The eyes of a familiar compound ghost
Paddy was floating in a black void. He looked at his arm and there it was, as it had always been for the last twenty years or so, the tattoo that had started it all.
Suddenly he was back on that day in August,
Paddy had met him at the wedding of Jock Lewis and his soon to be wife Mirren. He hadn’t wanted to go, truth be told but something had to change, he couldn’t just sulk in his apartment for the rest of his life, as David had put it, he had to get out into the real world.
What his dear friend David Stirling didn’t know was that Paddy had tried, loads of times to “get back into the real world”, had tried meeting new people and even went on a few dates that ended in nothing but disappointment, nothing worked. Whenever that tingling feeling that told him “this one might be it”, started to creep into Paddy’s gut, the only thing he could see was that broad smile and those dark eyes with crows feet at the corners he had loved so much.
“You have to forget about Eoin” David had said one night when they were drinking together “you have to bury him in your head and move on”. As if it was that simple when your boyfriend of seven years dies in a fiery wreck on the side of the road that turned said boyfriend into dust. That fact had hit Paddy the hardest, that there was nothing left to bury, it left an uncertainty he couldnt quite place.
But now Paddy was on his way to Jocks and Mirrens wedding, because Lewis was a good man and Paddy couldn’t just not go no matter how much he’d rather stay at home and just go to bed early.
...
It was warm outside for once, the summer had been unusually rainy but today it was really nice, good for Jock and Mirren with the wedding taking place outside. Paddy looked up at the swallows doing their acrobatics high up in the clear evening air and he let himself relax a bit, who knows this might be fun, he didnt really believe that but though.
...
At the wedding he saw a lot of familliar faces but just as many new ones. Paddy got into a few conversations here and there, mostly to be polite, but he had to begrudgingly admit to himself that it was actually quite nice to catch up with his old friends, some of which he hadnt met in years.
Mirren, coming from france originally, had invited lots of people from the other side of the canal and there were conversations in both english and french taking place, somewhere in the lively buzzing of the croud Paddy could swear he heard a couple of german accents too.
Paddy looked out over all the heads and hats and much to his delight, spotted his old collage friend Mike Sadler a couple of tables away. Mike was always fun to talk to and Paddy quickly waltzed over and struck up a conversation, eager to have SOMETHING to do. Mike was an entertaining person with a lot of ideas and keeping a conversation going was easy, Paddy also noted the curious glances his friend recieved from women and even a couple of men around them. This wasnt anything new, Mike was handsome, anyone could see that, and shaved, combed and dressed in a tuxedo as he was now he could easily fit on the front of any magazine.
...
The ceremony took place on the gigantic lawn of the Barford estate and the color of choice( or maybe theme, Paddy didn’t know) was a sandy beige, the same color as the Barford mansion, a bit odd maybe but it gave everything a nice warm feeling and suited the newly wed couple and their overall style perfectly. There were round tables instead of rows of pews placed in front of the little stage where the lucky couple would be later that evening and placed on every table was a single red flower in a little vase.
...
When the ceremony was over Paddy planned on having a few drinks with the other guests just to be polite, wish the newly weds their best luck then get a cab and head home to his warm bed.
He was sitting by the bar with a scotch and waited for the clock to turn nine, a time when it would hopefully be socially acceptable to ditch it and go home. Darkness had fallen over the grand estate but the warmth of the day still hung in the air. Paddy was just about to down the last of his drink and call it a day when he heard a voice to his right.
“T.S Elliot huh?” surprised, Paddy turned his head to the unknown voice “Pardon?”
“Was never a fan really” the man continued “i think im more of a Gertrude Stein type of guy” That was when Paddys brain caught up, the man was referring to his tattoo!
It was an old tattoo, one of the first he ever got as a teenager and it read: “the eyes of a familiar compound ghost, both intimate and unidentifiable” in cursive black writing. Paddy had earlier during the evening rolled up the sleeves of his white button up and the tattoo was clearly visable against his right forearm.
