It helps that the nature of the injury was traumatic. Hearing Thomas scream through the leather strap between his teeth as his leg was sawed off would have haunted the dreams of a stranger, let alone a dear friend.
He shakes his head. This conversation feels so casual, Raju sprawled out in his lap, the two of them laughing and joking. It feels good, even if the conversation's taken on a more philosophical nature now.
"Plenty of men are pricks," he says with a snort. "I've had my fair share of moments, don't mistake me, but I'd like to think my baser instincts are to be civil, if not kind."
Raju makes another one of those relaxed, wordless noises, thinking and still studying Francis, fascinated. The idea of Francis as he is now taking work to be that way is strange. Maybe it shouldn't be, but it is. "What were you like before? It's hard to imagine you anything but kind, the way you are now."
"Oh, yes?" That also sounds so strange to him, only ever being known as this creature. "All you need to do is have a frank conversation with Little or Irving. Gibson will probably tell you, Jopson if he's pressed."
But before that. Before those months in the ice when he'd gotten too ill to think straight.
"I was envious, and bitter," he admits, just a little more quietly than before. "I saw what others had and I wanted it for myself, and it was humiliating to feel that way. I loathed myself for it."
Crozier shakes his head a little. "And then of course there's the melancholy, quieter in my youth but unchecked after Antarctica. As the years ticked by it made me...difficult to be around. So I imagine. Then when I let the whiskey take full hold over me, I was cruel and jaded, and worst of all, indifferent. I'm certain you would have loathed me."
He's still surprised that Blanky and Jopson had stayed so loyal when he'd been nothing but abusive to them both during the worst of it.
“No,” Raju says, not giving either of them a moment to think about it, in that moment very certain. Maybe he hasn’t thought about it. But Francis has heard the worst of Raju and stayed through all of it; Raju should be able to do the same, if it ever came down to knowing the man Francis used to be, somehow. Besides: “The core of a good, kind man was always there. You wouldn’t have been able to grow into him later if it wasn’t there already. I would have seen that.”
In this Raju is very certain, too. Of course he would have. Maybe things would have been different, but he would have seen the kind of man Francis is underneath the rest, even if it was deep underneath. Raju isn’t blind.
He laughs quietly; Raju is so adamant, how can he not trust him? He admires his judge of character; perhaps if they’d known each other all those years ago he would count Raju among his closest friends, even when he was the worst version of himself.
“If you had known me then you could have knocked some sense into me.”
"I can do that," he grins. "Would it have done you any good? Your pride must have been more fragile then than it is now, I can't imagine you'd have thanked me for it."
“I would have tried to punch you.” His gaze falls back onto his face, his lovely eyes, and he laughs. He’d tried to punch Fitzjames and he’d loved those eyes too.
“But it might have helped. Lord knows I needed a rude awakening.”
"Mm. Sometimes a good brawl does help." He pauses, reconsidering. "Not for us, I suppose. Or maybe just not about this, or with that odd fog in the air."
It's easy to talk about fighting with Francis lightly now, with Francis' hand in his hair and his legs under Raju's hand and head, and the contentment glowing inside him makes it easy to grin as he goes on. "Maybe we can try it next time, see if a punch or two clears things up at all."
"That fight was hardly cathartic," he agrees. That brawl wasn't satisfying in any way; it wasn't as though they needed to get that all off their chests. Thankfully it had seemed to lead to something positive - this moment between them, a casual conversation about important things.
"Next time I start acting like a twat go ahead and knock me on my arse. I give you full permission." He doesn't think he'll need the second punch - he's seen Raju without his shirt, he knows those muscles could fully knock him the hell out if he's allowed to let loose.
"Mm." This time the noise is a displeased one, wrinkles pulling between Raju's brow. He considers it, shifts against Francis' lap, rubs his thumb back and forth over Francis' leg. "Tell me that again when we're arguing. I'm sure I'll like it better then. Don't think I would have this time either, anyway. You were... concerned, that's all. And not yourself, if your theory's right."
He gives Francis' leg a couple fond pats, smiling again. "We'll save it for the right moment. You can let me know."
Crozier wants very much to take the pad of his thumb and smooth those wrinkles away.
"This time surely wouldn't count. It it came to blows it wouldn't have been very sporting." But he's almost certain his theory is correct now, just by the way they'd fallen back into their typical easy exchange. The source of his anger hadn't been Raju - and it hadn't really been anger to begin with, but a slow, lingering feeling that the world was closing in and control was slipping away from him.
"I will, I will." He chuckles again and finally pulls his hand back from Raju's hair. He's done all he could with it; it's washed and dried and fixed up, and Raju looks once more perfectly coifed. He thinks quietly that it's a bit of a shame, that. It's a strange thing to want a friend to be dirty again, but here Francis Crozier is, wishing for more goddamned mud.
Raju heaves a breath, smiling upward. Francis’ hand is gone, which means maybe they’re done; Raju is so full with contentment now, and still lying here with his friend’s strong thighs and bodyheat beneath him besides, that the idea is hard to mind. It’s hard to really mind anything. “Back to it, hm?”
He twists to look toward the table and the goods still waiting to be put away. “Nothing on there that won’t keep, though.”
Minding is different from liking things exactly where you’re at. They could stay here a while more and Raju wouldn’t complain.
