watched Eugene warily a moment before considering the mess on the table. Maybe he ought to clean up a bit, see what he could do about making the room vaguely presentable. But he really ought to have done that before Eugene arrived, so this entire thing was really just a lose-lose situation. He knew that his place paled drastically in comparison to where Eugene lived-but fuck, Eugene should have figured out that Snafu wasn’t as rich or as privileged as he was, that he didn’t have the same options available to him. So why the fuck was he so concerned about his damn image all of a sudden?
“You want something to drink?” Snafu asked, figuring that maybe he’d at least attempt to play the host, “I made coffee.”
Eugene wavered uncertainly for a moment, eyes on the table like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch anything before he set the bag down by the door and looked at Snafu, “Sure.”
Snafu opened a cupboard with a lone ceramic plate in it, scowled, and proceeded to rummage through the motley collection of cups on the counter next to the sink. Picking one that was relatively less dirty than the others, Snafu rinsed it out, glancing over his shoulder, “What did ma and pa think about your little impromptu trip?”
Eugene smiled wryly, “They didn’t get much say in it.”
Snafu handed him the cup of coffee, a smirk curling at his lips, “First Thanksgiving back and their war hero is missin’ from the table. What your relatives gonna think?”
“They can think whatever the hell they’d like,” Eugene replied determinedly. He took a drink of the coffee as they lapsed into silence. Snafu leaned up against the wall, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, pale eyes fixed on Eugene’s face. The chair at the table remained empty-Eugene wasn’t going to sit if Snafu had to stand.
“This coffee is disgusting,” Eugene said after a long silence. Snafu grinned real wide at that, breathing smoke with his words.
“Oh, I’m sorry your pansy ass can’t handle strong coffee. D’ya need a little bit of cream? Little bit of sugar?”
Eugene rolled his eyes but he was smiling as he set the coffee down on the table. He turned towards Snafu who was still watching him with clear interest and within three steps, he was invading the other man’s personal space, one palm flat against the wall next to Snafu’s head. Snafu didn’t even blink, just pulled the cigarette from his lips and regarded Eugene calmly.
“How come you never came back?” Eugene asked quietly.
There was a beat in which Snafu didn’t answer-and from this close up, Eugene could see clearly the way that Snafu’s eyes briefly clouded over with something, slipping out of focus, and the way that his entire frame tensed momentarily. He licked his lips nervously. “I’m a busy man, Sledge,” he said, meeting Eugene’s eyes and they both knew he was lying.
Eugene leaned forward and fit his lips against Snafu’s-just a simple press as he cupped Snafu’s cheek, sweet and innocent. They traded shared breaths for a moment, eyes wide open and then Snafu’s hand was at the back of his head and he was opening his mouth and deepening the kiss, a sense of urgency taking over. Eugene was pulling off his coat and Snafu was pulling at Eugene’s shirt and within a few minutes, Snafu was dragging Eugene down with him onto the mattress and Eugene was working frantically to undo Snafu’s pants, breathing heavily against his ear.
Snafu ran his hands along the sides of Eugene’s ribcage, mapping out the skin beneath his fingertips, breath hitching as Eugene wrapped his hand around his cock, eyes falling shut. Jesus Christ, when had Eugene gotten this confident, this certain about this-them? Eugene’s nose nudged briefly against his cheek and then the other man was kissing him as he dragged his grip down the length of Snafu’s cock. It felt like someone had set him on fire, this heady intensity of pleasure sparking every time that Eugene moved his hand. His hands gripped Eugene’s ribcage, his jaw clenching tight out of habit, biting down on the moans.
He gasped when he came, eyes flying wide open as Eugene pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw, dark eyes intent on his face. There was a moment of frozen motion as Snafu recovered in the aftershock, their lips brushing lightly-and then Snafu was sliding his hand past the waistband of Eugene’s underwear, hooded eyes staring up at Eugene. Eugene made a tiny sound at the back of his throat, eyes slipping shut and Snafu took this moment of weakness to roll them over, switch their positions so that he was straddling Eugene’s thighs.
