#goreconte

Timeline & Historical Themes for Inspiration

Antiquity & Mythology

Ancient Greece

Greek mythology and the Olympian gods

The Odyssey

Ancient Rome

Gladiators

The assassination of Julius Caesar

The Trojan War

Oracles and prophecies

Middle Ages

Knights and chivalry

King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table

Vikings and Norse exploration

The Crusades

Castles, sieges, and feudal politics

Monastic life

Robin Hood

The Black Death

Joan of Arc

Renaissance & Early Modern Period (14th–18th Centuries)

Romeo and Juliet

Royal rivalries and succession crises

Witch trials

Revolutions and political upheaval

Exploration and the Age of Discovery

Pirates and privateers

The Enlightenment

Court intrigue

Canon Era (19th Century)

Pre-canon adventures

Canon events

Post-rescue AUs

XX Century

World War I

The Roaring Twenties

World War II

Resistance movements

Espionage and intelligence work

The Cold War

The assassination of John F. Kennedy

Space Race

Modern Times (21st Century)

Social media and bloggers

Bog corporations

Academia

Future

Space exploration

Dystopia / Anti-Utopia (Mad Max, The Matrix, Blade Runner, etc.)

Cyborgs and cybernetic

Post-apocalyptic worlds

Zombie apocalypse

Beat the Devil's Tattoo - BRMC

Bang the Doldrums - FOB

Remedy - Seether

Marvin Gaye - Charlie Puth, Meghan Trainor

My Kind of Guy - Kaiser Chief

Whispers in the Dark - Mumford & Sons

The Bad Touch - The Bloodhound Gang

Just One Yesterday - FOB, Foxes

Blow Up the Outside World - Soundgarden

Country House - Blur

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? - Arctic Monkeys

Black Sheep - Gin Wingmore

C'est La Vie - Stereophonics

Six Weeks - Of Monsters And Men

It's My Life - Bon Jovi

Genghis Khan - Miike Snow

Womanizer - Britney Spears

Boombastic - Shaggy

Canzone Estiva - Annalisa

I'll Sleep When I'm Dead - Bon Jovi

Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes - FOB

Self Control - Raf

Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace

Falling in Love Is Hard (on the Knees) - Aerosmith

Dundy and Graham meet at a park an hour north of their offices, like they do almost every Friday evening. They make this trek on the regular- they're not supposed to be together. Nobody is supposed to be with Graham, not now. He's there for the shareholders, and he's happy to be, and he's signed up for that, and he's shot up the corporate ladder. He just didn't realize it was going to happen so soon.

In his slacks, shirt, and coat from work, Dundy looks perfectly normal in the little city park, holding an late-in-the-day coffee because he rarely gets more than a few hours of sleep anyway. Perks of the company; the better the shareholders are doing, the more benefits the employees get, of course. But he's unhappy; barely sipping his espresso, scanning the walking paths anxiously.

It takes Graham almost thirty minutes longer than usual to show up. Dundy's tense body unclenches in relief, half-convinced that today would be the day Graham doesn't show up. He makes a b-line for Graham as soon as he sees him.

Graham's bundled up like it's winter, his long winter coat over his work clothes, scarf and mittens. He's looking particularly pale, circles under his eyes (usually a sign that the shareholders are cross with you, and it's unsettling to see on their Golden Boy). He's... shivering. Usually the cool evening air isn't an issue for him. But after what he went through today-

- nice and easy, just take the last digit-

Dundy hands Graham the coffee, which Graham takes immediately, then looks a bit disappointed.

"It's cold," he says, giving Dundy his best attempt at a smirk.

"You're late," Dundy counters, taking Graham's other hand in both of his. As if he could see through the layers- mitten over glove over bandages- and see how Graham's fingers were doing. Graham flinches, but doesn't take the hand away, takes another sip.

"It's fine," Graham offers. "Let's get something hot, I'm freezing."

Dundy finally looks up into Graham's eyes. They take a beat to just stare, their customary exchange-by-way-of-expression of stressors and grievances which must go unsaid, but are still on both their minds. Usually those worries are, Franklin assigned extra paperwork, or Fitzjames wants me to work Saturday. Today it's They took off two of your fucking fingers and I'm freaking out and They were only supposed to take one of my fingers today and they did an extra one and I'm freaking out.

Dundy takes the lead tonight. Steers Graham back through the park toward the closest cafe, orders them both something hot. Graham's smile is appreciative and ungaurded, and it hurts Dundy's heart. Graham's never like this, all soft and quiet, plastering himself against the far wall while Dundy orders a box of treats. Like he's a shy, small thing, and not Graham Gore, the shareholder's golden lamb.

Dundy steers them to one more shop, since it's nearby, to buy them hot pies to take along. They'd reheat in the microwave, they've done it a dozen times before. Then they walk downtown, to George's spare flat, which they've been using every weekend for the past year. Safe, discreet, far from everything else.

Graham lets Dundy ease him onto the couch. He cranks the apartment heat up (it's unused during the week, heaven knows George is off in one of his several other family properties). He throws some blankets over him. Reheats Graham's pie and puts it on a tray. Does all of this in silence. Then gets the first aid kit, like he knows what the hell he's doing.

It doesn't matter, though. Graham's smiling up at him even through the pain as he peels off his mitten, glove, and then the bandages beneath. He likes the attention, likes Dundy scrutinizing the wounds, likes feeling those careful fingers use the alcohol wipes, examine the first wound on his pinky- half healed already, thanks to the shareholder's direct touch, a mix between cauterization and natural scarring- and the second wound on his ring finger, which the shareholders hadn't healed, they hadn't even taken the digit- and this one was sewn up, and had bled a bit in the bandage and stained Graham's glove.

Dundy is careful as hell with the alcohol wipes, and Graham does his best not to flinch, though it's blindingly painful- it's a dull throb in both fingers. But then his lover is wrapping them again, fresh clean bandages being lovingly folded over both wounds. Dundy wraps his entire hand, to discourage Graham from trying to use it.

By the time they're done Graham's managed about half his meat pie. They're both on the couch, Graham still half-burried under blankets and taking forever to warm up. Dundy is glaring at him still.

"Don't worry so much, old sport."

"Don't old sport me."

"I will until that scowl is gone."

Dundy doesn't want to talk about it, but he's still upset.

Graham takes Dundy's hand with his good one. Squeezes it, then brings it up to his own face and puts it on his cheek. He just looks at Dundy, eyes big, and tries to beam as much love and affection as he can, mind-to-mind.

"Don't puppy-dog eyes at me," Dundy says, but he has no resistance, not when Graham is so tired, still shivering under all those layers. He pulls Graham's face to his and kisses him, tastes the meat pie and coffee and Graham's shaken morale on his tongue.

Then Graham's pulling him in, reminding Dundy how strong he is, even down one hand. He pulls Dundy to him until he's practically on his lap, pulls the blanket over them, accidentally knocks his little tray and meat pie onto the floor. Graham laughs.

"You oaf," Dundy chastises, but doesn't move to get up and clean it. He lets Graham press another kiss to him.