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gaunt-and-hungry · 6 months

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Lá Breithe Shona Duit

(I could not blend where I wished to omit some of the content. So You get the full thing minus the nsfw content. So... Here you go. Self Indulgent Birthday Content from the 13th of October.) Summary: Ere is wished a Happy Birthday and he makes a fool of himself. After having suffered a bullet wound just a few days prior, he has been in recovery aboard the Terror due to its proximity to his own ship. -Franklin is still alive/well at this time. - Ere and Francis both have weird dreams (See the Book for Francis' strange dreaming abilities) - Ere has been providing support to the Expedition for some time and gotten to develop good relations with most of the Command. - Franklin finds him charming, polite, and pleasant and mentally has adopted him. - Usage of unusual thawing techniques in the arctic. See Heinrich Reiss. Content Warnings: Consumption of Alcohol Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (This is my self indulgent trash. Feel free to ignore) Might seem a smidge ooc here and there. Was half written whilst inebriated. I have not fully edited this piece to make it proper.

It was October 13th. Erebus’ birthday. He shied from everything offered and bowed graciously to avoid the scrutiny of the other Command. The funeral for Second Master Gillies Alexander McDonald was a dreary thing but he was praised well. Erebus had been ushered to stand beside Captain Crozier and Commander Fitzjames as Sir John Franklin droned elegantly and magnificently about the man. His proper respects were well deserved most certainly. Though the younger Captain’s side still ached from the soreness administered in the early morning.

It had been perhaps just before seven when he was finally proper to sit with Captain Crozier. Thomas Blanky was the only other soul present, breakfast a rather private affair with Captain Crozier. Erebus had entered the wardroom, Crozier and Blanky both watching him expectantly. He shimmied along the wall, biding the both a tired good morning, polite and small.

The tone was low, drawled out and accented so thickly that he froze in spot a moment, “Erebus,” Captain Crozier called, greeting him and stunning him with his name. He was pinned by that tone, eyes wide and body frozen. Francis watched the breath get caught in his lungs as he stared expectantly at the Captain. He did not know when Crozier had ever called him by his first name. “Happy Birthday,” the tone was low, a soft rumble in his chest and sultry and far less decent than it ought to be.

Flushed a brilliant crimson, Erebus went to shift along the wall, continuing to his seat, stammering embarrassingly when he collided with the wardroom wall. He pinged off of it like a loose marble before struggling to catch himself. Catching the chair, he tried to brace himself but instead found himself all left feet; tripping, he took the chair down with him, the whole piece toppling over as he made a pained ‘oof’ and smacked the wood floor, the chair askew over top his body. He laid there, limp and utterly shameful, quivering.

“Thank you, Captain,” he spoke from the floor. Crozier had risen rather quickly in the mess of Erebus’ fall, Blanky turning in his seat.

“Dear Jesus, Mary and Joseph, lad,” Francis Crozier’s tone had returned to his normal brogue, crouching to help him pick himself off the floor, “Are you alright?”

“Aye, sir. Yes, sir,” he struggled, breathing sharply as he stood. He winced, his body aching. The wounds in his right were still of course agitated, the pain of his fall seeping into the tissue. Crozier wasted no time nor effort and hoisted Erebus up himself, looping an arm around the younger man firmly. Pulled to his feet, Erebus was brilliantly flushed, embarrassment creeping up his neck and shading his cheeks ruddy red. “Sorry, sir,” he muttered, earning a reassuring pat from Crozier as he stood properly and helped himself to the chair Francis had righted. He sat, scooting himself with Blanky adjacent to him.

The Ice Master had eyed him with an expression of stunned amusement, flickering back at his long time friend who reseated himself at the side of the Captain. “I can’t say that I have ever seen a man truly head over heels before,” he laughed out. Erebus had kicked him right hard beneath the table, the ice master laughing his pain out, rubbing at his leg. Crozier simply smiled painfully, his own cheeks blushed in whatever embarrassment had been pulled from Erebus. He cleared his throat, “Anyway,” he watched Blanky with a look of surprise still, stunned as he, too, watched Erebus who seemed occupied with his hands beneath the table. The lad was clearly flustered and embarrassed beyond himself, trying to recover. “Happy you chose to join us for breakfast,” he offered a smile which Erebus returned fondly, seeming to melt a little at the gesture.