He ran a hand over the span of Eugene’s chest, tracing down over his hipbones like he was trying to memorize him, all of the scars and imperfections, mapping out first with his fingertips and following with his tongue. Eugene shuddered with the touch, hands threading into Snafu’s hair, giving a sharp intake of breath as Snafu dipped his tongue into his bellybutton-and then the attention was finally back where he really wanted it, the hand wrapping back around his cock, sliding up and down in a languid rhythm as Snafu leaned forward to kiss him.
When it was all over, Eugene wondered abstractly if Snafu was going to get off of the bed and wash his hands and pretend that nothing had really happened. He wondered if he was allowed to say something, make mention of this stupid nameless thing between the two of them, wondered if it meant anything at all to Snafu as it did to him.
Snafu turned towards him, stilled for a moment as he let his eyes rove over Eugene’s face, studying him in the early evening light coming through the open window. He smiled-maybe a little uncertainly-and leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of Eugene’s mouth before sliding off the bed.
~
Eugene memorized the hierarchy of everything in the living world: kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species. The more he learned about the world far beyond civilization, the more he hated humans and the destruction they forced on each other, hated all of the things that were invented with the intent to do harm against a living creature.
The heating unit in Snafu’s apartment was broken again. He spent an extra fifty dollars on a coat and had to cut down on cigarettes for a little over two weeks. They were the most miserable two weeks of his life, made bearable only by the twice-weekly letters that Eugene sent him. When he wrote back, all he could think of was a sentence or two of inanity, written in his unbearably childish scrawl in comparison to the elegant loops of Eugene’s practiced hand.
The birds had migrated even farther south for the winter, leaving the yellowed trees for lusher lands. Eugene still liked to take frequent walks through the woods even though he didn’t think about the war as much as he did. He looked at the tracks of animals instead, following the path of deer crashing through the undergrowth until he almost forgot that he was a human and not just a part of the forest.
Business at the lumberyard slowed down to a crawl as winter truly set in. Snafu spent most of his time in the office instead, having been delegated to pushing pencils until construction picked back up again in the spring. The secretary perpetually attempted to catch his eye and smiled at him whenever he happened to look over in her direction. He spent most of his time glaring at paperwork that he rarely attempted to fill out.
For Christmas, Eugene was surprised to find a package delivered to his doorstep, unmarked besides his name and address. The handwriting was familiar though and he didn’t need to think hard to figure out who it had come from. It was a full color book, Birds of North America , with all of the colorful plumage from lifelike drawings inscribed brightly on each page. And tucked in between the cardinal and a black finch were a set of familiar dog tags: Shelton, Merriell.
Snafu celebrated the start of the new year at a bar in a seedier district of New Orleans. He pounded back liquor without difficulty, starting off making easy conversation about the state of the economy with the man sitting next to him and then slowly getting more and more quiet with every drink. By the time he left, a group of teenagers had already labeled him as an easy target. When they attacked him in the alleyway, Snafu cracked two jaws and broke an arm before they had realized their mistake.
Sid continuously tried to invite Eugene to all of the social events in Mobile, trying to coax him with arguments like, “How the hell are you going to find a girl if you aren’t looking?” and “If you’re not going to date your biology lab partner, then you should at least try elsewhere.” Eugene appreciated the sentiment but they both knew that every time he went to any event, he was invariably one of the men standing at the corner of the room, looking at the remnants of a normal life he had long forgotten how to live.
They didn’t see each other again until late March. On a sunny day, Eugene received a letter with the date and time of a train leaving from New Orleans and arriving in Mobile. He smiled.
~
It was pouring hard when Snafu’s train was scheduled to arrive on a Friday afternoon. Eugene had forgotten to grab an umbrella on his way out and the rain had started just as he pulled up next to the building-which would explain why his hair was a little damp and there were wet streaks running down his shoulders. The train pulled into the station ten minutes late-and for a brief moment the screeching of the brakes sounded like whistling shrapnel. Eugene shook his head to clear it.
