Seacliff

Chapter sixty-nine: Zeus and Ganymede

1940

"Why would you do this? After what I... You're a university student, Aidan, you'd be a fool to give that up to go to war."

The roar of a plane overhead ripped through the infinite blackness of the night.

"Do you think I could just stay behind and study those silly Greeks while you're away somewhere, getting shot at? Jemmy..." He cupped the boy's face. "Jemmy, we're thick as thieves. Joined at the hip. Tweedledum and Tweedledee."

Bombs screeched as they dropped from the sky like falling stars doomed to hell.

Jemmy blushed, looking away while he held onto Aidan's wrists. "I like the joined-at-the-hip part best."

A soft chuckle preceded an even softer kiss as Aidan leaned in and captured his lover's lips. Jemmy closed his eyes and sighed. His body angled towards Aidan's by instinct, their chests pressed into each other. Jem's arms wrapped around his lover's waist, while Aidan raked his fingers through the human boy's hair. Their tangle heated, limbs roaming and clashing, tongues duelling, teeth biting.

Faraway explosions dented unknown landscape.

They fell together on the bed, bare and out of breath already. As if to make up for the hurt he'd caused him, Jemmy was particularly attentive, unexpectedly tender and diligent. He kissed the selkie boy's broken heart, grazed and licked at his collarbone, traced every ridge and trail on his torso, followed the valley of his hips...

Relentless bullets in the distance, like a woodpecker battering bark.

"Tell me," he begged Aidan, "tell me, what should I do? Tell me how you want me. I was so spiteful... So unfair... And yet, you've come back to me... I owe you everything. Everything that I am, I – "

Piercing screams, either soldiers or civilians, children crying.

Aidan rose and silenced his lover with a kiss, slowly guiding him to lie down as their lips melded. He hovered above Jemmy's thin frame, tan and wiry from all the fieldwork he'd had to do since he was big enough to hold a tool. Jem used to be the stronger one when they were children, but a lifetime of regular swimming and his selkie genes had bulked up Aidan's physique to enviable proportions. Jemmy now felt so fragile to him, precious and prone to break if not handled with care.

Houses on fire, crumbling into the dirt they'd been built out of.

"Whenever you're ready, Jem," he murmured in the boy's ear, nuzzling his neck.

Jemmy tightened his hold and arched his back into him. "I'm all yours, A." A hungry kiss on Aidan's shoulder. "Always... always..."

More bombs, more bullets, more screaming, more fire... more, more, more...

Their stamina depleted, yet their hearts full, the two boys lay cocooned together, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Jemmy's head was pillowed on Aidan's arm, who tousled his lover's damp locks.

Their legs entwined like overgrown vines, their hips glued together. Jem curled up at Aidan's chest, his arms folded between their bodies. Aidan's free hand brushed the protruding bones of Jemmy's spine, his lips occasionally pecking his temple, lulling him to sleep.

Aidan jolted awake, gasping, then yawning. He slapped his face to scare the sleep away. He couldn't afford to doze off, not with Jemmy wheezing on his lap. Beads of sweat clung to the human boy's forehead, a sign that his fever was still raging. There was nothing Aidan could do, except witness his soulmate shiver in agony.

Jemmy whimpered and Aidan hurried to hush him. Frowning, Jem attempted to sit up. Aidan hoisted the boy upright and propped him against the wall. He had found a vacant, half-standing house to take shelter in, miles after leaving the church.

"So... Corporal Mortimer..." Jemmy gulped, struggling to keep his eyes open. "May... Private Mac have a cigarette?"

Aidan shook his head, smiling. "Hell of a corporal, aren't I?" He dug the pack of smokes out of Jem's pocket. "I couldn't make my own unit listen to me."

Jemmy cupped his fingers against the breeze as Aidan lit the cigarette.

He drew in a breath, coughing out smoke. "Are we... are we in Norway?"

Aidan touched his friend's forehead. It felt hot even to his already-warm hand.

"No, we're in France," Aidan answered. "I escaped from Norway on a kayak. Found my way back to you." He reached up to lace their fingers. "Now, rest up, Jem. We'll have to start running again in a bit, lie down and rest until then, all right?"

"Happy... birr..." Jemmy gave him a hazy smile through the smoke and coughed again. "Happy... birthday," he hummed, "to... you..."

Aidan's heart clenched. "Jem..."

"Is it... is it June yet?"

"Yes, just about. I think. Must be the first or the second. Maybe the third."

Jemmy exhaled a heavy breath. "Ah, well, then... I won't make it."

"Don't say that," Aidan chided him, tears tightening his throat. "Don't say that, Jem."

Jemmy licked his parched lips. Aidan held the flask of water to his mouth. The injured boy pushed it away.

"I won't... not to mid-June, at least. Will you, um..." He sucked in more tobacco. "You ought to... to throw my kit away and make a run... for it."

Jemmy's chest rose and fell as he strained to breathe and speak at the same time.

"Before... you do," a dry swallow, "look in my... my bag... you'll... see it."

Clearing his throat, Aidan picked up Jemmy's bag and rummaged around. Nothing of note inside, until his fingers brushed something like smooth, lacquered wood. He fished it out and shone his flashlight on it.

It was a small jewellery box, painted black and gold, reminiscent of Uncle Natsume's cabinets. The lid was decorated with a Greek-like design – a handsome, bare-chested man, his bottom half wrapped in robes, holding out a wine cup into which a scantily-clothed youth poured liquid.

"Zeus and Ganymede?" Aidan guessed.

Jemmy managed half a shrug. "My... take on it, at any... rate."

"Jem..."

The boy's fingers twitched, beckoning Aidan. He took Jemmy's hand, raised it to his mouth, kissed it, and held it to his chest.