Good Day
Pairing: Sean/Elijah
Disclaimer: Don’t know
these people. No offence intended or money made.
Today was a good day.
He woke me up, and he was warm and willing and perfect, leaning
over me, pushing into me, loving me. The best way to start our
long day together.
I made him scrambled eggs for breakfast, just how he likes them,
and he sat on the kitchen counter, with me between his legs as I
fed him without the benefit of cutlery. His mouth was wet and
sweet and his tongue smooth as he took the food from my fingers,
his eyes smiling at me.
When I came down from my shower, he had prepared a picnic, and
was already loading the car in a sudden burst of energy. I stood
and watched him out of the window as he piled things into the
trunk completely haphazardly, and I smiled. He's so organised in
so many aspects of his life - surprising to a lot of people - but
when he gets an idea in his head, organisation goes out of the
window.
He looked up and saw me and smiled, one of those chipmunk grins
of his that makes him look like he's had serious dental
treatment, and he beckoned me out. I pointed at my state of
undress - just a towel - and he shrugged; 'so what?' I went
upstairs and got dressed.
When I was slightly more respectable, I went out to where he was
leaning against the car, then pressed him against the hot metal,
kissing him until I saw stars. His mouth opened under mine and
his hands tangled in my hair. I put my hands on his hips then
slid them under his t-shirt and I could feel the muscles in his
belly quivering.
When I pushed him backwards onto the hood, he laughed a bit
breathlessly and said my name in that way that only he can.
"What's wrong?" he said. "Coming over all manly
like this." He wrapped his legs around my thighs. "Not
that I'm complaining."
I kissed him again to shut him up and we only had to stop when he
complained that the hood was starting to burn his back.
"Save that for later," he said, sliding out from under
me.
*
He does the driving leaving me free to criticise. He holds my
hand against his leg, covering it with his own, his fingers
tapping out the beat of whatever song he's decided suits the
mood. I have no idea what is, even though he's doing his best to
broaden my musical tastes.
I look out of the window watching as the scenery flashes past,
too fast, as usual. When we're in the city the speed worries me,
since I get visions of small children wandering in front of us,
but when we're at the beach house it doesn't seem to matter so
much - fewer people, easier to see distances, all kind of stupid
stuff like that.
He finally pulls off the road onto a dirt track and we bounce
along it for a couple of miles before he slams the brakes on,
sending us both rocking forwards, saved by the grace of our seat
belts. I'm just about to say something when he turns to me and
grins.
"We're here!" he announces brightly.
*
'Here' is a cove, deserted and perfect.
Still in charge, he unpacks the food, spreading it out on the
hood, looking at me, daring me to say something, but I just shrug
at him. He ends up sitting on the hood as well, and I stand close
to him, leaning against his thigh. We don't really speak much.
I feel his hand warm on the back of my neck, his fingers playing
with my hair and I lean back a bit, pushing into his hand, but I
still don't speak. He's a bundle of energy but he knows when to
let me have the silence I crave, and he sits quietly with me, his
fingers twisting through my hair.
I turn my head slightly and look at him. He smiles softly and
leans forward, kissing me. He tastes of the water he's just
drunk, cool after the heat of the sun. His hand is still resting
on the back of my neck, and he exerts just enough pressure to
hold me there - as if I was planning to move.
I slide one hand underneath his t-shirt, then the other, and
shifting my balance I push him backwards, echoing the actions of
earlier, sliding his shirt up so that I can kiss his belly. He
groans my name and tangles his fingers in my hair. We follow a
familiar pattern - not that we make out on the hood of a car
often - he pushes me lower, I pretend to fight and then willingly
unsnap his jeans.
He teases me about my vocabulary - 'you need a big brain for all
those words you use,' but I don't have a word for this, for the
way he makes me feel, for the way he feels underneath me, his
muscles tensing and relaxing, his legs pulled up until they are
resting on the car, the sound of his breathing as it changes, for
the smoothness of his skin and the taste of his body. For the way
that he makes me feel - full. Sometimes I believe that I really
don't need anything else to live; as long as he's there, then I
have all the sustenance I need.
Afterwards, when we have regained our composure, and tidied away
the remains of the food, we walk to the sea, side by side,
shoulders just brushing. The tide is high and the sea is wild and
majestic. I watch him as he watches it and I feel the smile on my
face. He turns and smiles at me, then kisses me again, and this
time he tastes of salt and wild things.
"Lucky," he says softly as he pulls away. "Lucky
to have this ..." he gestures around him, "and lucky to
have each other, and to be here at the same time..." he
rests his head briefly in the crook of my neck and then pulls
away, and we turn and walk back towards the car, his hand in the
back pocket of my jeans, his fingers curling in a way both
possessive and enjoyable.
By the time we've driven back - me at the wheel this time, as the
fresh air and - outdoor activities - take their toll. We arrive
home as the sun is setting and I stop the car and look at him
again, half asleep next to me. He stirs briefly, then settles,
and I feel that fullness again. A lot has been written about how
beautiful he is, but these people don't see the half of it. They
don't see him when he's woken up with a hangover and is willing
to rip the head off any being within a 10 mile radius; they don't
see him when he's sick and whiny. They don't see him as he leans
over me in the night, whispering my name; they don't see him as
he sleeps.
"Come on, you," I say finally, nudging him.
"Inside."
The phone rings as we dump everything in the kitchen, and I
answer it. It's Hannah, and as ever we make smalltalk before I
get her beloved brother so that they can start one of their
sibling arguments.
"Hey Sean," she says. "What have you been doing
today?"
"Nothing," I answer honestly. "We haven't really
done anything."
She's like her brother in that she's older and wiser than her
years.
"Did you have a good day? Doing nothing?"
"Oh yes. We've had a very good day."
And then I kiss him, hand him the phone, and leave him to talk to
his sister.
The End
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