They had attended the funeral all together of course and finally returned to have Lunch. This time with all the Command. It was busy. Bustling. And sometime along the way Mr. Thomas Blanky revealed to the rest of the Company that it was, indeed, the birthday of one Erebus Nikolai Flamel. Sir John was less than pleased, congratulating him and wishing him well but having desperately needed to know that such an occasion was under his watch. James, too, was stunned, having insinuated that he could have accommodated some sort of pleasant birthday arrangement, certainly. Erebus smiled knowingly at him, a blush on his cheeks but declined the opportunity for an occasion. He did not desire to see the day turned attention towards him, having a dislike for such attentions, of course.

Erebus had accepted that notion gracefully, “I think we can arrange some time to enjoy company, yes. I would like that very much,” Fitzjames had to shift in his seat at that and smiled fondly.

“Goodness,” James scoffed over his wine, “You and Francis both are avoidant of any such ministrations,” he teased, fondly beaming. “You’ll have to allow me to make it up to you in the least, my friend,” his eye was knowing and keenly watching him, a silent plea. “I would delight in treating you.”

“How Old will you be, now, Mr. Flamel?” Sir John had asked politely, a gentle smile on his features, affectionate and adoring.

“Twenty nine, sir,” and Francis Crozier choked on his drink, swallowing hard as he brought his napkin to his lips. Everyone startled at the Captain’s visceral reaction, his eyes watery for a moment and a look of worry painting his features. He waved down their concerns.

“Twenty nine…!” Irving had exclaimed, “No offence, Erebus, but I thought you’d be older. At least thirty, I suppose. I mean… Looks can be deceiving; you still look rather young. But I thought you’d at least be my age.” He smiled gracefully, laughing softly.

“Old soul,” Sir John beamed happily, “Sofy is going to be thirty two next year,” he nodded approvingly, “If that’s of any consequence to your thoughts,” he lifted a glass at the implications.

Francis Crozier seemed tense during the lunch, his eyes flickering back and forth between Erebus and those that exchanged with him. Irving seemed fond of the man too, his posture comfortable. The reverent man seemed far more in tune with himself and social cues than he normally was. Usually tense and well reserved and far more proper, he seemed happy to converse with Erebus, asking questions about his wound and the healing. To which, Sir John himself, had commented on his strength and fortitude. Though Erebus admitted to the presence of discomfort in his side that it did not truly prevent him from much. Though, with a stern glare and clearing of his throat in a rather sharp and obstructive manner - a gesture that had the full table looking to Crozier - Erebus politely corrected himself as he submitted to the warning and ensured that he would be occupying Terror whilst he healed. It was, after all, Dr. Goodsir and McDonald who insisted on being able to provide supplemental aid in tending to the wounds. Mr. Thomas Jopson was, as well, keen to keep watch over the Queen Anne’s Captain whilst he mended from such lacerations to ensure proper rest and care.

The Erebites had left with James providing Erebus an adoring hug, enveloping his gangly arms about his smaller body and embracing him tenderly and with much affection. Reassurances were given and polite departure followed the Erebites away from the Terror only for Crozier to place a guiding and firm hand on the younger man’s shoulder, ushering him back to the wardroom where Jopson had politely brought them tea.

They had been alone together. Erebus focused on his studies and writing at the wardroom table. Mr. Blanky had reported news of the ships’ dislodgment from a pinnacle of speared ice that seemed to have latched lamprey-like against her hull. It was threatening to shred the bow if the melt did not thaw the offending attachment. When it had happened both Francis and Erebus caught their teacups, the ship itself banking sharply before bowing forwards. “Almost forgot what that felt like!” Erebus had laughed, “Looks like Mr. Blanky has freed her from her bondage to the ice,” he nodded approvingly, clambering over to the stern’s window and peering out. “We’re proper I think. Can’t see in this pitch. They need to drop anchors but I think they know that,” he added.

“Thomas will handle it. As will Leftenant Little. What is the time?”

Erebus had reached into his pocket and plucked his small watch from it, peering curiously in their Illuminator lamplight. “Almost five. The watch will change soon,” he tucked it away mindfully, shaking out his fingers.