“So?” Paddy asked perhaps a bit more snarky than intended as he took in the man in front of him, tall, skinny, wearing tight black jeans that accentuated his long legs nicely and a white butten up much like himself.
“You like poetry, if im not mistaken?” The man continued, he had a slight french accent Paddy noted, probably a friend of Mirrens then?
“No this is just something a cab driver once told when i was pissed and on my way home from the pub” Paddy answered sarcastically but it only earned him an amused huff from the other.
“My name is Augustin Jordan” the man(Augustin) offered his hand “-and whom do i have the pleasure?” Paddy took the outstretched hand in his “Paddy Mayne” he said, still a bit unsure of where this conversation was going.
Paddy looked down at their hands, the man (Augustin he reminded himself) had really nice hands, that was for sure. Smooth skin, long and slender fingers almost like a womans and a delicate wrist that would probably look good pressed against the dark, polished wood of his headboard- no!
Paddy violently pushed the thought away, he wasn’t here at Jocks wedding to get company for the night, he was here to get a few drinks and then head straight home and get to bed, that was it.
´But it HAD been a while since last time he had someone else to keep his bed warm´, an unhealpful little voice in the back of his mind piped up. It had been two years more precisely, a handjob behind a bar here and there, sure, but nothing more, not after Eoin.
“You’re irish right?” Augustin let go of his hand and sat down on the barstool next to Paddy, this man clearly wasnt going to let him leave that easily so paddy decided to have a bit of fun with the situation.
“And you are french” he stated matter of factly, in french, Augustin looked a bit surprised by this. “So the irishman can speak french huh?”he mused, obviously a bit impressed in french and leaned closer on his elbow, the language sounded nice coming from the man's lips.
“Are you just going to state the obvious all night or are you actually going to say something interesting because if not then i have a cab that is waiting to take me home”
“The night is young still-” Augustin gave a mischievous look “-who knows what it might bring?”
...
The night went on and one conversation led to another, it was easy talking to Augustin and for some reason it wasnt Eoin’s face Paddy saw when he looked into the bright blues of the mans eyes. The encounter gave ended in a wild night with the promise of many more to come and the realization that yes, those beautiful slender wrists actually did look dashing pinned against the dark wood of Paddys headboard, a nice contrast indeed.
...
Paddy woke up to warm rays of gentle sunlight seeping in through the window and through his eyelids, why hadnt he closed the blinds last night, stupid. Still in the warm haze of sleep he tried to reach for the last remaining strands of his dream but it slipped between his fingers like smoke and was gone in an instant.
Stretching a little and turning away from the offending light he tried to sink back asleep again but soon found the task impossible, so with a huff Paddy gave up and slowly rose to a sitting position, careful not to wake his bedmate. He looked at his wristwatch to check what time it was and saw his tattoo as he did so. “The eyes of a-” yeah yeah, Paddy already knew what the cursive black writing said, having memorised it by heart. It was his favourite line from T.S. Elliot’s “Little Gidding”.
A detail from his dream came back to him, the tattoo had played a certain role in it had it not? But Paddy couldnt for the life of him remember what had transpired in his head that night. Well well, he sighed, if he couldnt remember then it probably wasnt too interesting to begin with.
He looked out the window then at the contour of the sleeping body on his left, how had he gotten this lucky?
In the gentle morning sun Augustin looked almost etherial with the warm light catching on his lashes fanned out against his pale cheeks and curly, dark hair, making it shine like a halo of gold. He truly was a sight for sore eyes.
Of cours it wanst just the beauty of this man that had ended him up in Paddys bed on the night of Jock Lewis´ wedding almost a year ago, but rather his charm, his laughter that bubbled almost like a creek and most of all his overwhelming intelligence. Paddy had never met someone like Augustin before. High spirited and optimistic but not afraid to touch on the heavier subjects of life and oh so clever, he was intoxicating in the words rightful meaning. The thing that had drawn Paddy in most though was the slight cockyness of this man, too many people were unnecessarily polite and overly sweet but not Augustin. Not afraid to speak his mind and come with snarky remarks it was like the pinch of salt in a chocholate cake that instead of ruining the experience only emphasized and balanced the other flavours even more. Maybe i should try and write a wee bit about him, Paddy thought to himself ,after all, there is no shortage of things to wax poetically about .
