(no subject)
Title: Dawning is the Day
Fandom: none; original characters
Word Count: 291
Warnings: PG-13. Two characters in bed, but nothing explicit
Even though he had taken the day off, Vic's internal clock still woke him up at six. He tossed and turned for a few minutes, trying to find a cool spot on his pillow. Finally, he gave up and untangled himself from the sheets. He pushed the covers back and swung his feet to the floor, careful not to disturb the warm body next to him.
Vic stood in the doorway, looking out into the living room. He'd left his glasses by the bed, so all he saw were blurry shapes, some half hidden in shadow. But he wasn't interested in what he could or couldn't see. It was the quiet he enjoyed. None of his neighbours would be moving for a while yet; even the birds hadn't started tuning up yet. The air conditioner clicked off and the refrigerator ceased its humming at almost the same moment. He could hear the distant swish of an occasional car several streets away. There was nothing else to accompany the steady rise and fall of his own breath.
He didn't know how Cameron stood living in the city, with its constant background noise. That was just one of the reasons he preferred their nights at his house. (Also, Cameron's walls were very thin; apparently, Cameron lived next door to a couple named "oh God" and "oh baby.")
"'s going on?" Cameron's voice was thick with sleep.
Vic turned back to his partner. "Just listening," he replied.
"To what?"
"Nothing." He slid back into bed next to Cameron, curling up on his side and pulling one of Cameron's arms around his waist. Cameron snuggled closer to Vic's back, and Vic concentrated on his second favourite morning sound: the sound of his lover's light breathing.
Fandom: none; original characters
Word Count: 291
Warnings: PG-13. Two characters in bed, but nothing explicit
Even though he had taken the day off, Vic's internal clock still woke him up at six. He tossed and turned for a few minutes, trying to find a cool spot on his pillow. Finally, he gave up and untangled himself from the sheets. He pushed the covers back and swung his feet to the floor, careful not to disturb the warm body next to him.
Vic stood in the doorway, looking out into the living room. He'd left his glasses by the bed, so all he saw were blurry shapes, some half hidden in shadow. But he wasn't interested in what he could or couldn't see. It was the quiet he enjoyed. None of his neighbours would be moving for a while yet; even the birds hadn't started tuning up yet. The air conditioner clicked off and the refrigerator ceased its humming at almost the same moment. He could hear the distant swish of an occasional car several streets away. There was nothing else to accompany the steady rise and fall of his own breath.
He didn't know how Cameron stood living in the city, with its constant background noise. That was just one of the reasons he preferred their nights at his house. (Also, Cameron's walls were very thin; apparently, Cameron lived next door to a couple named "oh God" and "oh baby.")
"'s going on?" Cameron's voice was thick with sleep.
Vic turned back to his partner. "Just listening," he replied.
"To what?"
"Nothing." He slid back into bed next to Cameron, curling up on his side and pulling one of Cameron's arms around his waist. Cameron snuggled closer to Vic's back, and Vic concentrated on his second favourite morning sound: the sound of his lover's light breathing.