Birds of a feather // Saltburn fanfic

Lunch

' Cigarette?'

Oliver extended his hand with the metal cigarette holder tin in it. It was the first sunny and warm day of spring and even though the trees were still leafless and brown and the grass was still patchy and short everything just seemed much more gleeful and alive being illuminated by warming sunshine.

In consideration of the weather they ate lunch outside at one of the probably many patios of Saltburn. The food was great of course, no surprise there, but alas Francis needed to keep in mind that they were there for business and not pleasure. Not yet at least.

'Thank you.'

Francis took a cigarette from the tin and waited for Oliver to give them the lighter. They didn't talk much during their shared cigarette break. What was there to say anyways? They already had a polite conversation about the weather and of course about the food and a few words about whatever mediocre news were in the morning's paper. Being run out of all the bullshit polite and shallow topics this was a limbo between the superficial and the real conversations below tactfulness.

'Shall we pick out the pieces then?'

Francis stubbed out their cigarette and broke the silence. Oliver copied them and nodded with a gentle smile.

He led the way as they slowly toured the rooms of the ground floor discussing which pieces would be worth showing at the gallery. The two of them were mostly alone this time other than the occasion staff members they would bump into in corridors or in some rooms, but they all scurried away at the sight of Oliver. Most importantly Duncan wasn't in their footsteps this time or at least he was very good at hiding it which made their banter more relaxed and intimate.

'Do you wish to live like this Francis?'

Oliver asked in between sips of scotch without turning to face Francis. Francis had their own glass Oliver gave it to them in the library off of the bar cart. Something old, expensive, musky and slightly bitter just like Saltburn itself.

'No I couldn't. I like the city too much.'

'Yet you're eager to bring a piece of Saltburn to the city.'

Oliver turned around stepped closer to them. His sly fox like eyes didn't leave Francis's face for even a split second making them fluster a little.

'I suppose so. The classical opulence of your manor and the endless opportunities of the city would be my dream.'

'Well all it takes is hard work, ain't that right?'

' Absolutely.'

Oliver smirked in a way that Francis didn't understand yet. They tried to not give too much thought into it and smiled back then took a sip of their drink.

After touring a few other rooms the list of the items that would be showcased at the gallery was almost done. They found themselves in a large room refered to as the great hall sitting on a satin couch sipping their third of fourth glass of scotch. Once again a cunning smile drew across Oliver's face that Francis didn't understand. It was like there was an inside joke that they weren't part of.

'All right. Fuck marry kill: Richard III., Henry VII., Henry XIII.?'

'Hmm...' Francis wondered and looked up at the portraits on the wall in contemplation but Oliver didn't wait for their reply.

'If I were you I'd fuck then marry me. Add murder and it would be quite the lucrative investment.'

Their eyes met as Francis turned their gaze back at him from the portraits. Once again that sly fucking expression on his face. They hated the feeling of confusion that he made them feel. Francis couldn't help but laugh as that seemed like the only possible reaction to his comment but Oliver didn't laugh at all.