Welcome to LA LA Land 8.2
Title: Welcome to LA LA Land
Fandom: RPS
Story: Highway: Pacific Coast Highway 8.2
Characters: Alan Davies and Robert Sean Leonard
Authors: michelleann68 + evila_elf = evila_ann
Prompt: 10_per_genre 05 Shiver (Fluff)
Word Count: 725
Rating: PG
Summary: Alan finds Robert’s apartment and offers him a preposition.
Authors’ Notes:
Where it all began:
Big table of prompts is here:
Order of the story is here:
Previous story:
Ten Stories Alan Heard on his Flight to LA
Robert paced his apartment once more. Alan was here, in LA, on his way to his apartment. His plane should have landed no more than 20 minutes ago. Once again Robert thought he might need professional help. It seemed so much more real, now that Alan was here. Here. Not at the place he hardly visited in New York, or at Alan’s place in London, but this was his home. Sometimes he felt overwhelmed and today was one of those days. And he wondered what some of the signs of a mid-life crisis were. He was questioning everything, every motive.
Back to the kitchen. He checked the cupboards and refrigerator: Plenty of food that Alan liked and even some beer for them to enjoy. Into the living room: A few movies rented for them to ignore, his small book collection was dusted, twice. Down the hall and into the bedroom: He opened the nightstand, verifying the contents--everything in its place. Robert resumed the circuit, heading back out into the hall where his pacing was interrupted by the ringing of his cell. A quick look at the caller ID to verify the caller and Robert swallowed hard before answering. “Welcome to LA!”
“Cheers, I think we are close.” There was a pause. “I see a deli, and a dry cleaners…”
“You have just described most of LA,” Robert chuckled, sitting down on the edge of the couch and relaxing into the conversation. “Have any street names?” Robert heard a foreign voice in the background, shouting something at Alan.
“According to my cab driver, we are about three minutes away. What was the apartment number?”
“It’s 203, up the stairs to the left.” Robert walked to the window, switching the phone to his other ear, and opened the shade to look out, watching for the cab. He saw it turn the corner into view and his heart sped up a little and his stomach lurched. He was trying to figure out if this would end up being too much of a good thing, when he saw Alan step out of the cab and pay the driver. Alan shielded his eyes as he looked at the building and bounded up the steps.
Robert closed his eyes when Alan disappeared from view, not able to describe what he was feeling. He went to the door and opened it just as Alan was preparing to knock. He stepped back so that he could cross the threshold.
Alan glanced around briefly before he let his gaze set and stay on Robert. Then he stepped forward and enveloped Robert in a tight embrace. Robert buried his nose into his neck, then pulled back, looking confused. Alan caressed his face and asked him what was wrong.
“You smell wrong, not like you, it…”
“You sit on a plane for eight hours with an old woman reeking of perfume who loves her granddog a little too much, some mad-fact spouter--spouting irreverent facts at random--and a family of bubble wrap poppers and see how fresh you smell.” Despite his exasperation, his voice was full of humor as he moved closer to Robert, angling him and pinning him against the door. He lowered his voice, purring against Robert’s ear, “I was going to suggest a nap, but now,” he ran his hand down Robert’s body and felt him shiver at the contact, “maybe a shower first, then nap.” He pulled back and looked into Robert’s eyes, glancing down to watch his Adam’s apple as he thickly swallowed.
“Care to help me wash my back?” Robert asked.
Alan softly pushed at Robert's chest and, laughing, asked him to lead the way.
Robert blushed and headed off down the hall and Alan picked up his bag and followed. “You can set your bag down in the bedroom.”
Alan set the bag down against the far wall and opened it. He rummaged around until he found his small bag of toiletries. When he straightened, bag in hand, and turned, he found Robert leaning against the doorframe, watching him.
“Ready?”
Alan crossed the room, stepping up and giving him a lingering kiss. “More than you know.” He brushed up against Robert as he walked around him and into the bathroom.
Robert took a deep breath, then went towards the bathroom, eager to make good on his promise.
