the cold boys have taken over our lives

After spending time with Hodgson, Dundy unconsciously picks up some of his propensity for sharing fun facts. Not to the same degree, of course, but occasionally Fitzjames will be talking to him (or bitching as the case may be, the two of them commiserate often) and he’ll find himself mentioning some obscure, often tenuously related fact that he learned from George previously. James just responds with a vaguely amused look and some good-natured teasing about him spending too much time around Terror’s second lieutenant.

Chambers is so incredibly touch-starved. This poor boy nearly loses it any time someone touches him, even in the most innocuous of ways. Best once held his hand (in an effort to get a better look at his wrist which he said had been bothering him all morning) and Georgie legitimately swooned. Best had to catch him before he fell over.

Tommy didn’t die right away after getting shot so he got to hear—and perhaps even see—what happened to his dear sergeant before he succumbed.

Fitzjames is quite strong and can pretty easily carry just about anyone. Crozier likes to pretend that he doesn’t find this strength incredibly attractive and insists that he hates it every time James tries to pick him up. James sees right through him though and does it anyway, much to Francis’s secret delight.

Dundy’s favorite gift he ever received was an ornately carved, beautifully inlaid cane that Hodgson bought for him. Le Vesconte had always been somewhat preoccupied with his appearance. Although he took the premature greying of his hair in stride, he worried that it made him look old beyond his years. This was only compounded by the fact that, upon their return, he was forced to use a cane to compensate for his missing toes. Although he was well-aware that the expedition could have turned out far worse—he could have lost his life rather than just his youthful mobility—it still stung to be a man of hardly forty and already doddering and grey-headed. He tried to pretend that it didn’t affect him, even joking about it from time to time, but Hodgson could see right through his self-deprecating humor. Although George couldn’t do much about the root cause of the issue, he could try and make the man feel better. He set out to buy him a much fancier, more a la mode cane than the one he had been using previously, something more suitable for a young man of their set. He finally settled on a very contemporary, ivory and gold inlaid piece that he was sure Dundy would love. He was right, of course. Le Vesconte adored it, not just because it was a beautiful gift but because of the wonderfully sweet gesture behind it as well.

Dundy always disliked Crozier—practically from the first moment he met him—but he didn’t hate the man until he repurposed Gore’s funeral oration to be Sir John’s. He disliked how the man had treated James, his constant drinking and his ill-concealed disdain for most of James’s choice of officers, but to take what had been dedicated to a man the crew so dearly loved—that he had so dearly loved—and shoddily change it to honor Sir John was an inexcusable offense in Le Vesconte’s eyes. Not only was it a slight to their well-loved Captain, but Graham received nothing—no words of praise, no mourning sermon, nothing. All because Crozier couldn’t be bothered to write his own speech for Sir John’s funeral. He stole the words meant for the man Dundy loved and drunkenly stumbled through them at that farce of a funeral. Dundy never forgave him for that and made no real attempt to hide his hatred for the man.

Sometime after the attack on the ship, during Crozier’s convalescence, Little manages to catch Jopson alone. He’s shaking a bit, seemingly nervous, and manages to stumble through a very obviously rehearsed speech that essentially boils down to: “I didn’t want to die without saying it, but I love you and I have done for the longest time. If you were willing, nothing would make me happier than giving this relationship a chance, I’d be yours for as long as you’d have me”. Jopson, being tired as all hell and absolutely dumbfounded by his dear lieutenant’s obliviousness, just blinks up at him and replies with something along the lines of: “Edward, we have been together for the past three months???”

Before he died, John had a habit of sneaking up behind Tom whenever he was lost in thought or focused on something else and flicking him in the back of the head. Sometimes he would ruffle his hair or otherwise smother him in brotherly affection, but most of the time he just flicked him and dashed off. It drove Tom absolutely mad, but after Beechey he found himself missing it terribly.

Tozer masks his fear and worry with anger. He’s like that with all his men, but especially with Armitage whom he frets over constantly. He would never actually hurt the man, but he’s definitely not above giving him a light smack in the shoulder when he does something damn stupid and yelling at him a bit. Tommy knows he means well and that it’s his way of showing that he cares. To be honest, seeing Tozer all fired up and shouting at him is quite attractive to him—the strange lad that he is. He definitely gets a little ~distracted~ whenever the sergeant is yelling at him; his eyes get a bit glazed and he gets very red in the face.

Gore will occasionally “steal” the logbook Le Vesconte carries about and leave him little drawings in the margins. Dundy doesn’t mind him using it, in fact, he rather likes finding the sketches (usually accompanied by a short, affectionate note) while he’s working.

The only time Pilkington lets anyone take care of him (besides the very rare moments when he will begrudgingly let his partner do so) is when he is seriously ill. Otherwise he resists all forms of mothering and insists on doing things himself. It’s a surefire way to tell if the man is feeling unwell if he lets someone else look after him without putting up a fight.

The other marines tease Tozer about his soft-spot for Armitage. Most of them haven’t figured out that their sergeant has a crush on him (and those that have keep it to themselves, both for their sergeant’s safety and their own), but they still like to poke fun at him for how much he looks out for the man.

Ross keeps one of the uniform buttons that was given to him in the Arctic on a cord around his neck. He toys with it whenever he’s anxious or missing Crozier. It’s one of the last things he has to remember his dear friend by and the only remains he was ever able to find of him.

Fairholme, while usually fairly observant, is a bit more oblivious when it comes to romantic matters. He has enough sense to recognize and acknowledge that he’s gay, and recognize when he finds someone hot, but not as much when it comes to realizing who he has feelings for (and who might have feelings for him).

Dundy has always been the one to take care of Fitzjames. With the amount of shit James “I got mauled by my pet cheetah” Fitzjames gets into, someone had to do it and Le Vesconte was more than happy to step into that role. He’s his second in command after all and his dear friend besides (and if it should be more than friendly affection that guides his hand as he tenderly patches him up for the umpteenth time or offers him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, that’s for him alone to know). He’s seen James through some of his worst scrapes and been at his side through many a crisis. He would do just about anything for James and that’s why it hurts so badly that in the end James chooses Crozier (a man who in Dundy’s jealous mind has probably done James more harm than good—he did punch him after all) to tend to him over Le Vesconte himself.

Even after they were rescued, Le Vesconte kept the sweater that Fitzjames gave him during the walkout. It was the last gift of a man who thought himself to be dying, a final token of affection from a man he’d loved for nearly half a decade. Though it hadn’t come to that, it would have been the last thing he had to remember James by, if not for their timely salvation. It was tattered, stained, and fraying at points, but Dundy couldn’t bear to part with it. When they got back to England, he kept it in one of his drawers, buried by the rest of his nicer clothes. Sometimes, when James was gone on business and Dundy really started to miss him, he would take it out to run his fingers over the fabric or else hold it to his chest like a security blanket. It was deeply comforting, it reminded him of all the time spent lounging in Fitzjames’s arms, his face buried in the collar of this very sweater. James was surprised, but honestly also touched, to learn that his lover kept the old thing throughout all their travails.