Snafu was one of the last off the train, glancing around the place a little uncertainly like he didn’t expect to see any familiar faces. He didn’t carry a bag with him, just the slouch of his shoulders and a weary expression. But when he finally saw Eugene, he smiled-face transforming from a sullen stare to something much lighter. Something in Eugene’s stomach tightened.
“Look at this fuckin’ rain,” Snafu said as he approached Eugene, “Knew I should have stayed in New Orleans.”
“Aw, I’m glad to see you too,” Eugene replied, with a grin, bumping his shoulder.
~
“Ma, this is Merriell Shelton,” Eugene said, the name tasting unfamiliar on his tongue.
His mother smiled warmly as she grasped Snafu’s hand, “It’s great to see you again, Merriell. I’m so sorry we didn’t get to talk when you visited last summer.”
Snafu managed a polite smile back, “The pleasure’s all mine, ma’am.” He hadn’t been called Merriell since his mother died.
“I haven’t had a chance to thank you for taking care of Eugene out there,” she exclaimed, “He’s told us a few stories about it, about how you’ve saved him a few times-“
“Can we go inside, ma?” Eugene asked, interrupting. She blinked at him, seemed to note that it was raining heavily just beyond the porch roof and immediately stepped aside, ushering them in. Snafu kept his hands to his sides, taking in the somewhat familiar surroundings of the Sledge household.
“Would you like some tea, boys? I’ll get Lily to make some for us, right away.”
Someone-one of the servants, Snafu realized belatedly-stepped into the hallway and said, “Mr. Sledge, you have a phone call.” Eugene glanced at Snafu who was looking vaguely uneasy.
“Be right back,” Eugene murmured and he stepped away into the kitchen. Snafu watched him go and gave a start when Mrs. Sledge reappeared behind him without a warning.
“He’s been a busy man recently,” she observed, causing Snafu’s head to snap around. She was carrying tea for them, one saucer in each hand, one of which she held out to him, “Turns out Lily just brewed a new pot, bless her heart. Would you like sugar or milk?”
Snafu stared at her a little blankly as he took the teacup-he was entirely out of his league here. “No thank you, ma’am,” he replied.
“Take a seat, Merriell,” she instructed, sinking into one of the armchairs in the parlor herself. He looked around uncertainly before perching on the very edge of the couch.
“Eugene’s joined a few conservationist societies-he’s probably taking one of their calls right now,” Mrs. Sledge explained, taking a sip of her tea. Snafu kept his grip steady on the fine porcelain saucer, eyes on her face as she the teacup back down with a clink, surveying him with a smile, “I suppose I’ve got you to thank for that, Merriell. I don’t know what you did last summer but it was a miracle. When he came back, it was as if he had suddenly found life worth living again.”
Snafu dropped his gaze to the teacup in his hands. Eugene’s mother would be the last person he’d want to talk about regarding what he had done to Eugene.
“And during the war,” she pressed on, smiling at him still, “Thank you for watching my boy’s back. I’m sure I have you to thank many times over for Eugene making it out of there alive.”
“He had my back too, ma’am,” Snafu replied quietly.
“Nevertheless,” she said, “I have you to thank for his life. Without you, he wouldn’t be alive, wouldn’t be able to start a family of his own. I would never have the chance to see his children,” she kept smiling at him, even when there was a twist of something unpleasant in his abdomen, walking headlong into unwanted truths. “You know how much that means to a mother?”
Snafu slowly set the untouched teacup onto the coffee table in front of him, afraid that maybe the slight tremble in his fingers would be given away by the rattle of cup against saucer. Mrs. Sledge didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in smiling at him. Jesus Christ what was he doing? He didn’t belong here in this too-big home with nice furniture and old antiques worth more than his monthly salary lining the bookshelves and he didn’t know why the hell he had ever thought, even for a moment-
“Thank you, Merriell,” Mrs. Sledge was saying but Snafu couldn’t hear her past the roar of blood in his ears.
