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tsuki_no_bara, who requested a ficlet inspired by this icon.
The first morning - first of twelve more, and he didn’t kid himself they were all going to be like this, peaceful and gentle and pregnant with possibilities. But this one was, and he could see others if he let himself. A collage of wrestling with Jamie in the rain until they were both so soaked it didn’t matter who pushed who into the pool, and waking up with Jenna's head on his stomach, and Kas burning toast like being in Spain would suddenly give her the gift of cooking, and crawling through a hangover to slither into the cool silence of the swimming pool.
Last night – the first night – was equally kaleidoscopic. Laughter and teasing and topping each others travel nightmares, and drowning them in cheap wine and sharp sherry. He remembered music, and dancing with Kas in a swirl of comedy in the kitchen, and again with Steve, slow and curious, barely moving under the stars with the music and the lights a million miles and half a meter away through deep set doors. They'd talked, eager and argumentative, familiar faces transformed in candle light, and things had died down imperceptibly and he didn’t remember falling asleep, only that he'd been smiling when he did.
Watching the sunrise was a different kind of happy. His eyes were gritty with postponed sleep, and the air was cool, everywhere except the places that the sun was touching firsthand. It occurred to him that he could go inside. Go in and pick his way around the sleeping bodies of his friends, a complex nest of arms and legs and skin and sleeping bags, and find a shirt, maybe put on shoes and go for a walk or something. Instead he wrapped his arms around his knees and just watched the sun and the waves and the seagulls and the guy right in the distance walking his dog on the pebble beach and breathed it all in. Warmed himself with diffuse joy because it wasn't just some film or a dream or something they talked about when the smoke made everything slow and dreamy and possibly, it was now and here and good.
tsuki_no_bara, who requested a ficlet inspired by this icon. The first morning - first of twelve more, and he didn’t kid himself they were all going to be like this, peaceful and gentle and pregnant with possibilities. But this one was, and he could see others if he let himself. A collage of wrestling with Jamie in the rain until they were both so soaked it didn’t matter who pushed who into the pool, and waking up with Jenna's head on his stomach, and Kas burning toast like being in Spain would suddenly give her the gift of cooking, and crawling through a hangover to slither into the cool silence of the swimming pool.
Last night – the first night – was equally kaleidoscopic. Laughter and teasing and topping each others travel nightmares, and drowning them in cheap wine and sharp sherry. He remembered music, and dancing with Kas in a swirl of comedy in the kitchen, and again with Steve, slow and curious, barely moving under the stars with the music and the lights a million miles and half a meter away through deep set doors. They'd talked, eager and argumentative, familiar faces transformed in candle light, and things had died down imperceptibly and he didn’t remember falling asleep, only that he'd been smiling when he did.
Watching the sunrise was a different kind of happy. His eyes were gritty with postponed sleep, and the air was cool, everywhere except the places that the sun was touching firsthand. It occurred to him that he could go inside. Go in and pick his way around the sleeping bodies of his friends, a complex nest of arms and legs and skin and sleeping bags, and find a shirt, maybe put on shoes and go for a walk or something. Instead he wrapped his arms around his knees and just watched the sun and the waves and the seagulls and the guy right in the distance walking his dog on the pebble beach and breathed it all in. Warmed himself with diffuse joy because it wasn't just some film or a dream or something they talked about when the smoke made everything slow and dreamy and possibly, it was now and here and good.
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