Lost Fic: The First Day of the Rest of Our Life (Or How...) (Miles/Richard)
Title: The First Day of the Rest of Our Life (Or How to Convince a Ghostbuster to Take Off His Pants)
Pairing: Miles/Richard
Rating: R (Sexual content)
Words: 906
Spoilers: Through the finale.
Disclaimer: Not my boys.
Summary: There will be plenty of time for decisions later. The first night’s for drinking.
A/N: This was written in like an hour, but I had to get it out there. It’s kind of silly and damn near fluffy, but what can I say? These guys deserve a little happy time.
“So, what are you going to do now?”
It’s a valid question. The guy’s over one hundred years old, it’s not like he’s got an old college buddy’s couch to crash on.
Richard grins, an actual honest to goodness grin, and shakes his head. Miles gets the sense Richard is pretty much okay with having no idea what’s going to happen next.
“I don’t know. Anything. Everything. Any suggestions?” Richard asks.
Miles pretends to consider his answer for all of five seconds.
“Encino’s awesome this time of year.”
***
So he didn’t want to be alone. So sue him. Kate and Claire are off to Australia to find their kid, James trailing along behind them because he’s not sure what else to do and Frank’s going to go back to doing whatever the hell it is that Frank does, so that just leaves Miles and the guy formerly known as an immortal. And the thing is Richard is downright giddy. The rest of them are carrying around all of this baggage and pain and it hurts to look at them, but not Richard. The guy looks completely and utterly alive and it draws Miles to him like some sort of kamikaze moth about to get his ass burned by a flame.
But he does it anyway.
They go home together. Well, they go to Encino together. Miles doesn’t have a home per se. But Richard it turns out has money courtesy of Ben and those clueless Dharma benefactors so they get a room in a hotel that Miles never would have been able to afford on his old salary, such as it was.
Of course now he has a pocketful of diamonds, but hey, Richard said it was his treat.
Miles collapses on one of the beds the minute they get in the room. It’s soft and there’s an air conditioner and a fully stocked mini bar in the corner. If Miles believed in heaven he’s pretty sure it would be this room.
Richard stretches out beside Miles and sighs.
“I think I’m going to get very drunk,” he says.
Miles sits up, despite his body’s protests and arches an eyebrow at Richard.
“What the hell has gotten into you, man?”
“I’ve spent most of my life on that island doing everything Jacob and Ben asked me to do, neither of them ever asked me to get drunk. It sounds like a nice change of pace.”
Richard pushes himself off the bed and kneels down beside the mini-bar leaving Miles alone, slack-jawed and vaguely stunned.
“Did you just make a joke?”
Richard tosses Miles a tiny bottle of vodka, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“I think maybe I did.”
***
They get drunk obviously. There may have been singing. No there was definitely singing, Miles distinctly remembers teaching Richard the chorus to “Wanted: Dead or Alive.” And then somewhere between Miles’s story about the first time he figured out he could talk to dead things and Richard’s sad confession about how he hadn’t been laid since the ‘70s their pants came off.
Richard Alpert it turns out is a damn good kisser. He does things with his tongue that are only slightly more impressive than the things he does with his hands. And the fact that he’s doing these things to Miles, these running his tongue down Miles’s belly, wrapping his warm hand around Miles’s cock things…well, it doesn’t seem as wrong as Miles thought it would.
“Hey, are you sure about this?” Miles manages to mutter right before Richard wraps his lips around Miles’s right nipple and gives it a gentle nip.
Richard pulls back for a moment and just looks at Miles and Miles resists the urge to reach out for him. It’s only a few seconds, but he already misses the contact, the warmth. This is the moment he realizes he’s pretty much a goner.
“I’m positive about this. Are you?” Richard asks.
There are a number of things Miles could have done at this point. He could have said no, I’m pretty fucking sure this is insane. He could have gotten up, found his pants, and left Richard to seize his day all on his own. He could have at least pretended to be his usual aloof, non-committal self.
But here’s the thing. He just survived the island of doom and despair. He’s lost three years of his life and he could wallow in that, he really could or he could have amazing sex with this guy who gets it, this guy who’s been through the same shit he has, more even.
He knows that eventually the giddiness is going to give way to freaking out and Richard’s going to need someone to show him how to live a normal life. Miles is hardly the poster child for normal, but lying here in this bed with Richard looming above him looking far younger than he has any right to, he finds that he kind of wants to be that person for him.
So he sits up and wraps his hand around the back of Richard’s neck and whispers in his ear because he’s drunk and feeling just this side of melodramatic.
“I’m abso-fucking-lutely sure that I want this.”
***
Morning comes and Miles wakes up to find Richard curled around him, his face relaxed and content. He expects to feel regret settling in his stomach or at the very least panic.
He just feels hungry and grateful and mostly very, very alive.
