Liveblog, because you messed me up too much for synthesis:
The evidence was there, if a man only cared to look: Ah, but is it indeed shame? Or is it Hornblower desperately trying to keep back from the cliff-edge he would gladly jump from? The one can look so much like the other, after all. Feel so much like the other, in some cases.
Oh, that coverlet of roses! <3 <3 <3
Bush likes being spooned! He likes it SO MUCH. They’re both just so happy about getting to sleep together — such a profound pleasure for both of them. I'm just so happy for both of them.
Hornblower sent for Bush’s sea-chest! OMG THEY WERE SHIPMATES CABINMATES
This convo about statues and portraits… Bush’s vanity makes me smile, it's so endearing! But, they’re both so clumsy at this — the only thing that saves them is their utter sincerity. Which is almost heartbreaking, they're so earnest.
And that whole smut scene is so intense — they may be as repressed as fuck, but they feel things with every ounce of their beings.
But then:
Laws and vows and articles be damned; Hornblower needed him, and he would deliver. I may make jokes about these two fucking because their duty made them do it, but my jokes are just cover for how earnestly I am there for it.
and for just a moment Bush allowed himself to believe he was cared for, that he was loved. But it was easy for a man to lie to himself like this, lying next to the warm body of another, and so Bush put the thought away, contenting himself to lie next to his beloved friend for as long as duty allowed it. MURDER ME WHERE I FUCKING STAND, WHY DON’T YOU.
He was so utterly lost that Bush crossed the room and took those long elegant hands between his own and kissed them, risking rejection, risking everything, if only to bring some reassurance to his captain. ASDFJK, WHAT, YOUR FIRST MURDER ATTEMPT DIDN’T MURDER ME ENOUGH?
He had never hoped for a future; it was easy for a man to believe in lies in the warm embrace of another, but Bush was too stubbornly practical to ever believe that Hornblower would wish for something more than which they had briefly shared. BELIEVE, BUSH. BELIEVE.
And as if Bush trying to tell Hornblower nothing needs to be said wasn’t painful enough:
He tried not to look at Hornblower, tried forget that for a moment he’d imagined he was loved. FUCKING GODDAMN FUCK
…and yet here Bush was, allowing wishful thinking to get in the way of his duty. It was unacceptable, and he would do better, for Hornblower's sake if not his own. BUT…!? DUTY...!! HOW COULD DUTY DO ME A DIRTY LIKE THIS?
…desperate to put a physical barrier between himself and his whirling thoughts. And don’t think I didn’t notice that he’s leaving himself INSIDE that room when he shuts that door. DON'T THINK I DIDN'T NOTICE
In short, that was an aggravated murder in the first degree, and I hope you're feeling very proud of yourself.
no subject
The evidence was there, if a man only cared to look: Ah, but is it indeed shame? Or is it Hornblower desperately trying to keep back from the cliff-edge he would gladly jump from? The one can look so much like the other, after all. Feel so much like the other, in some cases.
Oh, that coverlet of roses! <3 <3 <3
Bush likes being spooned! He likes it SO MUCH. They’re both just so happy about getting to sleep together — such a profound pleasure for both of them. I'm just so happy for both of them.
Hornblower sent for Bush’s sea-chest! OMG THEY WERE
SHIPMATESCABINMATESThis convo about statues and portraits… Bush’s vanity makes me smile, it's so endearing! But, they’re both so clumsy at this — the only thing that saves them is their utter sincerity. Which is almost heartbreaking, they're so earnest.
And that whole smut scene is so intense — they may be as repressed as fuck, but they feel things with every ounce of their beings.
But then:
Laws and vows and articles be damned; Hornblower needed him, and he would deliver. I may make jokes about these two fucking because their duty made them do it, but my jokes are just cover for how earnestly I am there for it.
and for just a moment Bush allowed himself to believe he was cared for, that he was loved. But it was easy for a man to lie to himself like this, lying next to the warm body of another, and so Bush put the thought away, contenting himself to lie next to his beloved friend for as long as duty allowed it. MURDER ME WHERE I FUCKING STAND, WHY DON’T YOU.
He was so utterly lost that Bush crossed the room and took those long elegant hands between his own and kissed them, risking rejection, risking everything, if only to bring some reassurance to his captain. ASDFJK, WHAT, YOUR FIRST MURDER ATTEMPT DIDN’T MURDER ME ENOUGH?
He had never hoped for a future; it was easy for a man to believe in lies in the warm embrace of another, but Bush was too stubbornly practical to ever believe that Hornblower would wish for something more than which they had briefly shared. BELIEVE, BUSH. BELIEVE.
And as if Bush trying to tell Hornblower nothing needs to be said wasn’t painful enough:
He tried not to look at Hornblower, tried forget that for a moment he’d imagined he was loved. FUCKING GODDAMN FUCK
…and yet here Bush was, allowing wishful thinking to get in the way of his duty. It was unacceptable, and he would do better, for Hornblower's sake if not his own. BUT…!? DUTY...!! HOW COULD DUTY DO ME A DIRTY LIKE THIS?
…desperate to put a physical barrier between himself and his whirling thoughts. And don’t think I didn’t notice that he’s leaving himself INSIDE that room when he shuts that door. DON'T THINK I DIDN'T NOTICE
In short, that was an aggravated murder in the first degree, and I hope you're feeling very proud of yourself.