Flying Elbows, Hidden Danger 8.5
Title: Flying Elbows, Hidden Danger
Fandom: RPS
Story: Highway: Pacific Coast Highway 8.5
Characters: Alan Davies and Robert Sean Leonard
Authors: michelleann68 + evila_elf = evila_ann
Prompt: 10_per_genre 09 Backfired! (Comedy/Humor)
Word Count: 1858
Rating: PG
Summary: Robert finds a new way to wake Alan.
Authors’ Notes:
Where it all began:
Big table of prompts is here:
Order of the story is here:
Previous story:
A Kiss is Just A Kiss
The sun bled through the thin curtains. He was back in California, there was no denying that. Turning over, Robert was happy to see the still form, fast asleep next to him. Robert turned over on his side and stared at Alan, mapping out the few freckles that were scattered across his creamy soft white skin. He was tempted to connect the dots and draw the constellations they created, but he didn’t want to wake him up just yet.
It was comforting to wake up with Alan here, more then Robert expected. He had to admit he was really falling, hell he has fallen for him, and could only think of wanting to find more ways to spend more time together. He looked up at the window and the relationship felt at times as fragile as the curtain. He knew that he couldn’t keep this private forever. There was a lot of stress that came from lying about Alan and their relationship, but the repercussions seemed to outweigh the pain from keeping this to themselves and a few close friends.
Robert stretched and ran his hand gently down Alan’s arm, he heard a sigh and Alan moved slightly, settling into the bed a little more. Robert gave up and decided to head out and get something they could eat and the New York Times, so they could enjoy a low key morning, before they needed to head out to the grocery store to stock up on supplies.
Climbing out of the bed, Robert took a last look at Alan. He resembled a cherub when he was sleeping, he always looked so relaxed and at peace. He grabbed a pair of jeans and one of Alan’s t-shirts, slipped on his shoes and, grabbing a light jacket, he headed out to the coffee shop down the street.
Robert walked quietly back in the apartment, shivering. For a sunny day, the chill from the night before had not yet burned off. Setting the muffins down in the kitchen with the newspaper, Robert took off his clothes as he crept back into the bedroom.
Alan had turned around, one leg hanging off the bed, and was almost on his stomach, curls scattered across the pillowcase and his face nearly buried. It looked inviting so Robert made his move. Taking off his glasses, he pulled back the comforter, preparing to slide back into bed, looking forward to wrapping his body around Alan and spending part of the morning slowly waking up together.
The second his cold hands made contact, Robert knew he had made a mistake. Alan’s elbow made contact with his eye before he had a chance to duck out of the way. The pain was searing and he fell out of bed with a thump and let out a short yell, followed by a string of obscenities.
Alan flew out bed and over to Robert, not sure what had happened and still trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. He had been having a wonderful dream involving Robert, a bowl of strawberries, and an air balloon. When he heard Robert yell, the balloon had burst and he felt a burning cold.
The pain had moved to throbbing and Robert felt Alan’s hand gently rubbing his back. He was saying something, but Robert could hear nothing through the pain. He wanted to run from it. Standing, he tried to leave the room, but Alan kept him in place. Finally, Robert’s head started to clear.
“…. It’s alright……shhhhh…let me see, you are fine, just let me see, Robert, breathe you are fine.”
Robert let his hand down from his eye, and tried to focus on the bright shapes in the room. He felt Alan gently touch his cheekbone, and around to his temple.
“That is going to be a nasty black eye. What happened? I hope I didn’t do this.”
Robert just sat there, still in shock. It hurt so much he could not really see at all. He made a move to what he thought was the bed, and felt Alan’s hands on him, guiding him towards someplace firm to sit.
“Robert, stay here, let me get you an ice pack, and...” he looked around, “we need some heat, that will help it heal faster.”
Robert just looked over in the direction of the voice and reached out his hand, resting it on Alan’s lap. “Don’t leave me.”
Alan handed Robert his glasses. “I promise I will be right back. It might help if you can see properly. And I still need to know what happened.” Alan walked into the kitchen and saw the muffins and newspaper. His stomach grumbled as the aroma tickled his nose. A quick scan of the freezer showed a lack of ice packs, so he looked for a plastic bag, “Where are your plastic bags?”
“No need to yell, I’m right here.”
Alan hit his head on the cabinet that he had opened, startled by Robert’s close response. “You were supposed to stay in bed.”
“I wanted to see if I could help,” Robert had managed to toss on a robe, and had one hand over his bruised eye.
Alan rubbed the back of his head. At this rate, they both were going to need ice packs.
“Second drawer down by the fridge.”
Alan walked over and bent, opening the drawer and pulling out a bag, “Do you have a heating pad?”