~
As it turned out, the call was from Sid who needed help moving his truck out from where it had skidded into the mud at the side of the road. “You don’t have to come,” Eugene said quickly to Snafu, darting a glance outside to where the rain had lightened up considerably but was still coming down. Snafu had only smirked at him.
“Think I’m goin’ soft? A little rain’ll do me in?”
Snafu barely remembered the blond kid who might have been at Pavuvu-vaguely remembered him for being one of the boys Sledge used to hang out with before he ever got his first real taste of combat. From the wary way that he looked at Snafu, though, it was obvious that Sid seemed to remember him. He wondered if he had ever terrorized the man before.
“You remember Snafu,” Eugene was saying after he had introduced Sid, and Sid had laughed a little uncertainly. Snafu smiled real slow-in a way that he knew he had back on Pavuvu when he was addressing new recruits-something smug and condescending in the tilt of his lips. Maybe he should have been trying to get along with Eugene’s best friend instead-but he had never really been one for sharing and that stupid selfish part of him was actually jealous of this man.
“Good to see you again,” Sid said, not sounding at all like he was pleased though he had a polite smile on his face.
“You sure got your car stuck in good,” Snafu replied, not taking his eyes off of Sid’s face.
“Yeah,” Sid replied, his eyes narrowing and turning, “Good of you to come help.”
There was a woman standing a little ways off, looking at then shyly. She looked like maybe she had just graduated high school-had a sort of natural, free flowing spirit kind of look about her, with her hair down and soaked by the rain, long skirt splattered by mud. “That’s his wife’s sister, Abby,” Eugene said when followed Snafu’s gaze. And then as an afterthought, “Play nice, Snafu.”
Snafu smirked a little.
The rain made the sides of the truck slippery. It made his shirt damp and stick to him uncomfortably, sliding down the back of his neck. Shoving his shoulder against the back of the truck, it took them four separate tries to get the car out of the mudhole it had sunk into, with the girl maneuvering at the steering wheel, glancing back at them once in a while worriedly. When it finally sprang clear, Snafu had mud streaked across his pants and on his arm.
“Come around for dinner,” Sid said when the car was up and running again.
“We can’t,” Eugene said apologetically, “My dad wants to meet Snafu.”
“Come for tea then,” Sid insisted, eyes sliding towards Snafu, “Mary’d love to meet Snafu too. You talk about him enough as it is.”
Snafu glanced at Eugene, eyebrows furrowing. Eugene kept his eyes steady on Sid and if he was embarrassed, he didn’t make any indication of it.
“Alright,” he agreed.
~
“How’s New Orleans?” Sid asked, stirring his coffee with a spoon, “You live in New Orleans, right?”
Snafu shrugged slightly, not really interested in making conversation with people he didn’t really care to get to know, “It’s New Orleans.”
“What do you do?” Sid pressed on, sounding a touch annoyed-and Snafu knew he was just trying to be polite, he didn’t actually give a shit as to what Snafu did for a living. Neither of them wanted to be having a conversation with the other but Eugene had been swept away by Sid’s wife the moment that they had stepped into the house.
“I work in a lumberyard,” Snafu replied, deadpan.
There was a stretch of uncomfortable silence then, as Sid looked at his coffee, lips twisting in frustration. Snafu let his eyes wander, looking from the bookshelves filled with classic books, the radio in the corner, the framed paintings and the antiques. He couldn’t fucking imagine living in a place like this. His eyes reached the back door-where he could see Eugene talking animatedly to what’s-her-name-the wife’s sister-through the window.
He was gesticulating at the trees as he spoke words that Snafu couldn’t hear, a sort of brightness in his eyes. Snafu was caught between smiling in response and feeling oddly bereft when Sid suddenly spoke up.
“Been trying to get them together for ages.” Snafu looked over to where Sid was also looking out the window, obviously having followed Snafu’s gaze, “Eugene’s been so antisocial since the war that it’s like trying to drag a stubborn stallion, trying to get him to go to social events. I figure maybe he’s not looking for a stranger, maybe he’s looking for someone he already knows.” Sid nodded at the door, “So my wife and I have been trying to throw them together for the last couple of months.”
