李杏 | Frances J., a lion-hearted girl (
perfectworry) wrote2013-04-07 11:31 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[fanfiction: shi/ft] This Hush
title: This Hush
fandom:
DrKotobuki's
shiftverse
community:
writerverse
prompt: Phase #6: Challenge #04: Table of Doom: Picture: Eiffel Tower
word count: 635
pairing: Nikos Vallas/Abel Cross
rating: PG
summary: Abel comes home after two months away on business.
Abel stepped softly through the dark apartment, sock feet quiet across the hardwood floors. Nikos left the hallway light on for him, but he switched it off when he came inside and now he crept through the hazy twilight of the city after closing time.
He peered into Nikos's bedroom and found it abandoned, blankets kicked off the bed. The sight made Abel sad; Nikos had tried to fall asleep here, and given up, because Abel promised he would be home and then returned much later without even a phone call.
There was a bottle of white wine in the fridge, too, and some home cooking in Tupperware containers.
Abel sighed. He found Nikos asleep in the big bed, cocooned in the comforter, curled up hugging Abel's pillow to his chest. Abel sat down on his own side of the bed and started undoing his tie. Nikos, apparently not so deeply asleep as Abel believed, inchwormed over to him, still tangled up in the sheets.
Nikos slipped his arms around Abel's waist and wiggled free of the covers so he could wrap his arms around Abel, too, and rested his head on Abel's shoulder. "Lemme help you with that, baby." His voice was thick with sleep and something else. Abel knew Nikos swore off sleeping around when he came home from long business trips.
Nikos slithered the tie around his hands before leisurely unbuttoning Abel's shirt and tossing it aside. Abel allowed Nikos to pull him backwards onto the bed, and he rolled over to face his sweetheart. Nikos hooked his fingers through the belt loops of Abel's slacks and slid them down. Abel kicked them off, and his briefs. He saw the curve of Nikos's smile at his plain underclothes, which Nikos constantly tried to replace and complained about so often that it had become a comfortable part of their routine, for nights like this, when Nikos was interested in routine.
If Nikos had any plans for tonight, they would have to wait. Abel's eyelids drooped despite himself and his eagerness to see his lover. He caught a red eye from France, the last flight out of Paris until the next morning, but he hadn't been able to sleep at all on the plane despite the flat reclining seats in the first class cabin, too anxious to be back in New York. Once he hit the familiar streets, he nearly dozed off in the taxi, lulled by the sights and smells of a city he had long ago learned to call home.
Nikos nuzzled him affectionately, but his hands stayed decidedly above the waist, although he tangled his legs in with Abel's. This was the part Abel had been most eager for after almost two months away from home. Two months in a five star hotel with a picturesque view of the Eiffel Tower was still two months away from the comforts of home, the feel of Nikos's heartbeat next to his own and Nikos's skin against his. After two months of relying on his rusty French, the customs officer welcoming him home in English and way Nikos talked to himself in Greek came as a relief.
Abel had never learned Greek, except to greet his mother-in-law, but on nights like this he knew it didn't matter how much he could translate of what Nikos murmured when they lay in bed together half asleep, because he understood what it meant: he was home.
Abel dozed off contentedly with Nikos petting his hair. Hours later, after his deepest sleep in what felt like years, Abel woke in much the same position he had drifted off in, except for one thing: sometime in the night, Nikos had wrapped his arms around Abel and was hugging him tightly, unwilling to let him go again any time soon.
fandom:
community:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
prompt: Phase #6: Challenge #04: Table of Doom: Picture: Eiffel Tower
word count: 635
pairing: Nikos Vallas/Abel Cross
rating: PG
summary: Abel comes home after two months away on business.
Abel stepped softly through the dark apartment, sock feet quiet across the hardwood floors. Nikos left the hallway light on for him, but he switched it off when he came inside and now he crept through the hazy twilight of the city after closing time.
He peered into Nikos's bedroom and found it abandoned, blankets kicked off the bed. The sight made Abel sad; Nikos had tried to fall asleep here, and given up, because Abel promised he would be home and then returned much later without even a phone call.
There was a bottle of white wine in the fridge, too, and some home cooking in Tupperware containers.
Abel sighed. He found Nikos asleep in the big bed, cocooned in the comforter, curled up hugging Abel's pillow to his chest. Abel sat down on his own side of the bed and started undoing his tie. Nikos, apparently not so deeply asleep as Abel believed, inchwormed over to him, still tangled up in the sheets.
Nikos slipped his arms around Abel's waist and wiggled free of the covers so he could wrap his arms around Abel, too, and rested his head on Abel's shoulder. "Lemme help you with that, baby." His voice was thick with sleep and something else. Abel knew Nikos swore off sleeping around when he came home from long business trips.
Nikos slithered the tie around his hands before leisurely unbuttoning Abel's shirt and tossing it aside. Abel allowed Nikos to pull him backwards onto the bed, and he rolled over to face his sweetheart. Nikos hooked his fingers through the belt loops of Abel's slacks and slid them down. Abel kicked them off, and his briefs. He saw the curve of Nikos's smile at his plain underclothes, which Nikos constantly tried to replace and complained about so often that it had become a comfortable part of their routine, for nights like this, when Nikos was interested in routine.
If Nikos had any plans for tonight, they would have to wait. Abel's eyelids drooped despite himself and his eagerness to see his lover. He caught a red eye from France, the last flight out of Paris until the next morning, but he hadn't been able to sleep at all on the plane despite the flat reclining seats in the first class cabin, too anxious to be back in New York. Once he hit the familiar streets, he nearly dozed off in the taxi, lulled by the sights and smells of a city he had long ago learned to call home.
Nikos nuzzled him affectionately, but his hands stayed decidedly above the waist, although he tangled his legs in with Abel's. This was the part Abel had been most eager for after almost two months away from home. Two months in a five star hotel with a picturesque view of the Eiffel Tower was still two months away from the comforts of home, the feel of Nikos's heartbeat next to his own and Nikos's skin against his. After two months of relying on his rusty French, the customs officer welcoming him home in English and way Nikos talked to himself in Greek came as a relief.
Abel had never learned Greek, except to greet his mother-in-law, but on nights like this he knew it didn't matter how much he could translate of what Nikos murmured when they lay in bed together half asleep, because he understood what it meant: he was home.
Abel dozed off contentedly with Nikos petting his hair. Hours later, after his deepest sleep in what felt like years, Abel woke in much the same position he had drifted off in, except for one thing: sometime in the night, Nikos had wrapped his arms around Abel and was hugging him tightly, unwilling to let him go again any time soon.