Crozier looked up from his writing, surprised, “Oh. It’s almost supper.” Erebus returned to the table, tucking away his own writings as Francis approached him. “And I am reminded again that it is your birthday, to which I am ill prepared for.”

“Sir,” Erebus clutched his book and looked down at the foot's distance between them. Crozier was a head taller than him making him feel rather small before the Captain. “I am not one for occasions. The Blueberry Moonshine and cheesecake that Mr. Blanky brought from the Queen Anne is more than enough. I enjoy simple company and relaxing evenings for such things.”

“Well, let us have a small drink. Between the two of us then, hm?” He offered, “Your Blueberry Shine or my whiskey. Whatever you’d like of course.”

“Have you ever had blueberry moonshine, Sir?” Erebus smiled cheekily, turning to retrieve it from the wall cabinet where he had tucked it away earlier in the day.

“I confess,” He rocked a little as the ship was still settling in a gentle bow of the frigid waters. He gathered two glasses. “I have not had the pleasure of trying any moonshine,” he placed both on the wardroom table.

Erebus uncapped the jar lid, a face being made from Crozier as the younger man poured them the rich purple liquid. “Does it always come in a jar like this?”

“Aye, sir, it’s how they make it. Well, the Americans. This is what the Americans call Moonshine. A little different,” Crozier was nodding softly, eyeing his glass and the colour as he lifted it.

“Well,” he pressed his lips together, “To you. To being another year older. Lá breithe shona duit.”

Erebus tapped his glass against Croziers, giving a short bow mid waist but pausing as to not agitate the injury to his person. He muttered a soft whispering ‘thank you’ and slammed back the liquid. The burn was as beautiful and graceful, lively and thick on his tongue as he hoped. Sugary and sweet tartness of blueberries met his taste buds and ran down the back of his throat, his swallow easy and a rich pleasure. His cheeks warmed at the simple joy of it.

However, Crozier struggled, giving a rough cough as he brought the back of his hand to his lips. “Aye that’s somethin’ else,” he croaked, a soft cough coming from his chest again, “Oh Mary and Joseph,” he cursed, “That burns like fire.”

“Does it?” Erebus poured another though shorter this time and sipped and swallowed. “I’m surprised, Captain,” his lips parted in a wide grin, “You drink whiskey. Yet you think this burns? Your drink licks all the way down for me. This is smooth like butter.”

“Aye,” he watched as Erebus gave them both another slip and then capped the jar. “Your tenacity in swallowing this drink could strike fear in a man,” He laughed and accepted. Though he gave it a sip on the second chance while Erebus drank heartily of it. “It is quite sweet. Reminds me of a pudding or a pie,” he commented. “Spices and all.”

“Aye,” the younger man grinned, “They are good at that. Almost like a cobbler,” he commented, “This is a good batch. I’m quite pleased. My men spoil me.”

“Which brings me to ask you,” Francis paused tensely before tossing the rest of the drink back. “I do have something to give you. I am not good at giving gifts, I must have you know.” He shifted on the spot, pacing away from Erebus briefly.

“Oh, sir,” he replied, a pained strain in his furrowed brow as he watched Francis walk to different corners of the Wardroom. “You needn’t give me anything. Please. I am quite happy as is.”

“I would like to,” he argued, “But I must have you close your eyes for my sake. I am not very good at this,” his toothy grin widened in self depreciation, “I insist.”

Erebus obeyed, a nervous bubbling creeping through his body. “Whatever it is, I am certain that it is quite fine,” he reassured, “I hate to put the Captain out,” he could suddenly feel the warmth radiating from Francis as his footsteps came closer.

“Nonsense,” he hushed lowly. “I’m not certain what you like,” he was speaking quietly, a sheepish tone to his brogue, “But I hear you may appreciate this.”