“No…why?”
Alan shook his head. “I need a sock and where is your rice?”
“Alan, what are you up to?” He started to wonder how hard he had been hit or if Alan really wasn’t making much sense.
He popped some ice into a bag and then walked past Robert in search of a sock. “We need to treat the bruise and try to stop the spread. Remember, first day of shooting is tomorrow. I am sure your make-up girl is good, but...”
Robert had trailed after him and handed him a clean sock. “I don’t get the sock and rice.”
Alan just stopped and gave Robert a quick kiss before heading back to the kitchen. “Heated rice works as a temporary heating pad, but not as good as buckwheat.”
“You seem to know a lot about bruises. Something you need to tell me?”
“Football injuries. Had to learn how to hide the evidence from parents and directors.”
“You are a man of many talents.”
“I will show you more later if you behave for me.”
“Yes sir,” Robert said as he took the bag of ice from Alan and walked into the living room. He sat on the couch, laid his glasses on the table and then took the cold bag of ice and touched it to his skin, eliciting a shiver. “It’s cold.”
“Good. It will slow the blood down. I still need to hear the story.” The microwave dinged and Alan took out the small bag of warm rice, mixing it up and making sure there were no hot spots. He walked into the living room and smirked at the sight of Robert leaning his head back, balancing the ice on his face.
Alan sat next to him. “Lay down, let me help.”
Robert lay on his back, looking up, eyes squinted. He felt Alan take the bag of ice out of his hand and lay it back against his skin. “Alright, now will you tell me how this happened?”
“Well, I thought it would be nice to warm up next to you, but I forgot how cold my hands were. When they touched you, I got caught by your elbow.”
“Love, I am sorry. All I remember is waking from a really good dream.” He ran his hands through Robert’s hair and kissed his forehead.
Alan took off the ice and set it on the back on the couch and then set the heated rice over the bruise.
“That feels good, what does it do?”
“It encourages the pooled blood to be reabsorbed, so the bruise vanishes faster.”
“You are a good nurse.” Robert squirmed at the glancing hand that tickled his side.
“I am getting blamed for this, so covering my own arse too.”
“But it is a nice arse.” Robert drew out the word, and mirrored Alan’s smile. “How will you get blamed?”
“Robert, how will it look? You return from vacation and you have a black eye. Who are they going to think gave it to you? A rabid fan?”
“I will think of some sort of accident or mishap.”
“And you will lie to Hugh? I would like to see that.”
“How bad is it?”
Alan lifted up the rice-filled sock. “This will take a while.” He exchanged the now-cool sock with the ice.
Robert tried to get away from the ice, but Alan held him in place.
“How much does it hurt?”
“My head is pounding. Whispering only, please.”
“Where are your tablets? I’ll fetch you a couple when I heat up the rice.”
“What are tablets?”
“Headache tablets, pills?”
“Oh, okay, yeah in the bathroom. The medicine cabinet. Ibuprofen please.”
“Anything you want, Love. Do you want to stay here? Or move back to bed?”
“I’ll rest here, as long as you are my pillow.” Robert tried to look pathetic and Alan had to admit, with the ever-darkening black eye, he was doing a bang up job. He pressed Robert up and left to get the tablets and heat up the rice. He returned a few minutes later with muffins, water, tablets and two little balls of heated rice. He helped Robert sit up and take the tablets, before settling back on the couch. He cupped Robert’s face and turned it towards him.
“How bad is it?”
“Bad. It will take awhile to heal. How much are you in this week?”
Robert pointed to the script. “Only two scenes, but tomorrow is an all cast day, just to get Season four off to a good start, so I doubt we’ll be filming too much.”
“Need to run lines?”
“Nope, not much to remember. I will get them down tonight.” He leaned back, taking the warm sock from Alan’s hand and placed it over his eye. “I thought I got a pillow out of this?”
Alan rolled his eyes. “Movie or music?”
“Movie. Shakespeare Re-told?”
“Preference?”
“No, anything. Just something to listen to.”
“Someday we will actually watch a movie together. I guess this is close.” Alan sat down and pressed play.
Robert leaned back, head in Alan’s lap, and Alan rested the warmth against his eye. He let his hand slide down to Robert’s shoulder and soon Robert’s hand came up to thread their fingers together. Alan worked with one hand to pick off bits of muffin and alternated between feeding Robert and himself.
It wasn’t long after the movie started that Robert fell asleep. Alan gently removed the sock of rice and set is aside. He gently touched the skin around Robert’s eye, wincing as if it were his own. As he brushed Robert’s hair back from his forehead, Alan wondered how Robert was going to try to explain this little mishap.
