After the Funeral

Author's Note: I saw "Our Boys" in London in November 2012, starring Laurence Fox as Joe, Cian Barry as Keith and Arthur Darvill as Parry, and I was majorly touched by it. Warning: This ficlet contains some major spoilers! See the end for some more spoiler-y notes.

For Amy, because without her I wouldn't have gone to see the play.
***

Joe was fucked. Completely. First the beer thing, then Parry's betrayal and his own subsequent meltdown. And now Keith. Fucking Keith. Both of them had held on for so long, clinging to life and hope in this godforsaken place, abandoned by the country they'd given so much for. And wasn't that just another can of worms Joe really did not want to think of.

He'd been doing so well - sneaking out, hooking up with birds (and hadn't that come in handy?), supporting the guys when they needed it, being the model patient, until it had all come crashing down round his fucking ears. Keeping up pretenses had been too hard after that and somehow he'd lost track of so much. But at least there'd still been Keith.

An increasingly angry Keith, frustrated with the doctors and their psychobabble, but there'd still been those moments when they'd looked at each other and Joe had almost felt alive again. It used to be he was the one who'd take care of Keith, but ever since Parry it had been Keith who got a hold of Joe when he'd been staring at the wall for too long. Joe hadn't properly noticed before, but now, as he was tearing off his black suit, he remembered it all too clearly.

Keith's hands on his body, his stubbly cheek against neck, his lilting Belfast voice in his ear... He'd always been a talker, especially when Joe had gotten his hands on Keith's dick, had stroked him just so. They hadn't talked about it, it had just been this thing they did sometimes. No harm, no foul, right, just mates looking after one another. It had been good, Joe thought, the one good thing he'd had left.

And now it was gone, all gone, and he was still in this bloody place. Even Ian would be leaving soon, and he'd still be stuck here, the last little soldier boy. Joe was so fucked.

End notes: My favourite character was Keith, and his off-screen death really saddened me. Also, I sat in the first row and thus practically in Laurence Fox's lap during his last big scene. On the other hand, that lovely bit where Joe held Keith while he cried set off my slash alarm majorly. So this is the result.

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