Hiii I have two requests for the kisses ask meme! 1: #9 (War's End) kiss with Major Merlin and 2: #2 (Kiss on the forehead) with Strange/Segundus!
#9 (War's End) kiss with Major Merlin
Grant looks up as the door opens and Jonathan Strange strides into the room. It's been several years since he's seen Strange, can never think of him as anyone other than Merlin, even while those around him keep referring to the man as "the illustrious Mr. Strange" or "His Royal Majesty's Magician". To Grant, he'll always be just Merlin.
Strange is cornered by a pair of old veterans and pulled into a conversation on which canons should be decommissioned. His eyes flick over to Grant, and as their gazes meet, Grant feels that same sparking tug at his core whenever Strange looks at him.
It takes a long while until they can be alone. So many people wish to congratulate Strange on turning the tide against Napoleon, and to awkwardly offer their condolences on the loss of his wife, and whilst Grant has half as many admirers, he is also kept busy in conversation for several hours.
Eventually though, he sees Strange step into the library, and he follows him. No one else is there, and the blessed silence is a welcome balm to Grant's ears, which up until now had been accosted by the constant babble of conversation.
"Hello, Merlin," he says softly.
Strange turns to look at him and a warm smile blooms across his face. "Major Grant!" he exclaims happily. "I had wished to speak to you from the moment I arrived, but alas, fate had other plans."
He strides up to Grant, takes his hand and shakes it in both of his own. The warmth and pressure go straight to Grant's brain and make it break down like an old broken mill wheel.
"I must offer you condolences, Mr. Strange, on the death of your dear wife."
He watches as his words cause a shadow of pain to flit across Strange's face. "Thank you, Major Grant. That is appreciated. Only please call me Merlin. I cannot stand to be spoken to so formally by one I like so very much." His smile has warmed away the pain, and now his boyish charm is back.
Grant wants to kiss him. He knows this in a deep and unassailable part of himself. Has known it ever since he'd first seen the bombastic, clumsy country gentleman with his bouncing dark curls and crooked smile. He wants it so badly in fact that he does it. He leans in and presses his lips to Strange's cheek. This much is allowed, surely, between two men who've shared so much.
"I've missed you," he says into Strange's ear. He pulls away swiftly, but Strange follows him, turns his head and captures Grant's lips with his own. They stand stock still for a moment, lips held together, before parting.
"That was lovely," Strange says with a sad little smile. "I've wanted that for some time now."
Grant is stunned, but he quickly absorbs the meaning behind Strange's words and joy floods his heart. He smiles. "It was?"
"Yes," Strange steps close, pulls Grant to him by the hips and kisses him again, this time more soundly.
This kiss lingers a bit, and involves several soft little pecks as they slowly begin to separate.
"We should rejoin the party before people begin to talk," Grant says, feeling a small twinge of apprehension.
"You needn't worry about that, my darling," Strange says with a wave of his hand. The noises from the other room, of clinking glasses, loud bursts of laughter, the low murmur of many male voices speaking together, falls instantly silent. "No one will come looking for us now."
"I am continually awed by your skill with magic," Grant says fondly as he pulls Strange back into his arms. "I fear it has enchanted me, Merlin."
#2 (Kiss on the forehead) with Strange/Segundus!
Strange's visit to Starecross Hall is predictably too short. He does not feel the passage of time the same there as he does in other parts of the country. It is a house and an estate that seems to exist outside of time.
His visits to Mr. Segundus had happened more and more frequently in the months after he and Norrell had returned from the darkness. They had much to discuss after all, and Segunudus is always so very happy to see him.
They spend Strange's visits lounging beneath the large apple tree in the garden, discussing magic. On long walks on the moors, discussing magic. In long talks in the library over emptied glasses of port, discussing magic.
It is time for Strange to go, and yet, the sight of Segundus' large, dark eyes as he readies himself for the coach always tug at his heart a little.
The Headmaster of Starecross Hall is in the courtyard currently, clutching a book he wants to lend to Strange in his pale, long fingered hands and muttering distractedly to himself, which he is prone to do when left alone for longer than five minutes stitched together. He looks up as Strange steps out, coat on, hat in hand. Jeremy begins loading his bags onto the coach, and Strange steps up to John Segundus.
"Mr. Segundus, as always, it has been a lovely visit. You've been a warm and entertaining host."
"Thank you, Mr. Strange. Your visits are always gladly anticipated."
Jeremy climbs into the drivers' seat of the coach, along with the footman, and Strange knows their time has truly come to an end. He pulls Segundus by the elbow, back a little ways, out of the other men's line of sight. "I do so adore my visits," he says, his eyes searching Segundus'. His friend is so slender and pale, he needs a good deal more feeding and some time in the sun, and his scholarly paleness and slenderness always make Strange feel fiercely protective. "Goodbye, Mr. Segundus," Strange says softly, then places a lingering kiss to Segundus' smooth, cool brow.
He hears the slightest intake of breath from his friend, surprise at the intimacy of the touch, but then Segundus says "Goodbye Mr. Strange," his voice thick with suppressed emotion, and Strange knows without a shadow of a doubt that his feelings are returned.
They part with one last, lingering look, before Strange enters the coach and closes the door behind him. Segundus tips his hat at Strange, smiles his lovely shy smile, and Strange grins back at him, secure in the knowledge that he will receive more kisses at a later date.
They ride off into the crisp Yorkshire morning, Strange pressing his fingers to his lips and trying to recall the silky feel of Segundus' skin.
