A Chandler/Kent Drabble.
I own nothing.
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Just For Him.
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Emerson Kent remembers the moment he'd first laid eyes on him, he'd seemed such an exquisite creature, turned out so well, surrounded by the blood and the gore. And the first time he saw him smile he could have sworn it was just for him.
He remembers passing him chalk and the ribbing he'd received from the lads for it. It had been worth it just to hear him say his name out loud for the first time.
He remembers the first kiss, warm lips and soft butterflies.
He remembers the first time they danced, at Mansells third wedding, gentle hands on his hips as they swayed to the music.
He remembers their first argument, in the car park at Whitechapel police station, when in the pouring rain Joe had angrily screamed his first 'I love you'.
He remembers how he'd cried as he'd allowed the other man to see his scares, and how Joe had held him closely and whispered that he was beautiful.
He remembers the first time they made love, wrapped in Joe's tangled sheets, he remembers before that when they'd first had sex, upstairs at Megan Rileys new years eve party. They'd missed the countdown altogether and it had been Megans sheets tangled that night.
He remembers the awkward dinner where he'd introduced him to his parents. His father had been disgusted and his mother had cried.
He remembers the first house they bought together, or more accurately he'd allowed Joe to buy for them. The first night together in that house was the happiest of his life.
He remembers Joe's horror at the first signs of grey hair and how he'd told him it suited him, made him look awfully distinguished.
He remembers that stupid fish pond Joe had tried to make one summer. It rained so hard the following autumn the garden had flooded and the fish has escaped.
He remembers the bedlington terrier pup Joe had brought home because 'Look his hair's just like yours now!'. They'd spend hours throwing the ball up the garden and the damn thing would never bring it back.
He remembers Joe's retirement dinner surrounded by his superiors, where Joe had looked them in the eye and introduced him as 'my husband'.
He remembers sitting watching cricket even though he still couldn't figure out the rules and trying to explain the newest social network to Joe who'd just worried about the privacy.
He remembers when the time had come to make the decision and they'd buried the bedlington terrier under Joes roses, where the pond used to be.
He remembers every Friday night, slow dancing in the living room, just like they had at Mansells wedding so many years before.
He remembers the living room becoming the bedroom when he's no longer able to manage the stairs. Old injuries have a habit of catching up to you in the end.
He remembers every little gift to mark every single anniversary, and after 47 years that's an awful lot of gifts.
He remembers Joe squeezing his hand, telling him he'll do fine on his own, and that it's only temporary really, he'll be waiting for him when it's time.
These memories are like a time machine bringing everything back to life.
Lily Miles hugs him tightly, says 'It was a lovely service Uncle Em', reassures him 'Uncle Joe'll be in good company'. He had missed her dad terribly when he'd passed.
There's an emptiness inside now, one that won't go away, but he'll bare it gladly and with some happiness because once upon a time, he remembers, there had been a smile just for him.
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