Historical Fics

Caleb Brewster X Benjamin Tallmadge

I oddly enough want to write something super fluffy. Just Ben being a sap, really.

So...

Yeah.

C/W:
None needed

~Story Starts~

Benjamin took a seat near the fire, watching how the dancing flames swirled into a waltz. He smiled a bit, the warmth it granted nice against the cool skin that had been nipped at by the wind all day.

"Captain Tallmadge," a man greeted, seating himself nearby. "Good day to you, sir."

"As to you." He spoke softly. He doesn't recall the man's name, perhaps a man just sent in from a different division. "How's the day been for you, sir?"

"Just fine. Things get better after you get out and get breakfast. By then, at least you have the sun on your back." The fella laughed, and Ben nodded his head to the side. Good humored, hardly any men were. 

"Sounds about right." He offered some input, glancing to the sky. The sun was lowering itself for the night, and men were getting dinner at this point. He glanced to the fella who sat across from him and chuckled. "Have you eaten already?"

"Yeah, it's best to get in there quickly. I've been through that more than once... Besides, first ones in gets the freshest foods. And at times, those breads and all are worth it," he laughed again.

Now Ben remembers why he finds the man so amusing, Brewster is the same way- though in a more mature manner. He cocked his head to the side, as if contemplating his own thoughts. Mature, Brewster, sure. He looked to the man who drummed his fingers against his knees, and he observed him a moment, keen blue eyes examining each feature. 

He was a rather thin boy, almost the kind you'd expect to be shy. Hell, he didn't look old enough to drink. A man's son, he assumed, following his father's footsteps. The only thing that really made him think of Brewster would be the personality.

"Captain? You alright there?" The boy chirped, snickering a bit. 

"Just fine." Benjamin straightened his posture. "Just thinking." He dusted his hands against his overcoat, eyes scanning the ground around the fire. More men were coming to join, some still holding breads in their hands. 

Their voices were chipper, and happy. 

Well, a man fed is a man happy.

Benjamin snorted at the thought. It's almost as if he stole of bit of Brewster's personality. He looked at the men taking seats around the fire. Most are men that he's seen in battalions, the others he knew were tailors, and perhaps some blacksmiths tied in. He assumed he outranked most, but he didn't mind. Sitting near the fire's warmth is a far too alluring of an option.

He listened to conversations, adding a couple words here and there if he was offered the opportunity. The men were rather talkative, and he supposed that it was an alright thing to have. If the men are friends, that avoids some issues than if everyone hated the other. 

But, it was rather surprising what the men talked of. After conversation of the day's chores, and some bringing up a dream they had, or perhaps some form of regret they had from their days killing, they would talk softly with one another about wives and children.

Ben never considered men would be so open to brag about what they had. They each spoke with care. Not a single man seemed like he wished to return to his mistress at home just to bed her, no, these men wanted to go home and hold their wives in their arms, be able to kiss their nimble fingers and hold them closer.

He never once thought of that idea, no matter how odd it seems to look past. 

Ben is a man of work, he never considered himself a skirt-chaser. A flirt, of course, he was known for it, but he never considered a serious relationship, instead ensuing opportunities that were handed his way.