“Nothing that won’t keep,” Crozier smiles, happy to not be the only one reluctant to move.
They can get up and around later, the chores will still be there, that awful green fog that lights up the parts of their brains itching for a fight. For now this just seems a better use of their time.
He decides to tell a story about his time with Parry and the sick Netsilik, and how his trekking back and forth across the island with the elderly and children in tow had earned him an Inuit nickname. He hopes for a story in return, real or imagined, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the continued smile on Raju’s face and the lightness behind his eyes.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-06-17 02:44 am (UTC)It helps that the nature of the injury was traumatic. Hearing Thomas scream through the leather strap between his teeth as his leg was sawed off would have haunted the dreams of a stranger, let alone a dear friend.
He shakes his head. This conversation feels so casual, Raju sprawled out in his lap, the two of them laughing and joking. It feels good, even if the conversation's taken on a more philosophical nature now.
"Plenty of men are pricks," he says with a snort. "I've had my fair share of moments, don't mistake me, but I'd like to think my baser instincts are to be civil, if not kind."
no subject
Date: 2024-06-17 12:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-06-17 03:09 pm (UTC)"Oh, yes?" That also sounds so strange to him, only ever being known as this creature. "All you need to do is have a frank conversation with Little or Irving. Gibson will probably tell you, Jopson if he's pressed."
But before that. Before those months in the ice when he'd gotten too ill to think straight.
"I was envious, and bitter," he admits, just a little more quietly than before. "I saw what others had and I wanted it for myself, and it was humiliating to feel that way. I loathed myself for it."
Crozier shakes his head a little. "And then of course there's the melancholy, quieter in my youth but unchecked after Antarctica. As the years ticked by it made me...difficult to be around. So I imagine. Then when I let the whiskey take full hold over me, I was cruel and jaded, and worst of all, indifferent. I'm certain you would have loathed me."
He's still surprised that Blanky and Jopson had stayed so loyal when he'd been nothing but abusive to them both during the worst of it.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-17 07:38 pm (UTC)In this Raju is very certain, too. Of course he would have. Maybe things would have been different, but he would have seen the kind of man Francis is underneath the rest, even if it was deep underneath. Raju isn’t blind.
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Date: 2024-06-17 11:49 pm (UTC)He laughs quietly; Raju is so adamant, how can he not trust him? He admires his judge of character; perhaps if they’d known each other all those years ago he would count Raju among his closest friends, even when he was the worst version of himself.
“If you had known me then you could have knocked some sense into me.”
no subject
Date: 2024-06-18 02:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-06-18 11:41 am (UTC)“I would have tried to punch you.” His gaze falls back onto his face, his lovely eyes, and he laughs. He’d tried to punch Fitzjames and he’d loved those eyes too.
“But it might have helped. Lord knows I needed a rude awakening.”
no subject
Date: 2024-06-18 12:23 pm (UTC)It's easy to talk about fighting with Francis lightly now, with Francis' hand in his hair and his legs under Raju's hand and head, and the contentment glowing inside him makes it easy to grin as he goes on. "Maybe we can try it next time, see if a punch or two clears things up at all."
no subject
Date: 2024-06-18 01:56 pm (UTC)"That fight was hardly cathartic," he agrees. That brawl wasn't satisfying in any way; it wasn't as though they needed to get that all off their chests. Thankfully it had seemed to lead to something positive - this moment between them, a casual conversation about important things.
"Next time I start acting like a twat go ahead and knock me on my arse. I give you full permission." He doesn't think he'll need the second punch - he's seen Raju without his shirt, he knows those muscles could fully knock him the hell out if he's allowed to let loose.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-18 03:09 pm (UTC)He gives Francis' leg a couple fond pats, smiling again. "We'll save it for the right moment. You can let me know."
no subject
Date: 2024-06-18 03:33 pm (UTC)Crozier wants very much to take the pad of his thumb and smooth those wrinkles away.
"This time surely wouldn't count. It it came to blows it wouldn't have been very sporting." But he's almost certain his theory is correct now, just by the way they'd fallen back into their typical easy exchange. The source of his anger hadn't been Raju - and it hadn't really been anger to begin with, but a slow, lingering feeling that the world was closing in and control was slipping away from him.
"I will, I will." He chuckles again and finally pulls his hand back from Raju's hair. He's done all he could with it; it's washed and dried and fixed up, and Raju looks once more perfectly coifed. He thinks quietly that it's a bit of a shame, that. It's a strange thing to want a friend to be dirty again, but here Francis Crozier is, wishing for more goddamned mud.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-18 07:20 pm (UTC)He twists to look toward the table and the goods still waiting to be put away. “Nothing on there that won’t keep, though.”
Minding is different from liking things exactly where you’re at. They could stay here a while more and Raju wouldn’t complain.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-18 08:56 pm (UTC)“Nothing that won’t keep,” Crozier smiles, happy to not be the only one reluctant to move.
They can get up and around later, the chores will still be there, that awful green fog that lights up the parts of their brains itching for a fight. For now this just seems a better use of their time.
He decides to tell a story about his time with Parry and the sick Netsilik, and how his trekking back and forth across the island with the elderly and children in tow had earned him an Inuit nickname. He hopes for a story in return, real or imagined, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the continued smile on Raju’s face and the lightness behind his eyes.