A/N: I haven’t posted a chapter of this since June, but I have been working on it off and on since then. This chapter is very different, because it’s mostly from August’s pov, and I introduce a few new original characters. So I am pretty nervous about it. But I hope you all enjoy. 

Read chapters 1-4 on ao3

Tagging: @today-in-fic

Rating: SFW, pg-13? ( sex only mentioned in the beginning)

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Chapter 5

October 1984

For a moment everything is silent, except for the sound of their heavy breaths piercing the still air around them. August’s smile is sleepy, satisfied. The room smells of sweat and masculine arousal. Sex. He and August have just pleasured themselves right next to each other. And now he doesn’t know what to do. His heart hammers in his chest anxiety and guilt weighs down his limbs. With a drowsy smile still on his face, August leans over and Fox finds himself dodging his friend’s intended kiss. A hurt look passes over August’s chiseled features, making him feel even more guilty.

“Aug, listen… I uh… this was nice, but uh… I’ve got an early class.” Fox dips his head, averting his eyes away from his half-naked friend. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

“Oh, I…I see,” his friend says softly, and Fox hears the disappointment in his voice. If there is anything he knows about August, it’s that he’s preternaturally intuitive and sensitive. Though, it’s clear to Fox that years of expensive schooling and lessons on etiquette have taught his friend to hide his emotions for the sake of politeness and decorum. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your schedule. Besides, I’ve got training in the morning anyway,” his friend says almost too casually. Fox finds himself distracted by August pulling his mesh shorts over his nearly perfect ass. The guilt he felt previously strikes back with a vengeance.

“Your team wants you back so soon?” He asks, averting his eyes. “Aren’t they going to give you time to recover after your injury? It’s only been a week.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been knocked about on the field,” he says walking towards the door. “Besides, I could never stay away too long. They’d be a sorry mess without me. They need me too much.” August pauses, but he doesn’t turn around. “And it’s nice to be needed, sometimes,” he says softly closing the door behind him with a soft snick.

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August’s POV:

August leans his back up against the door, attempting to swallow the emotions swirling around in his stomach. He should’ve known better than to stay in Fox’s room. Something in the back of his brain warned him that this would all go to shit, and now it has. He should’ve never expected Fox to… The sound of the phone ringing in the other room breaks him out of a sea of self-pity. He straightens his shoulders and picks up the receiver.

“Hello.” His voice sounds strange, he attempts to correct that by clearing his throat. No need to sound emotional. “August Drake speaking,” he says as cheerfully as he can.

“August, this is Imogen,” a familiar voice of his cousin Imogen comes over the line. Normally, he would be exceedingly happy to hear from her, but something seems wrong. “I’ve got something to tell you.” Her usually chipper tone had darkened and sobered.

“Imogen, what’s wrong, what’s the matter?” He asks, genuinely concerned “Is it grandfather?” His question is met with a pregnant pause.

“Yes…. August, he’s getting worse,” her voice catches, and August’s heart drops. “The doctors are saying that his prognosis….” she pauses to swallow. “Isn’t good. I know you have your studies, but we need you here.”

“Oh… of course, I’ll come straight away, I’ll get on the next train.”

“Oh, and August, he’s been asking for you,” she pauses again, and August sighs deeply into the phone. His grandfather and he had never been close, in fact, Edward Drake did little to keep his disappointment in August a secret. It was obvious that he would never be able to live up to the high expectations his grandfather placed on him. “He says that he’s got something to tell you.”

“Oh, okay, is my mother there?” he asks, already knowing the answer. “The last I heard she was in the South of France with her boyfriend,” August says bitterly.

“You know as much as I do. She hasn’t taken any of my calls,” Imogen says. “It’s just me, my mum and of course Christian is here.” The mention of Christian’s name makes his chest feel tight, strange. Christian was from a neighboring estate, and the three of them would play together every summer all while they were growing up. “August, we need you here.”

“Of course,” he says in a reassuring tone. “I’ll just catch the sleeper train from Euston to Edinburgh. If all goes well, I’ll be there in the morning.”

Click, the line goes dead.

August throws a few items into his rucksack; some clothes, his journal, a bar of soap. He tucks the silver engraved flask that his grandfather gave him for his eighteenth birthday into the pocket of his trousers. After he calls a cab, he jots down a note:

Fox, I have been called back to my grandfather’s estate for some urgent family business…

No, that wouldn’t do, he doesn’t want to give too much away.

Dear Fox,

I am needed at my grandfather’s estate. Nothing to worry about, I’ll be back in a few days.

Sincerely,

-A

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Thanks to @agent-starbuck and @frangipanidownunder for their lovely beta. And of course the wonderful @arboreta for being so amazing during the whole process of writing this. Als Tagging @cultureisdarkbeer @observeroftheuniverse @wtfmulder @storybycorey @suitablyaggrieved @nonbinaryscullly @pearsalot @monikafilefan @monaiargancoconutsoy @improlificinsarcasm @lepus-arcticus @scully-eats-sushi