Snafu felt an unpleasant sort of anger coiling in the pit of his stomach but he managed something like a smirking smile anyways and a word that wasn’t strangled by the sudden coldness that was washing over him, “Cute.”
“He shouldn’t be so goddamn lonely,” Sid was going on to say, even if Snafu suddenly didn’t want to hear any more of his words, “I came back and found Mary. He came back and-” he shrugged vaguely, setting the coffee onto the table, “-it took him a lot longer to heal and I’m willing to bet it was because he never had anyone to confide in. He wouldn’t speak to me about it either. If he had found someone, I bet-I bet he would have healed faster.”
Snafu looked out the window, at Eugene’s half smile, and the way that what’s-her-name was looking up at him in disgustingly obvious adoration-
“It’s pretty much inevitable,” Sid grinned, nodding at them with a self-satisfied expression of a job well done.
Eugene looked happy and it would be so easy for him to fall back in love with her and she’d be used to places like this house, she’d cook him dinner every night and dust off his antiques and be the beautiful lady on his arm when they went out, dressed up in an elegant red dress and the pearls that he gave her for their third anniversary-
Snafu grinned because it was the only thing he could do to stop himself from thinking about it and he was so fucking proud of the way his voice kept to his normal lazy drawl as he murmured, “Well ain’t that something.”
~
Snafu was mostly silent during dinner though he replied when he was spoken to, said his please and thank you’s, and smiled politely whenever he was addressed. Maybe it was just Eugene’s imagination but the man seemed to be more distracted, more withdrawn than he had been earlier in the day. He knew that Snafu had this stupid habit of not eating much-which was probably the reason why he hadn’t really touched his plate, but it didn’t stop Eugene from worrying.
His father had glanced at him with a vaguely confused expression a couple times throughout their dinner conversation-Eugene had relayed stories about a man who wasn’t particularly concerned about incompetent authority, who liked to terrorize new recruits, and who had bodily hauled him to safety on more than one occasion-all of which didn’t fit the picture of the quiet man who sat before them now. His brother stopped trying to ask him questions after the first few monosyllabic answers and went on to relay stories about work at the bank.
“Hey,” Eugene said, catching Snafu’s wrist in the hallway after dinner had been cleared up, after his brother had left and his parents had retired to their room. His eyes were serious in the dim light of the lamp from the room at the end of the hall, searching Snafu’s face. “Is there something wrong?”
Snafu looked back at him, eyebrows furrowing in evident confusion, “Why would you ask that?”
Eugene paused for a moment before he gave a Snafu a quirked smile and jerked his head down the hall towards his room, “Come on.”
~
Snafu woke at four in the morning, before the morning sun had even deigned to think about rising past the horizon. It was on the tail of a bad dream-he was never quite sure what he dreamed about any more but it didn’t take much imagination to conjure what it might have been. He laid there for a few moments, staring at the wall of an unfamiliar room with a familiar warmth at his back before mustering up the strength to get up.
Moving carefully as to not disturb Eugene, Snafu slipped out of bed. He pulled on his underwear and his still-muddy pants, and had to spend a moment trying to find his shirt among the mess of clothes on the ground. Fully dressed, he paused for a moment, turning around to look at Eugene.
Eugene’s face was peaceful in sleep tonight-a sure sign that he was slowly starting to forget, to the extent where even his subconscious was starting to let go. Jesus, he hoped that he could be that lucky someday. Snafu couldn’t help himself as he studied the smooth brow, the sweep of his cheekbone, the hair curling at his temple-he reached out and traced his fingertips lightly across the line of Eugene’s jaw and tried not to think of how much it hurt.
This was dangerous-and maybe he had already stepped past the point of no return, somewhere in the space between a roaring engine and the scratch of pen to paper. Maybe he had stepped past it during the scatter of earth from near misses, from the scream of gunfire, of dehydration and typhoons. Maybe he had no chance at all in the first place.
The keys weren’t hard to find and he was grateful that Eugene had fixed the muffler when he backed down the driveway on his way back home.