Richard yawns and snuggles closer.
“What should we do today?”
Miles smiles.
“You ever had a fish taco?”
Pairing: Miles/Richard
Rating: R (Sexual content)
Words: 906
Spoilers: Through the finale.
Disclaimer: Not my boys.
Summary: There will be plenty of time for decisions later. The first night’s for drinking.
A/N: This was written in like an hour, but I had to get it out there. It’s kind of silly and damn near fluffy, but what can I say? These guys deserve a little happy time.
“So, what are you going to do now?”
It’s a valid question. The guy’s over one hundred years old, it’s not like he’s got an old college buddy’s couch to crash on.
Richard grins, an actual honest to goodness grin, and shakes his head. Miles gets the sense Richard is pretty much okay with having no idea what’s going to happen next.
“I don’t know. Anything. Everything. Any suggestions?” Richard asks.
Miles pretends to consider his answer for all of five seconds.
“Encino’s awesome this time of year.”
***
So he didn’t want to be alone. So sue him. Kate and Claire are off to Australia to find their kid, James trailing along behind them because he’s not sure what else to do and Frank’s going to go back to doing whatever the hell it is that Frank does, so that just leaves Miles and the guy formerly known as an immortal. And the thing is Richard is downright giddy. The rest of them are carrying around all of this baggage and pain and it hurts to look at them, but not Richard. The guy looks completely and utterly alive and it draws Miles to him like some sort of kamikaze moth about to get his ass burned by a flame.
But he does it anyway.
They go home together. Well, they go to Encino together. Miles doesn’t have a home per se. But Richard it turns out has money courtesy of Ben and those clueless Dharma benefactors so they get a room in a hotel that Miles never would have been able to afford on his old salary, such as it was.
Of course now he has a pocketful of diamonds, but hey, Richard said it was his treat.
Miles collapses on one of the beds the minute they get in the room. It’s soft and there’s an air conditioner and a fully stocked mini bar in the corner. If Miles believed in heaven he’s pretty sure it would be this room.
Richard stretches out beside Miles and sighs.
“I think I’m going to get very drunk,” he says.
Miles sits up, despite his body’s protests and arches an eyebrow at Richard.
“What the hell has gotten into you, man?”
“I’ve spent most of my life on that island doing everything Jacob and Ben asked me to do, neither of them ever asked me to get drunk. It sounds like a nice change of pace.”
Richard pushes himself off the bed and kneels down beside the mini-bar leaving Miles alone, slack-jawed and vaguely stunned.
“Did you just make a joke?”
Richard tosses Miles a tiny bottle of vodka, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“I think maybe I did.”
***
They get drunk obviously. There may have been singing. No there was definitely singing, Miles distinctly remembers teaching Richard the chorus to “Wanted: Dead or Alive.” And then somewhere between Miles’s story about the first time he figured out he could talk to dead things and Richard’s sad confession about how he hadn’t been laid since the ‘70s their pants came off.
Richard Alpert it turns out is a damn good kisser. He does things with his tongue that are only slightly more impressive than the things he does with his hands. And the fact that he’s doing these things to Miles, these running his tongue down Miles’s belly, wrapping his warm hand around Miles’s cock things…well, it doesn’t seem as wrong as Miles thought it would.
“Hey, are you sure about this?” Miles manages to mutter right before Richard wraps his lips around Miles’s right nipple and gives it a gentle nip.
Richard pulls back for a moment and just looks at Miles and Miles resists the urge to reach out for him. It’s only a few seconds, but he already misses the contact, the warmth. This is the moment he realizes he’s pretty much a goner.
“I’m positive about this. Are you?” Richard asks.
There are a number of things Miles could have done at this point. He could have said no, I’m pretty fucking sure this is insane. He could have gotten up, found his pants, and left Richard to seize his day all on his own. He could have at least pretended to be his usual aloof, non-committal self.
But here’s the thing. He just survived the island of doom and despair. He’s lost three years of his life and he could wallow in that, he really could or he could have amazing sex with this guy who gets it, this guy who’s been through the same shit he has, more even.
He knows that eventually the giddiness is going to give way to freaking out and Richard’s going to need someone to show him how to live a normal life. Miles is hardly the poster child for normal, but lying here in this bed with Richard looming above him looking far younger than he has any right to, he finds that he kind of wants to be that person for him.
So he sits up and wraps his hand around the back of Richard’s neck and whispers in his ear because he’s drunk and feeling just this side of melodramatic.
“I’m abso-fucking-lutely sure that I want this.”
***
Morning comes and Miles wakes up to find Richard curled around him, his face relaxed and content. He expects to feel regret settling in his stomach or at the very least panic.
He just feels hungry and grateful and mostly very, very alive.
Richard yawns and snuggles closer.
“What should we do today?”
Miles smiles.
“You ever had a fish taco?”