fic: thief - a drabble (christeson/stafford) pg-13 for bad words~
Title: thief
Fandom: Generation Kill
Pairing: Q-tip/Christeson
Rating: Pg-13 for the swearing and two guys in a bed together
Summary: drabble about a chilly fall morning and the OTP.
Word Count: 438
Fall weather had ghosted in from cold fronts on the gulf. Christeson felt the chill beneath a down blanket and sheet, both pulled up to his chin. He shifted, trying to burrow deeper to the warmth in the mattress and pillows. He kept his eyes shut away from even the possibility that sunlight could filter through blinds and blackout panels.
The shock of cold to his ankle made his leg jerk back on instinct. From beyond his cocoon he heard a grumble. The chill returned and now John could recognize the outline of icy toes curling against his hot-by-comparison calf.
“Evan,” John outright whined and uncurled an arm from against his chest to give Q-tip’s back a shove.
His hand stopped palm flat on goose bumped skin. The reply came as a grunt followed by the mattress shivering and adjusting beneath them. He felt the weight of Evan’s back press against his hand, pushing until it became flush with John’s chest.
“Cold,” Evan grumbled.
His goose pimple skin pressed against John’s chest elicited a sigh of relief. John shivered almost recoiling from the cold. He lifted his arm, the same one he’d used to shove Q-tip in the first place, and reached out fingers gaining purchase on skin. He’s not sure exactly where his hand has landed, but he ran it forward over skin until he hit mattress and his arm is draped around Evan.
“Get warm,” John invites, pulling Evan closer, if that’s possible.
“Covers,” Evan complains.
Christeson lifted his cheek from his pillow and squinted down at the bed and Q-tip balled up with only a corner of the sheet pulled over his waist and hips. John groaned and pulled his arm back. He lifted the sheet and blanket from his own body and hefted the whole lot forward to cover Q-tip in the mess of bedding that he’d pulled tight around him. Evan made a content noise, dipped forward to pull the outer edges of blanket and sheet up to his chin and then edged backward so that his back is still against John’s warm chest.
“Fuckin thief,” Q-tip’s voice carried his goofy smirk with it.
Christeson also smiled and draped his arm around Q-tip beneath the covers.
“My bad,” he offered, then pressing his lips to the nape of Evan’s neck.
Another content sigh marked the quiet in the room. Evan let go of the covers he’d pulled up tight and ran his fingers over John’s wrist, covering John’s hand. His slender fingers weaved between John’s and he made no further movement. John rested his cheek to pillow feeling devoid of the fall chill.
Fandom: Generation Kill
Pairing: Q-tip/Christeson
Rating: Pg-13 for the swearing and two guys in a bed together
Summary: drabble about a chilly fall morning and the OTP.
Word Count: 438
Fall weather had ghosted in from cold fronts on the gulf. Christeson felt the chill beneath a down blanket and sheet, both pulled up to his chin. He shifted, trying to burrow deeper to the warmth in the mattress and pillows. He kept his eyes shut away from even the possibility that sunlight could filter through blinds and blackout panels.
The shock of cold to his ankle made his leg jerk back on instinct. From beyond his cocoon he heard a grumble. The chill returned and now John could recognize the outline of icy toes curling against his hot-by-comparison calf.
“Evan,” John outright whined and uncurled an arm from against his chest to give Q-tip’s back a shove.
His hand stopped palm flat on goose bumped skin. The reply came as a grunt followed by the mattress shivering and adjusting beneath them. He felt the weight of Evan’s back press against his hand, pushing until it became flush with John’s chest.
“Cold,” Evan grumbled.
His goose pimple skin pressed against John’s chest elicited a sigh of relief. John shivered almost recoiling from the cold. He lifted his arm, the same one he’d used to shove Q-tip in the first place, and reached out fingers gaining purchase on skin. He’s not sure exactly where his hand has landed, but he ran it forward over skin until he hit mattress and his arm is draped around Evan.
“Get warm,” John invites, pulling Evan closer, if that’s possible.
“Covers,” Evan complains.
Christeson lifted his cheek from his pillow and squinted down at the bed and Q-tip balled up with only a corner of the sheet pulled over his waist and hips. John groaned and pulled his arm back. He lifted the sheet and blanket from his own body and hefted the whole lot forward to cover Q-tip in the mess of bedding that he’d pulled tight around him. Evan made a content noise, dipped forward to pull the outer edges of blanket and sheet up to his chin and then edged backward so that his back is still against John’s warm chest.
“Fuckin thief,” Q-tip’s voice carried his goofy smirk with it.
Christeson also smiled and draped his arm around Q-tip beneath the covers.
“My bad,” he offered, then pressing his lips to the nape of Evan’s neck.
Another content sigh marked the quiet in the room. Evan let go of the covers he’d pulled up tight and ran his fingers over John’s wrist, covering John’s hand. His slender fingers weaved between John’s and he made no further movement. John rested his cheek to pillow feeling devoid of the fall chill.