By the Light of the Rising Sun (Jack/Sky. SPD)
Title: By the Light of the Rising Sun
Pairing: Jack/Sky
Rating: PG-13
AN: Writer!Jack yet again (yes, I have a lot of this at the moment, so hush). Comes after What You’re Waiting For and before Having the Last Word
The sun shone in through the curtains, warm light of the early morning spilling in and across the floor of the bedroom. Eyes open mere slits, Jack smiled to himself at the familiar sight of Sky sitting by the window, sketch book in hand, making the most of the light and, doubtless, his own apparent state of slumber. Closing his eyes again Jack simply listened, the faint sounds of Sky’s pencil moving over the paper was soothing and he was no longer flustered by the fact that Sky drew pictures of him while he was asleep.
It had caught him off guard at first, because Sky hadn’t mentioned anything about it and it was only when Jack had picked up the sketch book out of sheer boredom that he realised how many pictures of him Sky had done. Sky for his part had turned an interesting shade of pink and snatched the book off him, muttering something unintelligible as he tucked the book away in his beaten up rucksack; the one he used when he wanted to get away from their cramped quarters. Eventually, hopefully, they’d be able to afford a bigger place than Sky’s apartment; a place with space enough for a proper studio for Sky and a room for Jack to write in without distractions, but for now they had to make do. And it could be so much worse, Jack reminded himself. A bigger place might not have this quiet, peaceful atmosphere in the mornings. It was almost worth getting up early just for that.
Almost. They were both relatively early risers; Sky because he liked working with a softer kind of light than the usual sun of a San Fran summer, Jack because he usually got most of his best work done early in the day. His spelling had a habit of deteriorating as the day went on, his fingers flying over the keyboard too fast to spell everything properly on a first run through. Of course, much of his morning was spent fixing the mistakes he’d made the previous day, but that was beside the point. Of the two of them though, Sky was usually the first one up, if only so he could sketch in peace; Jack had a tendency to fidget if Sky tried sketching him later in the day. It didn’t hurt that Sky usually didn’t bother getting dressed when he got up to sketch, although that would no doubt change as the weather got colder and less welcoming to bare skin.
Sometimes though, sometimes Jack was the first one awake and he made the most of it, taking the opportunity to study Sky’s face free of its ever changing expressions. Mercurial by nature, Sky could be relaxed one moment then spitting fury the next, generally existing in state of amused annoyance with life and its vagaries. When he was asleep, however, that all changed. There was a peace there that Jack never saw when Sky was awake; the absolute absence of tension. He wondered what it was Sky saw in him in the early mornings, when apparently he couldn’t resist the urge to pick up his sketch book and pencil, taking himself over to the window and the warm light of the sunrise.
Of course, Sky’s peaceful expression could be deceptive. Jack vividly remembered the time he’d cheerfully woken up Sky, only for Sky to rudely tell him what exactly he could do with all that early morning bounce. It hadn’t been long since he’d moved in so Jack had been a little concerned - and a little offended truth be told - until it sank in that Sky wasn’t a morning person if he was woken up prematurely. Depending on the method of waking anyway, Jack thought in amusement: early morning blow jobs left Sky in a wonderful mood, point of fact. He’d once teased Sky about being a little ray of sunshine in the mornings, from a careful distance away, of course, he wasn’t that much of an idiot; Sky wasn’t your stereotypical dreamy-eyed artist, after all. He did, however, fit the obsessive and overly-critical image very well. Somehow, however, that supposedly ‘safe distance’ hadn’t been quite safe enough and he’d found himself tumbled back onto the bed and tormented into taking back the insult.
The nickname had stuck though - as nicknames were wont to do - and Sky had, reluctantly and after a great deal of resistance, adjusted to being called Sunshine. On the strict understanding that it was only to be used when they were at home and alone, naturally. It was the only pet name he’d tolerate outside of the bedroom and things that had a way of slipping out unnoticed. He snorted softly, then winced in chagrin. Damn. Now Sky would know he was awake.
