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Exchanges in the Morning (Sean/Karl)
Dec. 28th, 2005 09:24 amOOC note: takes place Christmas morning, the morning after this.
I open my eyes and see that it's still dark outside, and I'm disoriented for a moment, wondering why I'm awake. But then fingers twitch on my ribs again, tickling slightly and I remember. Sean. Still in bed with me, and I turn my head, and he's there, a bulky shape in the darkness of the room. I can just barely see his eyes moving under his eyelids and I guess he's dreaming, and I'm hoping it's a good one if it involves his hands moving and I remember his hands moving last night, and fuck, I'm aching for him again.
I wonder if he'd appreciate my hard-on as an early Christmas present, but it's not even dawn yet and he looks so peaceful. I roll over and pull him closer, smiling against his sunny hair. Aunt June had pretended like she didn't know who he was, despite her threats when I called her. Treated him like any other ex-pat Brit living in Zid. And went to bed early.
And now, somehow, despite us still not talking about what we expect from each other, I can't fret about it anymore. He knows the worst thing about me, and it doesn't bother him. Whatever this is that we've got, it's something good, something peaceful and comfortable, in between times of almost uncontrollable lust. I'll just let it be, let us be, take whatever this is without worry or fear.
( Warm and content, I slide back into sleep. )
NC-17
I open my eyes and see that it's still dark outside, and I'm disoriented for a moment, wondering why I'm awake. But then fingers twitch on my ribs again, tickling slightly and I remember. Sean. Still in bed with me, and I turn my head, and he's there, a bulky shape in the darkness of the room. I can just barely see his eyes moving under his eyelids and I guess he's dreaming, and I'm hoping it's a good one if it involves his hands moving and I remember his hands moving last night, and fuck, I'm aching for him again.
I wonder if he'd appreciate my hard-on as an early Christmas present, but it's not even dawn yet and he looks so peaceful. I roll over and pull him closer, smiling against his sunny hair. Aunt June had pretended like she didn't know who he was, despite her threats when I called her. Treated him like any other ex-pat Brit living in Zid. And went to bed early.
And now, somehow, despite us still not talking about what we expect from each other, I can't fret about it anymore. He knows the worst thing about me, and it doesn't bother him. Whatever this is that we've got, it's something good, something peaceful and comfortable, in between times of almost uncontrollable lust. I'll just let it be, let us be, take whatever this is without worry or fear.
( Warm and content, I slide back into sleep. )
NC-17
