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[holyposition]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

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t.laughlin

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[mygoodsir]

He is probably the only person here who understands the dosage of modern medicines if it isn't written down somewhere. I'll not lose access to that information. If that means letting him get in a few punches, fine. I've outlived worse than him.

But it gets so tiresome, Tim.

[holyposition]

We have books for that. Respect has to go both ways. If he needs your help enough to call you out publicly, he should act like it.

This isn't the Navy. You don't have to take any mistreatment that you don't deserve.

[mygoodsir]

Books can be burnt.

Do you think it is a failing, then? To accept it. It feels as though perhaps people think I deserve it.

[holyposition]

The library is self-healing.

I don't think it's a failing to want to keep the peace. But we all managed before Strange showed up, if he can't handle you standing up to him, we'll continue to manage just fine.

Who's saying that?

[mygoodsir]

Yet here we are without full access.

I did. [Once!]

No-one. Nevermind, I'm being ridiculous. The whole thing has simply given me the morbs. I'll be alright.

[holyposition]

That’ll pass a lot faster than his nasty personality.

Good. Keep at it.

Nobody thinks you deserve it, and if they do, you don’t need them.

[mygoodsir]

He seems unusually antagonistic.

That's not really in my nature, Tim.

Of course.

[holyposition]

Do it for me, then. It upsets me to think you're being mistreated. He's not better than you, he was just born later.

[mygoodsir]

[Oh no. Tim really might think he's weak if he doesn't tell Strange off. Harry's anxiety ramps back up to ten.]

I'm not being mistreated.

[holyposition]

[ That’s... a leap! ]

Or disrespected. Whatever you want to call it. I’m not standing for it. Stephen Strange is not your boss, your father, or your priest. What he thinks of you isn’t important.

The people who really know you think the world of you. Just remember that.

And let me know when you finish up over there. I’ve got something I want to show you.

[mygoodsir]

Truly, that is all I need to hear. I know that it is a failing of mine to wish reassurance at the first sign of conflict, but I also know that you will not judge me for it. I thank you, Tim.

Life is very difficult, sometimes.

Oh? Is it some local fauna?

[holyposition]

We all have our insecurities. I'm happy to help.

No. Sorry if that's a disappointment. It's a gift. I made something for you.

[mygoodsir]

You made me something? Tim, how incredibly thoughtful!

[holyposition]

I have to admit, it wasn't completely selfless. But that's the only hint you get until you get back :)

[mygoodsir]

I shall hurry home the moment I am able.

[Which he does, after lord knows how long he puts up with the war of the med tents. When he returns to his own tent he is exhausted mentally and it shows.]

[holyposition]

[ Tim greets him with excitement, all of his irritation from before compartmentalized into a little box just for Mr. Strange. And for Harry, all love. He marks his place in his book, sets it aside, and springs to his feet, sauntering over to take his hand and plant a warm kiss right on his lips. It’s so painfully domestic that he can’t help but smile even wider. ]

Welcome back.

[ Harry looks tired. So he wraps his arms around him, pulling him in, letting him lean against him if he’d like to. ]

I’ve been working on this for a couple weeks during the library downtime. You’d be amazed how many people here just don’t read.

[mygoodsir]

[As always, just the sight of Tim lifts Harry's spirits. He leans against him with a sigh.]

I really wouldn't, actually.

You smell good.

[holyposition]

[ It’s lake water, wood shavings, and sweat. He smells like...camping. But it’s sweet of him to think so. ]

Hold that thought.

[ Tim pulls away, towards the pile of blankets near their sleeping bag that they’ve used for padding more than anything else, and pulls a thin wooden whipping cane from it, sanded and polished perfectly smooth, and presents it to Harry. His initials are engraved into the handle, not an expert HG, but it’s perfectly legible. ]

We don’t have to try it now, if you’re not in the mood. But until we can see if your implements survived the fire, I thought you should have something.

[mygoodsir]

[Harry watches Tim move about with a little smile. When he's presented with the gift he gasps and looks at Tim with eyes that are shining with joy. Leave it to Harry to nearly cry over discipline gear.]

Oh, Tim! You made this? It's beautiful! I-- Thank you!

[Oh, he's getting such a hug.]

You are the most amazing man.

[holyposition]

[ He’s fixed up the chapel so many times that he’s beginning to quite enjoy woodworking, actually, so he lights up like a candle at Harry’s enthusiasm, relieved that he likes it. Tim laughs, happy to be pulled into another hug, and leaves Harry little kisses against the side of his head. ]

Oh, no I’m not. I’ve been very bad. [ Playful, grinning. ] I had so many impure thoughts making it, that I forgot to return the high grit sandpaper to the supply tent.

[ The scandal. ]

[mygoodsir]

Oh, that is terribly naughty of you!

[Harry laughs, though, turning to kiss Tim properly on the mouth. All of his previous anxiety has vanished, all of his exhaustion forgotten.]

I cannot explain to you how deeply I appreciate that you indulge me so. You make me feel so... normal.

[holyposition]

[ He kisses back with warm, inviting lips, one hand settling on the side of his face - the one opposite of the eyepatch, still concerned about disturbing his healing. First he'd mutilated himself to keep his hands, then he'd gone to borderline-deranged places to alleviate Tim's pain, and now some jerk is calling his dedication to his profession into question?

Maybe he's feeling a little protective. Or possessive. They don't know Harry like he does. They don't understand. ]

I did warn you. It's a little bit for me, too.

[mygoodsir]

[Harry tries very hard to do his job well, but he is forever haunted by the ghosts of over a hundred men he could not save. It puts him in a strange mental space where he feels very defensive but also deeply insecure.]

Mmm. Yes. You enjoy your discipline.

[Kissing back some more. Eye be damned, he wants affection.]

[holyposition]

[ Tim knows the guilt the man carries, the way he blames himself for a situation that completely out of his control. History days those men were doomed the day they stepped onto those ships, nothing that Harry could have done would change that. But Tim was bred for guilt. He knows that rationalizations don’t have anything to do with alleviating shame. Harry will be haunted by it, no matter how many times he tells him he doesn’t need to be.

He may not have been in control then, but Tim can give him that here, when they’re alone and he’s got frustrations to burn. ]

I love it.

[ Moaning softly into the kiss, fingers ghosting over the buttons on the front of his shirt, but waiting for Harry to take it further, if he chooses to. He'd trust him over any other doctor here, past or present, with his body or his heart. ]

[mygoodsir]

[Harry is a very prim and proper man... in public. In the privacy of their tent, though, he feels no shame in what he wants to do to Tim.

He kisses him back and fumbles to get his buttons undone, discarding his shirt with a few sharp motions. He kisses Tim again, tugging at Tim's soft as well even though he seems reluctant to allow the time and space for Tim to actually get it off.]