[fic] Morningtide
Title: Morningtide
Author: Clay
Pairing: Jeff/Wayne
Rating: R-ish
Summary: A lazy morning with darker implications.
Author’s Notes: This comes from the fact that Jeff and Wayne used to work together on Kwik Witz before Whose Line and that has taken to intriguing me lately. Takes place somewhere in 1997. (which is actually incorrect now that I've done more research. should be 1999, but then the plot doesn't work.)
Word Count: 1,100
The slant of light spilling in the window told him-in as much as he could read the sun-that it was late morning. Ten or eleven maybe, the light bright and warm, the shadows of his sneakers laying haphazardly across the carpet almost non existent.
His cock was just as high, he noticed with the slightest of smiles. It stemmed from the mass of dark curls, half hard and yet rising further, thickening as his eyes stayed locked upon it.
“It is way too fucking early to be so fucking proud of yourself. Move!”
Wayne smiled up at Jeff but scooted over obediently, making room for the other man on the thin bed. “Early?” He asked, though the soft, lilting tone had the question seeming more an amusement, a bit of pondering spoken aloud for no other reason than to simply hear his own voice. “It has to be almost noon, and in fact-“
“In fact,” Jeff cut him off, stifling a yawn as he flopped onto the bed, curled against Wayne’s side and laid his head down carefully on his chest, one hand pressed against the heated, dark skin before him, fingers absently curling against the warmth. He paused for a moment and then grinned a Cheshire grin, turning his chin up even as his cheek stayed pressed to Wayne’s chest, catching Wayne’s eyes as his smile widened. “In fact,” he said again, “I don’t give a fuck about ‘In fact.’ I’m tired, and you’re horny, and the world’s not going to stop turning if we just stay here and fuck the rest of the day, so....”
The hand curled against Wayne’s chest lifted, hovered idly in the air over his stomach as Jeff’s smile grew impossibly wider. It started to drift downward, almost of its own accord, until Wayne snapped his hand out, latching onto Jeff’s wrist and halting the movement with a startling severity, his own answering smirk dark and wry.
“No,” he said.
Jeff blinked at him a moment, his full lips drawing down into a mock pout even as he pressed closer, nudging his own limp, warm dick against Wayne’s hip.
“But-“
“We’re out of a job if you can’t remember,” Wayne continued undeterred. “The show’s been canceled, and if we don’t go out and make rent, no, the world won’t stop turning, but we’ll be out on the street, and you know we can’t miss this audition...”
“It’s not for hours,” Jeff put in, softly, as Wayne continued to ramble. The smile had dropped from his mouth only to be replaced with the resignation of someone who’d rehashed a certain subject a thousand times and counting.
“...we have to go together. We know we can do this, but the competition is going to be stiff, and besides, this is our dream, our inspiration, our chance, our chance to be something, to finally get some recognition...”
Jeff had felt Wayne’s grip loosen, and he let his hand drop onto Wayne’s lower stomach out of weariness rather than lust now.
“I just want to make people laugh,” Jeff said, still quiet but with an air of finality.
It gave Wayne pause, and for a moment they simply watched each other, hanging on the precipice of an old argument.
After another minute, Wayne let his hand fall, too, covering Jeff’s in the subtlest of comforts.
“You know that’s....” He trailed off when Jeff looked away, sick of hearing those same words so many times over.
Wayne frowned then. He heaved a sigh and twisted, turned to face Jeff, to press his face against the long, pale column of Jeff’s neck, his lips moving almost inaudibly against the skin.
“...that’s all I want, too,” he whispered. “But I’m tired of living paycheck to paycheck. I’m tired of being nobody.”
Jeff lay a hand against Wayne’s back, drew him close instinctively, and he still couldn’t smile.
“You’re not nobody,” he replied, resigned, knowing that Wayne wouldn’t listen. He never had before.
Wayne didn’t answer. Instead they lay together, eyes closed, heartbeats rapid with fear and loathing for a continued conversation that never went anywhere but round and round in endless circles, always turning up at any inopportune moment. Jeff’s fingers skirted up and down along the length of Wayne’s spine absently, and Wayne pressed yet closer.
“We’re going,” Jeff said after another few minutes of absolute silence. “I never said we weren’t.”
“Just do your best,” Wayne replied, the words muffled against Jeff’s throat.
“I always do.”
“No, you don’t. Not when you’re like this,” Wayne countered gently. “Not when you think too much.”
Jeff finally smirked again, the longing for this conversation to be at an end, no matter how short the respite, too strong to ignore. “Not when I haven’t gotten laid,” he corrected, drawing away to catch Wayne’s eyes, his own glittering with forced mischief. Wayne smirked back, though the tension remained.
“I think you need to get your priorities straight.”
“I could say the same for you....”
Jeff’s hand was sneaking over Wayne’s hip now, creeping toward Wayne’s now wilted erection, and Wayne smiled, soft and happy, simply relieved to be back in lighter territory.
“How about...,” he said, then paused, his eyes sliding shut as Jeff trailed two fingers along his shaft and it stirred slightly at the teasing touch, “...we take this into the shower...?”
“Two birds with one stone?”
Wayne gave a weak nod, his eyes opening once more.
“Always the business man,” Jeff quipped. Jeff was grinning at him still, though there was something just below the surface, something that made Wayne consider, if just for a moment, that maybe he was making a mistake, that maybe he could lose everything in the end if he kept this up, but he squashed that thought as soon as it surfaced, the tight curling of his fingers around Jeff’s biceps the only hint of his sudden indecision.
“And you’re a fucking hippie, “ he shot back through a dry throat. Jeff’s grin turned genuine, and Wayne relaxed enough to pull away, to sit up and stretch, his grin widening. “But I love you anyway.”
Jeff let out a soft chuckle, throwing one arm back and over the edge of the bed to scoop up and lob a sock at Wayne’s face, sending them both into a fit of giggles, of scrambling and playful wrestling, of a casually tossed about “Diva!” and “Bum!” made nearly indistinct for laughter before they chased each other across the room and into the bathroom. The door slammed shut, locking out the outside world, if just for a moment.
End.