likeroaringlions | (no subject)

(no subject)

Jamie had suggested going to the woods, but it's too fucking cold to sit in the woods and drink, so William makes for the stables instead. There's a little room there with a spare bed and a stove, some books: a snug place to hole up with a couple of bottles of wine.

He takes a good long pull from his bottle and waits to see if Jamie wants to speak first.

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"Hope that's the last we see of him," Jamie mutters after a few moments of silence, after he can't think of any better way to broach the subject.

"He's--" Ugh. William takes another drink of wine. He's not so bad, he'd been going to say, but yeah, he is so bad. "Sometimes he's all right," he says eventually. "But fuck him. Fuck him, alongside everyone else."

"You keep saying so, saying he's alright, and you've no got one story to prove it!" Jamie bursts out, frustrated.

"Well, what am I supposed to say? Sometimes he's all right! To talk to. He showed me how to drive a motorbike, you know what that is? He knows things. When he's in the mood he'll talk to me like I'm worth fucking talking to."

William sits on the edge of the bed and eyes Jamie warily. "He's not worth fighting about."

"He thinks he's got you twisted 'round his finger-- you think you can trust somebody like that?" It probably isn't worth fighting about, but just now it feels like it is.

"Christ no." He shakes his head. Which makes it hurt. "Christ no, I don't trust him. He's just someone to talk to, he has ideas--I don't fucking know. Anyway, he's no here now, is he? Just you and me."

"Aye, you and me and him if he fancies, offering wine, trying to wind me up--" He leans in. "If it's you and me-- if it's you and me, anybody you go bringing along, I've got, too. We've got enough like him back home, don't we?"

William looks a bit stricken and nods. "All right...all right, that's fair enough. I willny say Och I'll never speak a word to him again, but..." He's not sure what he'll do different, but if it's a matter of Jamie's trust--

"Christ there's a lot of fucking bastards in the world." He flops down, leaning on his elbow, half curled. "...if anyone I bring along you've got too, does that mean anyone you bring along I've got too? Like if you get a pretty wee French queen tae yer bed..." Joking, they can do joking, right?

"But why no?" Jamie demands. "I mean it, William-- I mean, Christ, your dad's one thing-- canny be rid of him-- but how many times do you have tae stick your hand in a fire before you learn it burns?"

That's a no on the joking, then. Which he had sort of expected really, but it was worth a shot.

"Let's not talk about my dad right now," he says quietly. "Just...you dinny understand how things are with him. And what else am I doing that's so wrong?"

"I'm no--" Oh, forget it. "I wish you wouldny get so friendly with that Jim. I wish he didny think he knows me so well because he's been talking with you."

"He doesn't know anything about you--come on, you know that. I don't talk about you with him, he just, he's clever. It's what he does, him and his friend, they're...clever. Busy being the cleverest people in the world or something." William laughs a bit. "No one's ever accused me of that, right?"

Edited 2016-11-21 21:37 (UTC)

"But he thinks he does, thinks he's got you all sorted out and me, too!" Jamie lets out a frustrated breath. "You canny see-- you really canny see why I don't--?"

"I see it, but--christ, I'm allowed to talk to other people now and again!" He sits up again. "Anyway, he's dead, it's not like he's going to pop into Stirling and tell all your secrets--all the ones he doesn't even know, because I'm not fucking telling him anything."

William scrubs his face, which, again, ow. Ow, ow. He probes his temple with careful fingertips. "But fine, right, you think I like doing stupid things, you're probably right. No one ever got far without trying an idiot thing or two. Well." A humorless laugh. "Except my dad. Never puts a foot wrong, him, is that how I should be?"

Edited 2016-11-21 21:54 (UTC)

But that's as far as he's willing to push it. "Do as you like. It's no for me to-- do as you like."

"Aye, I will." But it's said quietly, a bit tiredly: not a note of defiance. "Jamie, can we no just...get drunk and..."

Oh, what's it matter? They're just kids. Another adult trying to get his hands in, use them for something? Well, add him to the list.

"Aye, we can. We can."

"It is just you and me."

He tilts his head back for a long, long drink from the bottle; when he's done he's more than a little glassy-eyed. "You'd no tell your wee wifey about this place, would you?"

"What d'you have to keep going on about her for?" He's trying to forget everything about last night, including the fact that he now has a wee French-ish wife.

William laughs and holds up a hand. "All right! No more about her, forget her. D'you want to go hunting again tomorrow?"

Jamie nods. "It's my fucking wedding! All week!"

"Damn right! That's the fucking way to do it! Gonny hunt every day and get drunk every night, that's how a king ought to live."

He closes his eyes and scoots back to lean his head against the wall behind the bed.

Jamie nods. "Aye. While we can."

"No reason to stop any time soon."

He gives Jamie a tentative nudge with his knee. "Speaking of which, drink up! You're letting me get ahead of you, man."

Jamie laughs. "Alright, alright."

"My heid's fair killing me, I might as well add a hangover on top of that--but I'm no suffering alone! Come on, we'll be a right pair in the morning."

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