{"id":690,"date":"2012-11-12T21:21:59","date_gmt":"2012-11-12T20:21:59","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/pr0nandchocolate.net\/fiction\/?p=690"},"modified":"2012-11-12T21:21:59","modified_gmt":"2012-11-12T20:21:59","slug":"after-the-funeral","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/shirasade.net\/fiction\/after-the-funeral\/","title":{"rendered":"After the Funeral"},"content":{"rendered":"

Author's Note:<\/strong> 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.<\/p>\n

For Amy, because without her I wouldn't have gone to see the play.
\n***<\/p>\n

Joe was fucked. Completely. First the beer thing, then Parry\u2019s 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\u2019d given so much for. And wasn\u2019t that just another can of worms Joe really did not want to think of.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d been doing so well - sneaking out, hooking up with birds (and hadn\u2019t 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\u2019d lost track of so much. But at least there\u2019d still been Keith.<\/p>\n

An increasingly angry Keith, frustrated with the doctors and their psychobabble, but there\u2019d still been those moments when they\u2019d looked at each other and Joe had almost felt alive again. It used to be he was the one who\u2019d take care of Keith, but ever since Parry it had been Keith who got a hold of Joe when he\u2019d been staring at the wall for too long. Joe hadn\u2019t properly noticed before, but now, as he was tearing off his black suit, he remembered it all too clearly.<\/p>\n

Keith\u2019s hands on his body, his stubbly cheek against neck, his lilting Belfast voice in his ear... He\u2019d always been a talker, especially when Joe had gotten his hands on Keith\u2019s dick, had stroked him just so. They hadn\u2019t 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\u2019d had left.<\/p>\n

And now it was gone, all gone, and he was still in this bloody place. Even Ian would be leaving soon, and he\u2019d still be stuck here, the last little soldier boy. Joe was so fucked.<\/p>\n

End notes:<\/strong> 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.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Joe was fucked.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_s2mail":"yes","footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[143,16],"tags":[295,299],"series":[],"class_list":["post-690","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-joekeith","category-jonathan-lewis-our-boys","tag-audience-teen","tag-genre-slash"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/shirasade.net\/fiction\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/690","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/shirasade.net\/fiction\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/shirasade.net\/fiction\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shirasade.net\/fiction\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shirasade.net\/fiction\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=690"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/shirasade.net\/fiction\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/690\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/shirasade.net\/fiction\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=690"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shirasade.net\/fiction\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=690"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shirasade.net\/fiction\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=690"},{"taxonomy":"series","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shirasade.net\/fiction\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/series?post=690"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}