Sure enough, Sky was looking over at him, eyes crinkling at the corners, face lit up with a warm smile that Jack didn’t get to see nearly often enough. “I was wondering when you were going to ‘wake up,’” he teased. “You’re not as good at pretending to be asleep as you think you are.” Jack stuck his tongue out at him and Sky’s smile morphed into a mock-frown, pencil now pointing at him sternly. “Watch it, or you might end up stuck like that.”
“Which wouldn’t be nearly as fun for you as you’d like to think,” Jack retorted. “Because if I stick like that then there’s certain things I won’t be able to do anymore.” Like certain early morning blow jobs. Or afternoon quickies. Or the lovemaking that could go from fast and furious to slow and leisurely.
Sky’s mouth quirked downwards into a moue as he pretended to consider the not so subtle threat. “This is true,” he conceded finally. “I suppose you can get away with it this time.”
“Thanks,” Jack replied dryly. “So very generous of you.”
Sky waved a hand loftily in his direction. “Of course. What else would you expect?”
“You really want me to answer that?”
Sky paused. “No.”
Jack grinned. “Good answer. Now,” he continued lightly, “do you want me to pose or can I get up?”
“You can get up,” Sky replied promptly, leaving Jack more disappointed than he’d expected.
“Really?” he asked, trying to keep the plaintive note out of his voice. Without success. For all that Sky’s talent lay with pencil, paint and paper, he had a remarkably good ear and an ability to pick up tiny nuances that Jack sometimes envied.
Sky’s mouth twitched suspiciously. “I’m pretty much done with this one,” he replied blandly. “Of course, if you don’t have anything else to be working on I’m sure I can come up with something.”
Jack did, actually, have something he was supposed to be working on. That second draft was killing him and the necessary research into economics was mind-numbingly boring; he’d welcome any excuse to put it all off for a while longer. Lounging back against the pillows he grinned as Sky just stared for a moment before he pulled himself together and flipped over the page.
Now this was how early mornings should always go.
Link to table
Pairing: Jack/Sky
Rating: PG-13
AN: Writer!Jack yet again (yes, I have a lot of this at the moment, so hush). Comes after What You’re Waiting For and before Having the Last Word
The sun shone in through the curtains, warm light of the early morning spilling in and across the floor of the bedroom. Eyes open mere slits, Jack smiled to himself at the familiar sight of Sky sitting by the window, sketch book in hand, making the most of the light and, doubtless, his own apparent state of slumber. Closing his eyes again Jack simply listened, the faint sounds of Sky’s pencil moving over the paper was soothing and he was no longer flustered by the fact that Sky drew pictures of him while he was asleep.
It had caught him off guard at first, because Sky hadn’t mentioned anything about it and it was only when Jack had picked up the sketch book out of sheer boredom that he realised how many pictures of him Sky had done. Sky for his part had turned an interesting shade of pink and snatched the book off him, muttering something unintelligible as he tucked the book away in his beaten up rucksack; the one he used when he wanted to get away from their cramped quarters. Eventually, hopefully, they’d be able to afford a bigger place than Sky’s apartment; a place with space enough for a proper studio for Sky and a room for Jack to write in without distractions, but for now they had to make do. And it could be so much worse, Jack reminded himself. A bigger place might not have this quiet, peaceful atmosphere in the mornings. It was almost worth getting up early just for that.
Almost. They were both relatively early risers; Sky because he liked working with a softer kind of light than the usual sun of a San Fran summer, Jack because he usually got most of his best work done early in the day. His spelling had a habit of deteriorating as the day went on, his fingers flying over the keyboard too fast to spell everything properly on a first run through. Of course, much of his morning was spent fixing the mistakes he’d made the previous day, but that was beside the point. Of the two of them though, Sky was usually the first one up, if only so he could sketch in peace; Jack had a tendency to fidget if Sky tried sketching him later in the day. It didn’t hurt that Sky usually didn’t bother getting dressed when he got up to sketch, although that would no doubt change as the weather got colder and less welcoming to bare skin.