~
Eugene woke to the thump of something against his window. Blearily, he turned his head towards the rising sun and saw a bird shake itself from its daze and spread its wings, taking to the sky once more.
Blinking away the sleep, he paused a moment when he realized that he was naked under the sheets. This recognition was rapidly followed by the realization that Snafu was nowhere to be found and his clothes were gone. With a spike of panic, Eugene pulled on his pants and looked out of his window-goddammit, the car was gone.
Eugene breathed in deeply, trying to make sense of what had happened-the unnerving withdrawn attitude, the silence, had all of that been leading up to this? Why the fuck hadn’t he said something about it? Was Eugene just overreacting and jumping to all of the wrong conclusions?
Eugene threw on his shirt and buttoned it up as he made his way down the stairs. He managed to scrawl a hurried note before finding the keys to the other car and practically running out the door.
~
Eugene spent most of the train ride with his face pressed into his hands, ignoring the jostle of other riders and the sway of the compartment as the machine clacked over the rails. He spent most of the train ride wondering what the fuck it was that he was doing, running after something that he was never sure existed in the first place. Had he just imagined all of this-the way that Snafu shared in his smiles-had he just misread everything?
And he had always known that it wasn’t right in the eyes of his God and society looked down on sodomites but he thought it was okay because this was Snafu, because this man had saved his life when God thought it right to hurl bullets and bombs at him, because he had shared so much with this man already that handing over his heart had seemed like the right logical progression. And what the hell did he care what society thought when he had his soul ripped to shreds in the Pacific so that they might retain their freedom, who the hell were they to judge?
Somewhere in the three hour ride from Mobile to New Orleans, Eugene realized with a sort of detached interest that he was crying. He didn’t know when he started clenching his jaw against the sob building up against the back of his throat, when he was physically making himself sit still because he couldn’t let his shoulders shake-but when he took his hand away from his eyes, his fingers were damp and he could feel something like a real ache in his chest. He kept his face covered, swallowed the pain at the back of his throat and tried very hard not to think about-
-the fact that he had fallen in love and hadn’t even realized it.
-the fact that it was all over before it had even begun.
And as the conductor announced the stop for New Orleans, Eugene let himself condense into his breathing and his heartbeat, armed with the unwavering determination of knowing.
~
Eugene could hear somebody pacing behind the door, of papers being shuffled and moved around even before he knocked on the door. And when he did knock, the sounds all stopped-and he could imagine Snafu standing there, staring at the door uncertainly because he inexplicably knew exactly who it was standing behind it.
Eugene pressed his forehead against the door, knocking again. And when yet no response came, he said very calmly, “I know you’re in there, Snafu.”
Two footsteps coming closer to the door, but it didn’t open.
“Let me in,” Eugene said very quietly-but he knew Snafu was listening to his every word.
There was a pause-the longest minute of Eugene’s life-and then a click. Eugene stepped back as the door swung open and Snafu was staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Eugene was vaguely aware that he probably looked like shit.
“We should really talk,” Eugene said, his mouth set into a grim line.
Snafu leaned up against doorframe and it became patently obvious that he wasn’t going to invite Eugene in. Behind Snafu, Eugene could see that he had a cardboard box on the ground next to the table which was cleared of the stacks of newspapers. Eugene’s jaw clenched-if he had come a day or two later, he wouldn’t have been able to find Snafu at all.
“Seems to me like we don’t have much to talk about,” Snafu said evenly, not looking at Eugene’s face but over his left shoulder.
Eugene looked at the tired slouch of his shoulders, the line between his eyebrows, the way that he couldn’t meet Eugene’s eyes and he wanted to yell in frustration, to push at him and ask why don’t you understand? He wanted to drag Snafu into the depths of his mind, show him everything that he had finally realized because he-Snafu wasn’t-couldn’t be-as heartless to discard him without a single explanation then.
“Let me make something clear,” Snafu sneered, “I’m not a fucking homosexual.” He said the last word like he was spitting it out, his drawl curling derisively around it.
