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Slough House was asleep, silent but for the faint hum of plugged-in electronics and the occasional shudder of old pipes settling for the night.
All lights were off until you reached the top floor, where a faint light filtered under the door to Lamb's office. In itself, it wouldn't be a strange occurrence as Lamb frequently forgot to turn the lamp off, or more likely, couldn’t care less what it cost the Service.
If you strained your ears, though, you might be able to make out two voices, softly speaking in the near darkness.
If, and this is a big if, you were able to enter the office without either man noticing, you might be taken aback by what you saw.
The room was dim, the only light coming from an ageing desk lamp whose bulb flickered faintly, as if offended to still be in service. On the desk, amongst stacks of yellowed papers and empty takeaway boxes, an overflowing ashtray was still smoldering, its latest addition not quite extinguished.
But none of this would be surprising for anyone who'd ever spent more than two minutes around Jackson Lamb.
What would surprise them would be to hear Lamb laugh freely at something River Cartwright had said, while River himself was leaning back on the couch, relaxed like he rarely allowed himself to be, his sleeves rolled up, with all the airs of someone that belonged there.
And in a way he did. It had become a bit of a habit for the two men to find themselves in Lamb's office, long after everyone else had gone back to their own home, and to share one or two glasses of cheap whiskey together. Sometimes they would sit in silence, simply enjoying being alone with someone else and not having to fill the space with pointless words, avoiding the cold loneliness of one's own house. Sometimes they would talk as if they hadn't spoken to another soul in weeks, sharing anecdotes and stories.
Tonight River had been oddly quiet, which usually meant he didn't know how to bring up whatever was on his mind. He had been taking deep breaths as if preparing to speak a few times that evening, only to stop himself short and sigh into his glass.
Of course Lamb had noticed. Naturally he said nothing, instead started telling an old story from Berlin back in the days, giving River enough time to gather the courage he needed to speak.
"... and that's when I realised", said Lamb, "that he wasn't KGB at all. Just another drunk waving a gun, with a massive chip on his shoulder."
River laughed, shaking his head.
"You must have seen all sorts back then."
Lamb huffed. "You've no idea. Sometimes I miss all the random encounters you could get there. And sometimes I wish some never happened."
River looked up at him, curious.
"Was there... I mean back in Berlin... was there ever anyone...?"
"Anyone what?" His gaze was unreadable behind the reflection of his glasses.
"Anyone that mattered to you I suppose", said River.
"Mattered...", considered Lamb, "Do you mean relationships? Christ... there were some people... Men, women, as long as they didn't point a gun at me or have a tape recorder up their sleeve." He leaned back in his chair, lighting a cigarette. The lighter cast a momentarily warm glow on his face.
River blinked, "Men?"
"Jesus, Cartwright. The Wall had just fallen, people were experimenting with democracy and each other. That's just how it was."
"No I get that, I just didn't expect you to be so... casual about it I guess."
Lamb shrugged, sending smoke toward the ceiling. "I'm too old to be anything else."
River didn't reply. He was looking at the bottom of his glass, seemingly lost in thoughts. Of course, Lamb noticed.
"What is it?", asked Lamb after a few minutes of silence. "I can almost hear you thinking."
"Nothing."
"Come on, out with it."
River let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. For someone who always had an answer to everything, words were suddenly failing him, even though it was burning him to finally be able to share his secret with someone.
"It's just... I don't really have much to compare that to. Experimenting, I mean."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning none," he muttered, looking anywhere but at Lamb. "I haven't really done any of it..."
Silence thickened for a heartbeat.
"None?" Lamb repeated.
River shrugged, his face burning. "There were... opportunities, I guess. But I never really felt... it's not something that ever appealed to me, or never enough to actually go through with it..."
He was feeling like an open book under Lamb's watchful eyes, all his insecurities, doubts and questions laid out plainly for the older man to dissect and judge. Whether he was about to support him or cast him out as an irremediable failure, River couldn't tell. It was unbearable.
