What It Means
Pairing: Sean/Elijah
Disclaimer: Don’t know these people. No offence intended or money made.
Elijah shifted again, pretending to look for a more comfortable position. Sean knew damned well that wasn't the case, and he grunted slightly, bringing his knees up so that Ellijah could rest his back against them. At the same time he rested his hands on Elijah's thighs, fingers moving idly. Elijah, now comfortably straddling Sean, picked up the conversation.
"So why do Irish words have so many letters? And why are they always weird letters? Spell Irish Kenneth for me - and I don't mean Irish Kenneth, before you start," he added, glaring down at Sean.
"Okay, it's Coinneach," said Sean. "Perfectly logical."
"No, because it is was logical you'd pronounce it Conneack. Stupid."
Sean laughed, the movement causing Elijah to bounce slightly. "Well if it's logical spelling, why do you Americans miss out so many letters?"
"Probably because the Irish stole them. What do you mean? And also what do you mean 'you' Americans? You decided to turn completely Irish?"
"For the purposes of this argument, yes. Colour." Sean reached up and touched Elijah's hair. "Flavour." He softly licked the inside of Elijah's wrist. "It's because the English language has its roots in French and American English doesn't."
Elijah looked at him in amazement.
"What?" Sean demanded. "It's just one of those things I happen to know."
"You 'happen' to know so much," Elijah said. "You're incredible."
"Flavour," Sean repeated, licking Elijah's wrist again.
"So what's a banshee?" Idly he pulled his wrist away from Sean's grip and licked at the same spot. "I've heard you mention them. That. Whatever."
"Baine Sidhe," Sean spelt out. "Pronounced banshee."
"But why?" grouched Elijah. "And what is one?"
"It's a lost soul that hangs around screaming," Sean answered, slightly distracted by the sight of Elijah's tongue.
"So why do you feel the need to talk about them?"
"Er, because ... it's the noise you make when you come." Sean, slightly embarrassed, laughed at the affronted expression on Elijah's face.
"You saying I'm loud?" Elijah leaned down for a kiss. "Maybe I'm just enthusiastic. Are you saying I'm loud?"
"It's more the entire neighbourhood saying you're loud," answered Sean. "I've seen grown men duck when you start."
"Well that's just not possible," said Elijah, shifting slightly on Sean's lap. "Because you'd be here when I was doing that ... most of the time."
"Well just maybe I'm the grown man then," Sean said thoughtfully, finally moving his hands from Elijah's legs and resting them on his belly. "I apologise for ducking."
"I'm not loud," Elijah protested. He smiled. "Want me to prove it?" He shifted so that he was lying full length on Sean and kissed him deeply, laughing softly when Sean moaned.
"I'm not the noisy one," he said, trailing his lips down Sean's throat.
"Oh yes you are," Sean said, putting his hands on Elijah's hips and pulling him close.
*
Afterwards, tangled together, hot and sweaty, Sean lifted his hand and brushed a finger down Elijah's face, kissing him softly. Elijah purred in response, but didn't open his eyes.
"Ionuin."
"What random scramble of letters is that?" Elijah nuzzled Sean's throat. "What does that mean?"
"It means beloved."
The End
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