The soft rustling of sheets pulled Paddy out of his little bubble and he looked down to his left where Augustin, now more or less awake, screwed his eyes shut against the sun and wrinkled his nose with a groan. He yawned and stretched like a cat only to roll over on his front with his face buried in the pillow, making the bedsheets slide down and revealing pale shoulders adorned with a few birthmarks. Paddy smiled, god this man really did something to him. Slowly he leaned down to press a kiss to the exposed shoulder.
“Morning~” he wispered against the warm skin. Augustin turned his head to the side, still with his eyes closed and grumbled a“morning” that earned him a snorted laugh from the other. “Sleep well?” Paddy asked as he trailed little pecks from the others shoulder all the way up to his forehead.
“I had a funny dream”
“Oh, do tell”
“I dreamt that you and I were in the SAS and Cooper and Essner and Grapes and all of them were there too” Augustin mumbled. Paddy threw a glance over at his boyfriends bedside table, there along with the round glasses, a book with the title “SAS: Rogue Heroes” lay opened with the cover up. He smiled.
“That would have been somethin huh? You, a professor in philosophy, in the military, how would that work out?” Augustin opened his eyes and turned around on his back, making the bed dip slightly. Paddy took in the sight of his chest and felt a bit of sadistic pride in his own, it was mottled in angry purple hickeys and bitemarks, “not above the collar” was the policy. What would Augustin’s students say if he came to a lecture with his neck covered in hickeys, the thought was enticing but Paddy respected the boundry enough to keep his ministrations out of sight.
“Who knows, maybe I’d be incredible at killing nazis.” Augustin looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully “maybe it was a memory from another life?” the last part said as if to himself.
Paddy hummed and absentmindedly let his hand smooth down the planes of Augustins chest, then his abs until it settled on his lower stomach, feeling the muscles move slightly under the cream-colored skin.
“Even if we were born in another time, do you think we would still find each other?” Augustin turned his head to look at Paddy. This type of conversation was an everyday occurence in their little household and Paddy loved every second of it.
“What is it that you are saying, do you really think you could hide from me just by jumping timelines?” Paddy chuckled and heaved himself up on his arms so that he towered over the other on the bed,.
Augustin gave one of the arms that caged him in a playful smack “Come on you know that’s not what I-” but before he could finish Paddy captured his lips in a deep kiss that made him let out a soft gasp.
When they finally parted, Paddy looked deep into the blue eyes of the man under him.
“My dear philosopher, you could live a thousand different lives in a thousand different places and I would still find you every single time” and he really felt like that, he would do anything for this intelligent, kind, beautiful and bratty man. Call it whatever you like, love? Fate? The result of being at the right place at the right time? Something else?
“And how would you find me hmm?” Augustin mused.
“As long as your beautiful eyes stay the same I will always be able to find you” Paddy gave him another peck on the lips.
“The eyes of a familiar compound ghost?”
“Yup”
Notes: my first ever fanfic posted! I wrote this bad boy in one sitting and it took me about nine hours. I have reread it like five times and tried to get rid of any typos but there will undoubtedly still be some hiding in there. I wanted to include a lot more of the SAS gang but in the end I accepted that this was going to be a Paddy x Augustin fic. It has been a while since I last wrote any fanfic at all and it probs show, the pacing is a bit odd in the beginning but I feel like it gets smoother as the fic goes on. I don’t have an account on AO3 so if anyone would like to copy this text and post it there I’d be thrilled. Just mention me somewhere and I’m happy. I wasn’t comfortable enough to try and actually translate any of the french because I felt like there were many places where the translation would have failed its original content. I will post this before I chicken out.
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