The touch froze Erebus as one of Francis’ hands cradled the side of his neck, the other running along his jaw to hold him steady as he pressed his lips against Erebus’. The other practically crumbled in the hold, his hands snapping up to grasp tightly to the front of Crozier’s coat, clinging desperately. Francis had to catch him, the weakness in the others’ legs threatened to drag him to the floor. Erebus clung, soaking up the sensation on his lips before parting briefly. The warmth was brilliant, a fire and taste of sugared blueberries. Crozier’s lips were neither soft nor calloused but something in between and Erebus found himself parting his lips as he felt the hot dampness of a tongue asking entry and he returned the sentiment with eager openness, returning the kiss with equal measure and a heart hammering thickly in his throat. It could have been minutes or seconds, Erebus would not have known. He soaked up the raw feeling as he steadied his legs beneath him, arms finding purchase to wrap around Crozier desperately like a drowning man. The sturdy anchor of his body kept him stable, his senses absorbing as much of the man as he could muster. The raw desire to have Francis Crozier crawl beneath his skin and settle there became a burning itch.

He parted, hands still pawing at Crozier’s back for a form of stability as he collected himself. He could feel tears welling in his eyes a little. Desperate and hungry, adoring and dreamlike, he felt his heart in his throat. “Ah… Sorry. I admit I am actually quite weak for you.” He confessed, trying to give himself a little space.

“Might I,” he croaked softly, throat tight, “May I be greedy?” he asked, the tone shaking with a tense tenor like a bowstring pulled too tightly.

There was no hesitation in Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier. He leaned down and recaptured those lips, a pleasant exhale coming from the younger man. Fingers pressed into his jacket as Erebus clutched him as if he were going to dissipate into the stillness of the wardroom cabin. The creaking of the ship had brought a soothing tempo to the two of them as it rocked so softly and gently. There was wetness on Erebus’ cheeks as his shoulders shook; Francis parted from him to look at him with a brief flash of concern knitting between his brows. “Aah,” Erebus whimpered, “May I just… hold you for a bit? Please,” He was pulled into Crozier’s arms.

“Happy Birthday, Ere,” he whispered gently to him, clutching the smaller body to his tightly, mindful of his side as he did so. Sobs wracked the other’s body, his shoulders shuddering as deep breaths were taking in and out through silent sobs.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He grappled Francis’ form, a hungry and needy thing that soaked up every inch of bodily contact as if was going to mend his wounds and save his soul. He could only whisper out a litany of gratitude that faded as he buried his face into the wool of Francis’ coat.

“A certain two men suggested it. I admit I worried I would have offended you. But after this morning, well,” He gave a soft laugh that vibrated through his chest. It was a nervous thing. “It’s difficult for me to say this,” he began again, breathing deep, “You make me feel desired. My… erstwhile pursuits have never left me feeling as if I am someone to be longed. You make it easy for me to shoulder much. In the short time I have known you, the load upon my back and mind has eased.” He squeezed the body clung to him firmly. “You’ve done something. Thawed something within me. Within m’heart. Without your presence I’m occupied with fancies of my imagination and worries that haunt me. My dreams have gone to you when sleep finally drags me heavy enough to keep me in my bed. I need you to know.”

“I dream of you often, Francis,” he replied, unburying his face, “God, I think of you more than I should. It is shameful to say, but I love you. I find myself quite in love and I do not know if I can do much for it save tell you.” He kept his hands on the Captain as he finally looked at him with red and puffy eyes, face damp with tears.

Francis took the back of his sleeve and wiped away at his cheeks, “Certainly, I love you as well. Dearly. I cannot bear to think of you too far from The Terror. Any time you leave, naught five steps from my ship and disaster worries at my mind.”

Erebus laughed, smiling at the gesture as he sniffled softly, “I’m a depraved man with how much I care for you,” he confessed politely, pressing his forehead against Crozier’s chest. “I think I am feverish with it, even.”

“I propose,” Francis drawled softly rubbing his back soothingly, “We occupy this thought a little between the two of us. Keep it well stitched. Certainly Jopson can be mindful, hell he is the most discrete of any man I know. And we will see where this current carries?” It was an open question. It was an open invitation. It was an opportunity presenting itself before the two of them with honesty and mutual adoration.

“I would like that very much,” Erebus nodded. “I would like that very much for my Birthday and the days to come.”

#my writing #writing blog #the terror #francis crozier #original terror characters #original character insert #francis crozier x original character #feel free to scroll past this as a whole #dead dove do not eat #self indulgent fic #Edit: Shit correct McDonalds name to MacBean

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