Sometimes though, sometimes Jack was the first one awake and he made the most of it, taking the opportunity to study Sky’s face free of its ever changing expressions. Mercurial by nature, Sky could be relaxed one moment then spitting fury the next, generally existing in state of amused annoyance with life and its vagaries. When he was asleep, however, that all changed. There was a peace there that Jack never saw when Sky was awake; the absolute absence of tension. He wondered what it was Sky saw in him in the early mornings, when apparently he couldn’t resist the urge to pick up his sketch book and pencil, taking himself over to the window and the warm light of the sunrise.
Of course, Sky’s peaceful expression could be deceptive. Jack vividly remembered the time he’d cheerfully woken up Sky, only for Sky to rudely tell him what exactly he could do with all that early morning bounce. It hadn’t been long since he’d moved in so Jack had been a little concerned - and a little offended truth be told - until it sank in that Sky wasn’t a morning person if he was woken up prematurely. Depending on the method of waking anyway, Jack thought in amusement: early morning blow jobs left Sky in a wonderful mood, point of fact. He’d once teased Sky about being a little ray of sunshine in the mornings, from a careful distance away, of course, he wasn’t that much of an idiot; Sky wasn’t your stereotypical dreamy-eyed artist, after all. He did, however, fit the obsessive and overly-critical image very well. Somehow, however, that supposedly ‘safe distance’ hadn’t been quite safe enough and he’d found himself tumbled back onto the bed and tormented into taking back the insult.
The nickname had stuck though - as nicknames were wont to do - and Sky had, reluctantly and after a great deal of resistance, adjusted to being called Sunshine. On the strict understanding that it was only to be used when they were at home and alone, naturally. It was the only pet name he’d tolerate outside of the bedroom and things that had a way of slipping out unnoticed. He snorted softly, then winced in chagrin. Damn. Now Sky would know he was awake.
Sure enough, Sky was looking over at him, eyes crinkling at the corners, face lit up with a warm smile that Jack didn’t get to see nearly often enough. “I was wondering when you were going to ‘wake up,’” he teased. “You’re not as good at pretending to be asleep as you think you are.” Jack stuck his tongue out at him and Sky’s smile morphed into a mock-frown, pencil now pointing at him sternly. “Watch it, or you might end up stuck like that.”
“Which wouldn’t be nearly as fun for you as you’d like to think,” Jack retorted. “Because if I stick like that then there’s certain things I won’t be able to do anymore.” Like certain early morning blow jobs. Or afternoon quickies. Or the lovemaking that could go from fast and furious to slow and leisurely.
Sky’s mouth quirked downwards into a moue as he pretended to consider the not so subtle threat. “This is true,” he conceded finally. “I suppose you can get away with it this time.”
“Thanks,” Jack replied dryly. “So very generous of you.”
Sky waved a hand loftily in his direction. “Of course. What else would you expect?”
“You really want me to answer that?”
Sky paused. “No.”
Jack grinned. “Good answer. Now,” he continued lightly, “do you want me to pose or can I get up?”
“You can get up,” Sky replied promptly, leaving Jack more disappointed than he’d expected.
“Really?” he asked, trying to keep the plaintive note out of his voice. Without success. For all that Sky’s talent lay with pencil, paint and paper, he had a remarkably good ear and an ability to pick up tiny nuances that Jack sometimes envied.
Sky’s mouth twitched suspiciously. “I’m pretty much done with this one,” he replied blandly. “Of course, if you don’t have anything else to be working on I’m sure I can come up with something.”
Jack did, actually, have something he was supposed to be working on. That second draft was killing him and the necessary research into economics was mind-numbingly boring; he’d welcome any excuse to put it all off for a while longer. Lounging back against the pillows he grinned as Sky just stared for a moment before he pulled himself together and flipped over the page.
Now this was how early mornings should always go.
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