Lamb's eyes narrowed. "You're embarrassed", he said.
"Maybe."
"Don't be, the world is full of people who've done plenty and learned nothing. You're doing fine."
River let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding; he wasn't going to be thrown away like a broken toy. Not yet.
"Yeah but I can't help to think that I'm..."
"Different?", Lamb supplied.
"Defective", shrugged River.
Lamb snorted softly, leaning back in his chair and tapping some ash in the overflowing ashtray.
"River, my boy, do you think you're the first person not to fit in a neat little box?" Lamb gave him a pointed look. "You're not as special as you think."
River laughed weakly, trying to mask the shiver that ran through him at Lamb calling him 'my boy'.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"It's all you're getting, I'm fresh out of hugs."
River looked up at him then and, for a moment, saw a kind of understanding behind the derision. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't die of embarrassment at being so open and vulnerable in front of his boss.
They fell into silence again, both lost in thoughts. It seemed that the moment had passed, that they'd move back to safer subjects. Surely Lamb wasn't interesting in dissecting River's most inner thoughts on his lack of sex life? But Lamb could worry a bone better than any dog.
"So, help an old man understand. Is it just sex that you're not into or the whole emotional nonsense as well?"
River nearly chocked on his whiskey at the directness, ears glowing red.
"Jesus, you don't do small talk, do you?"
Lamb stared over the rim of his glasses.
"Alright, alright." River muttered. "I mean, I guess it's... I've never done anything really...," his ears were turning an even deeper shade of red, "... never done anything sexual. I've never had sex with anyone. There was one time where I almost, where someone touched me like that and I thought I had to play along but... I panicked and I ran away... and after that I just felt dirty and... scared. And for the longest time after, whenever I'd think about it I'd feel disgusted at it and... at myself as well I suppose."
He sank further into the couch, as if the cushions might swallow him whole and spare him having to surface again. And Lamb was still staring at him, his unreadable gaze never leaving him and refusing to let him disappear.
But for River there was also relief at being listened to, at finally saying to someone all the things he had been ruminating.
"I think I've kissed maybe two people in my whole life. I got myself really drunk just to find the courage to try, but it was all wet tongues and drunkenness, nothing like I thought it would be, you know? I thought it would all make sense then but it didn't." He mumbled that last part almost for himself, defeated. "It was all too much in a way, you know?"
"Cartwright", Lamb's tone was surprisingly soft, as if speaking to an easily spooked animal, ready to run for his life. "River... so you're asexual. What's the big deal? There are worse things to be."
River looked up and shivered. All at once, exhaustion and emotion crashed over him. He pressed his hands to his face, trying to hold himself together. Why was Lamb being so patient and kind to him? Nothing made sense anymore. Tears were already starting to slip through his fingers, then getting faster, unstoppable, his whole body shaking with sobs.
He felt the couch shift as Lamb sat beside him.
"Oh, my boy... come here."
Lamb opened his arms and all resolves left River as he melted into the embrace. He pressed his face against Lamb's chest, his tears soaking his shirt. The steady heartbeat beneath his ear, the warmth, the smell of old cigarette and sweat. All this was surrounding him like something solid and real. He inhaled as deeply as he could between sobs, the familiar scent grounding him.
Lamb kept tracing comforting circles between his shoulder blades, his other arm encircling River, one heavy hand keeping a steady presence on the back of his neck.
River had never felt safer than in that moment.
They stayed like that until his sobs turned into a sniffle, Lamb never loosening his hold.
"Does it bother you?" asked Lamb softly. River looked at him questioningly.
"Not being like the rest."
River shrugged. "Everyone builds their lives around it, trying to get it... and I'm scared I'm missing out or that no one would ever want to be in a relationship with someone who can't do... certain things."
Lamb reached for the whiskey, refilled River's glass, poured himself more. He looked at the amber liquid for a moment before drinking the whole thing in one swift motion. He sighed.
