Work Text:
1940, Paris, France.
Eejfe placed four folders on the table. The room was dead silent. No one could think of anything to say. There wasn’t anything to say.
“We can pose as couples,” Eejfe muttered as she thumbed through one of the stacks of documents. “Me and Mihael, Laure and Marcin. These will be enough to get us out of France, and into America. From there, we’ll.. just.. figure it out.”
It was a daunting task, but they had no choice. They didn’t have anything tethering them to Europe, just the blood in their bodies most of them would soon be hunted for.
Mihael reached for Marcin’s hands, they held their palms together until their knuckles went white.
Laure looked dismally at the pair. None of them wanted to betray their identities, but it was the simplest path to safety.
They couldn’t get wrapped up in a war, not before their lives had truly begun.
—
1953, Eastwood, Pennsylvania.
The move to America wasn’t.. terrible. It took some getting used to, but once the dust from the war had settled, they blended in seamlessly.
It was simple to keep up the facade of the perfect, 1950’s all American home. Mihael and Marcin would go to work while Eejfe and Laure made plans.
Sometimes the four of them would go out together, or stay in together, but most of the time Laure and Eefje stayed in one place, and Marcin and Mihael got the other.
By day, they were cut and paste of every John and Mary on the street, but by night they were Marcin and Mihael, Laure and Eefje. Soulmates, lovers, wives and husbands.
By night, they were complete.
—
Marcin knew he should have been paying attention, but as it goes, he wasn't, and bumped into a passerby.
And well, because it just wasn’t Marcin’s day, the passerby's hands were full of a thick stack of papers, which had spewed across the floor.
Marcin apologized profusely as he helped the man gather his things, an embarrassed, shy smile on his face. As he was cleaning he noticed something. One of the papers was in fact an envelope, addressed to him.
Oh, Miky, he thought to himself. Such a stupid, sweet boy.
Marcin’s day just got a whole lot better.
———
Dearest Marcin, it cost me a quarter and a coke to get this message to you, I hope you can appreciate my efforts and reimburse me in full tonight. Eefje and Laure have already made plans, which means we have the house. I'll be coming over.
At the end of the message he drew a small heart, leaving no doubt in Marcin’s mind to the true meaning of ‘reimburse.’ He bit his lip and smiled fondly at the note, before gently folding it into his pocket. Couldn’t let anyone see it.
Still, he wore the rest of the day with a small smile, knowing what awaited him in the evening.
—
“Oh, dear,” Marcin gently circled his arms around his husbands waist, their breaths mingling in the small space between them, “how I’ve missed you.” They we’re so close, just a hairs breath from merging into one.
Mihael giggled like a warm summer breeze, gently carrying Marcin far, far away from Eastwood Pennsylvania, back home, back before the war. Back to life. “It’s only been a few days!”
“It felt like a year,” Marcin’s voice went low and loving, a rich, raspy sigh that moulded into a short, tender kiss.
They pulled away not a second later, but the butterflies remained when their partners lips were gone.
So in love from the moment they met, so in love until the day they would die. All but in reality were they husbands, missing halves of one soul.
But so was the plight of their existence that the night was the only time for their affection. In a few hours, they’d have to part ways, and pretend their romance was platonic, at least until they could be alone again.
But for now, they were Mihael and Marcin.
Friends,
Husbands,
Soulmates.