8.03 Sandalwood
Fandom: RPS
Story: Highway: Pacific Coast Highway 8.2
Characters: Alan Davies and Robert Sean Leonard
Authors: michelleann68 + evila_elf = evila_ann
Prompt: 10_per_genre 05 Shiver (Fluff)
Word Count: 725
Rating: PG
Summary: Alan finds Robert’s apartment and offers him a preposition.
Authors’ Notes:
Where it all began:
Big table of prompts is here:
Order of the story is here:
Previous story:
Ten Stories Alan Heard on his Flight to LA
Robert paced his apartment once more. Alan was here, in LA, on his way to his apartment. His plane should have landed no more than 20 minutes ago. Once again Robert thought he might need professional help. It seemed so much more real, now that Alan was here. Here. Not at the place he hardly visited in New York, or at Alan’s place in London, but this was his home. Sometimes he felt overwhelmed and today was one of those days. And he wondered what some of the signs of a mid-life crisis were. He was questioning everything, every motive.
Back to the kitchen. He checked the cupboards and refrigerator: Plenty of food that Alan liked and even some beer for them to enjoy. Into the living room: A few movies rented for them to ignore, his small book collection was dusted, twice. Down the hall and into the bedroom: He opened the nightstand, verifying the contents--everything in its place. Robert resumed the circuit, heading back out into the hall where his pacing was interrupted by the ringing of his cell. A quick look at the caller ID to verify the caller and Robert swallowed hard before answering. “Welcome to LA!”
“Cheers, I think we are close.” There was a pause. “I see a deli, and a dry cleaners…”
“You have just described most of LA,” Robert chuckled, sitting down on the edge of the couch and relaxing into the conversation. “Have any street names?” Robert heard a foreign voice in the background, shouting something at Alan.
“According to my cab driver, we are about three minutes away. What was the apartment number?”
“It’s 203, up the stairs to the left.” Robert walked to the window, switching the phone to his other ear, and opened the shade to look out, watching for the cab. He saw it turn the corner into view and his heart sped up a little and his stomach lurched. He was trying to figure out if this would end up being too much of a good thing, when he saw Alan step out of the cab and pay the driver. Alan shielded his eyes as he looked at the building and bounded up the steps.
Robert closed his eyes when Alan disappeared from view, not able to describe what he was feeling. He went to the door and opened it just as Alan was preparing to knock. He stepped back so that he could cross the threshold.
Alan glanced around briefly before he let his gaze set and stay on Robert. Then he stepped forward and enveloped Robert in a tight embrace. Robert buried his nose into his neck, then pulled back, looking confused. Alan caressed his face and asked him what was wrong.
“You smell wrong, not like you, it…”
“You sit on a plane for eight hours with an old woman reeking of perfume who loves her granddog a little too much, some mad-fact spouter--spouting irreverent facts at random--and a family of bubble wrap poppers and see how fresh you smell.” Despite his exasperation, his voice was full of humor as he moved closer to Robert, angling him and pinning him against the door. He lowered his voice, purring against Robert’s ear, “I was going to suggest a nap, but now,” he ran his hand down Robert’s body and felt him shiver at the contact, “maybe a shower first, then nap.” He pulled back and looked into Robert’s eyes, glancing down to watch his Adam’s apple as he thickly swallowed.
“Care to help me wash my back?” Robert asked.
Alan softly pushed at Robert's chest and, laughing, asked him to lead the way.
Robert blushed and headed off down the hall and Alan picked up his bag and followed. “You can set your bag down in the bedroom.”
Alan set the bag down against the far wall and opened it. He rummaged around until he found his small bag of toiletries. When he straightened, bag in hand, and turned, he found Robert leaning against the doorframe, watching him.
“Ready?”
Alan crossed the room, stepping up and giving him a lingering kiss. “More than you know.” He brushed up against Robert as he walked around him and into the bathroom.
Robert took a deep breath, then went towards the bathroom, eager to make good on his promise.
8.03 Sandalwood