“What the hell were you last night?” Eugene demanded, trying to stay calm but failing, “What the hell were you when-”
“Fuck you,” Snafu hissed and he was actually looking at Eugene now, a steely glare in his eyes, “If you’re having a fuckin’ crisis about shovin’ your dick up some cocksucker’s ass-”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Eugene half-shouted and he hadn’t realized that he had stepped forward to grab Snafu by the front of his shirt until he had already done it.
“We’re entirely different, Eugene,” Snafu said, the lilt of a mocking tone to his voice and the use of his first name was a betrayal, “I can’t imagine how we were ever friends.”
Eugene’s fist tightened in Snafu’s shirt and his eyes flashed, “What are we now?”
Snafu didn’t reply for a moment. Then he said very quietly, “Let go of my shirt. Get out of here.”
Eugene didn’t say anything. He didn’t let go either. He just stared hard at Snafu who glared back defiantly, trying to make sense of this sudden change, what the hell had made him realize that he wanted nothing to do with Eugene-
-he leaned forward and kissed Snafu, a hard bruising kiss-until Snafu shoved him away hard, causing him to crash into the railing behind him. Snafu’s eyes were unforgiving.
“I said get the fuck out,” he repeated angrily, raising his voice. And when Eugene straightened up and stepped towards him, he was met with a fist across the jaw.
Eugene hadn’t tasted his own blood since the war-still remembered the coppery tang of it, the way that all men’s blood tasted the same, bloody dirt a gritty texture across the inside of his mouth. He hadn’t really felt true pain or bone-deep weariness since the war had ended, since the last of Okinawa and he couldn’t say that the punch had hurt more than any of those-but this was an old comrade who had delivered the blow, not some nameless Japanese soldier-so maybe it meant more, cut deeper than any battle could have.
“I’ll hit you again,” Snafu said unstably, like he wasn’t quite sure how he had just managed to hit Eugene across the jaw in the first place.
Eugene touched the side of his face gingerly, raised his eyes to meet Snafu’s unreadable face and he said quietly, “I wish you wouldn’t.”
Snafu wavered for just one moment at his words before crumbling entirely. His fist dropped, and he slumped against the frame of the door, looking away, “Please, Sledge.”
“Help me understand.” There was a dull throb in his jaw and a ringing in his ears.
“It’s-” Snafu was struggling for words, “-better this way. I shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
Eugene wanted to step forward, grab him by the shoulder, anything at all.
“You should have a wife. Five kids. A house down by the waterfront,” Snafu swallowed and he wasn’t looking at Eugene at all, “Fuck if I’m any of those.”
“Jesus Snafu,” Eugene breathed.
“You deserve better than this-” Snafu said and he sounded so certain like he had been making up his mind about this for a long time-but the words came out haltingly like he couldn’t believe he was saying any of them, “I’m-I’m not right.”
There was a long stretch of silence as the words sunk in, Snafu still looking away from Eugene. Eugene could hear his own breathing as he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. He didn’t reach out to touch Snafu, but he was barely a foot away from him.
“Who the hell gave you the authority to make decisions for me?” the tone of his voice was sharp but it was quiet, like they were holding a private conversation in a crowded room, “Don’t give me any of your self worth bullshit. I respect you too much to listen to any of that.” Snafu didn’t turn his head, didn’t look at Eugene.
“I’m not fucking stupid Snafu,” Eugene continued on, managing to sound vaguely offended, “I know what the hell I got myself into. What made you think I wanted anything else?”
Snafu finally turned his head to look at Eugene and there was a real terror in the depths of his eyes like staring down enemy fire, the shrill of shells. Like looking into something deep and wide and being afraid to jump.
“If this is what you want,” Eugene said and there was no waver in his voice, “Then you have me.”
~
If flying meant crashing and bruising, if it meant burning up too close to the sun, in metal machines amongst a storm of gunfire, with wax wings in the golden wash of the morning sun-if it meant anything worth wanting-
-maybe it’d be okay after all.
______
please see the master post for continuations/supplements