"The problem with you is that you think too much. Half of your misery is self-inflicted. Unless... Cartwright, are you into someone then? Is that what's brought all this on?" Lamb sounded positively amused now.
River blushed to the root of his hair. Trust Lamb to always see through him.
"No!"
Lamb laughed, delighted. River could feel the panic rising.
"I mean... it's complicated."
Lamb's gaze sharpened. "Complicated how?"
River was searching for the right words. "It's not something I've ever experienced before. I usually never notice anyone in that way. And it's not about... you know. It's more about having a connection."
Part of him wanted to share everything, and part of him feared that Lamb's mocking humour would shatter him.
"I'm trying to figure out what it means for me... not just the asexual bit but... that I care for someone. It's confusing because I like spending time with them and talking with them, but it probably doesn't even matter because there's no way they'd ever like me like that."
Lamb was still, thoughtful, like someone fitting the last piece of the puzzle into place. He knew who River spent the most time with, and there weren't many other possible candidates. Which could only mean...
He handed River his glass, purposefully letting their fingers brush for a second too long. River couldn't help the shiver that ran through his spine at the contact. He froze like a deer caught in headlights.
And Lamb who had been observing his reaction attentively, looked at him like a cat who'd caught a particularly nice mouse.
"River...", he murmured, sounding highly entertained. "Are you attracted to me?"
"I-I..." In his panic, River couldn't lie or deflect. This was it, he'd said too much, revealed too much of himself and Lamb was about to break his heart and stomp all over the pieces with just a laugh.
"Yes." he whispered finally, eyes squeezing shut, unable to stand Lamb's piercing eyes on him.
But no laughter or mockery followed his admission.
Instead, he felt a hand gently lift his chin, forcing him to look into Lamb's face.
River blinked at the expression he found there. Amusement, definitely, but softened by something warmer, something frighteningly close to affection.
He couldn't quite believe it. Could it be that River hadn't been the only one pining in silence, afraid to shift the balance?
Lamb exhaled, slow and deliberate.
"I don't exactly scream 'safe choice' you know", he said quietly.
"You don't", agreed River softly. "But you're... real. You see people, even when you pretend you don't. You saw me."
Lamb's hand was still on his chin, his thumb gently stroking his cheek. The air between them was thick.
"You're sure this is the hill you want to die on?", asked Lamb, his voice low, careful.
River swallowed. "I'm sure."
Lamb stayed still, letting River decide the next step.
River slowly leaned forward, looking up at Lamb with his large blue eyes. He pressed his lips softly against Lamb's, barely more than a caress. It was a very pure kiss, so innocent and gentle.
Lamb couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him with that kind of gentleness. For someone like him, who had sinned through most of his life, it felt electrifying.
When they parted, River looked dazed, fingers brushing his lips.
"It was... nicer than I thought it could be." He murmured, smiling softly.
That smile melted Lamb's heart, and he couldn't help but reach out and press a brief kiss to the top of River's head.
"Do you want to... ?" He made a vague gesture with his hand, unsure what he was asking, afraid to disappoint Lamb by giving him too little.
It made Lamb curse every person who had ever made River feel like he wasn't enough.
"I think it was plenty for one evening, don't you?" he said reassuringly.
"Yeah. Yeah, it was a lot." River let out a sight of relief. He felt the knot in his chest relax completely. He could finally let his guard down.
Feeling bold, he curled himself straight into Lamb's side, tucking his head under Lamb's jaw.
"Jesus, River! Warn a man, would you?", Lamb grumbled, but his arms instinctively tightening around him.
River laughed softly, nuzzling deeper into Lamb's neck, inhaling the familiar scent.
Lamb started running his fingers through the soft blond hair, staring at the ceiling in disbelief.
After all he'd been through, and all that had been taken from him, life had finally handed him something worth holding onto.
Tomorrow would come soon enough.
For now, Lamb allowed himself to enjoy the warm steady weight against his chest.