8.06 Attempted Deflection
Fandom: RPS
Story: Highway: Pacific Coast Highway 8.5
Characters: Alan Davies and Robert Sean Leonard
Authors: michelleann68 + evila_elf = evila_ann
Prompt: 10_per_genre 09 Backfired! (Comedy/Humor)
Word Count: 1858
Rating: PG
Summary: Robert finds a new way to wake Alan.
Authors’ Notes:
Where it all began:
Big table of prompts is here:
Order of the story is here:
Previous story:
A Kiss is Just A Kiss
The sun bled through the thin curtains. He was back in California, there was no denying that. Turning over, Robert was happy to see the still form, fast asleep next to him. Robert turned over on his side and stared at Alan, mapping out the few freckles that were scattered across his creamy soft white skin. He was tempted to connect the dots and draw the constellations they created, but he didn’t want to wake him up just yet.
It was comforting to wake up with Alan here, more then Robert expected. He had to admit he was really falling, hell he has fallen for him, and could only think of wanting to find more ways to spend more time together. He looked up at the window and the relationship felt at times as fragile as the curtain. He knew that he couldn’t keep this private forever. There was a lot of stress that came from lying about Alan and their relationship, but the repercussions seemed to outweigh the pain from keeping this to themselves and a few close friends.
Robert stretched and ran his hand gently down Alan’s arm, he heard a sigh and Alan moved slightly, settling into the bed a little more. Robert gave up and decided to head out and get something they could eat and the New York Times, so they could enjoy a low key morning, before they needed to head out to the grocery store to stock up on supplies.
Climbing out of the bed, Robert took a last look at Alan. He resembled a cherub when he was sleeping, he always looked so relaxed and at peace. He grabbed a pair of jeans and one of Alan’s t-shirts, slipped on his shoes and, grabbing a light jacket, he headed out to the coffee shop down the street.
Robert walked quietly back in the apartment, shivering. For a sunny day, the chill from the night before had not yet burned off. Setting the muffins down in the kitchen with the newspaper, Robert took off his clothes as he crept back into the bedroom.
Alan had turned around, one leg hanging off the bed, and was almost on his stomach, curls scattered across the pillowcase and his face nearly buried. It looked inviting so Robert made his move. Taking off his glasses, he pulled back the comforter, preparing to slide back into bed, looking forward to wrapping his body around Alan and spending part of the morning slowly waking up together.
The second his cold hands made contact, Robert knew he had made a mistake. Alan’s elbow made contact with his eye before he had a chance to duck out of the way. The pain was searing and he fell out of bed with a thump and let out a short yell, followed by a string of obscenities.
Alan flew out bed and over to Robert, not sure what had happened and still trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. He had been having a wonderful dream involving Robert, a bowl of strawberries, and an air balloon. When he heard Robert yell, the balloon had burst and he felt a burning cold.
The pain had moved to throbbing and Robert felt Alan’s hand gently rubbing his back. He was saying something, but Robert could hear nothing through the pain. He wanted to run from it. Standing, he tried to leave the room, but Alan kept him in place. Finally, Robert’s head started to clear.
“…. It’s alright……shhhhh…let me see, you are fine, just let me see, Robert, breathe you are fine.”
Robert let his hand down from his eye, and tried to focus on the bright shapes in the room. He felt Alan gently touch his cheekbone, and around to his temple.
“That is going to be a nasty black eye. What happened? I hope I didn’t do this.”
Robert just sat there, still in shock. It hurt so much he could not really see at all. He made a move to what he thought was the bed, and felt Alan’s hands on him, guiding him towards someplace firm to sit.
“Robert, stay here, let me get you an ice pack, and...” he looked around, “we need some heat, that will help it heal faster.”
Robert just looked over in the direction of the voice and reached out his hand, resting it on Alan’s lap. “Don’t leave me.”
Alan handed Robert his glasses. “I promise I will be right back. It might help if you can see properly. And I still need to know what happened.” Alan walked into the kitchen and saw the muffins and newspaper. His stomach grumbled as the aroma tickled his nose. A quick scan of the freezer showed a lack of ice packs, so he looked for a plastic bag, “Where are your plastic bags?”
“No need to yell, I’m right here.”
Alan hit his head on the cabinet that he had opened, startled by Robert’s close response. “You were supposed to stay in bed.”
“I wanted to see if I could help,” Robert had managed to toss on a robe, and had one hand over his bruised eye.
Alan rubbed the back of his head. At this rate, they both were going to need ice packs.
“Second drawer down by the fridge.”
Alan walked over and bent, opening the drawer and pulling out a bag, “Do you have a heating pad?”
“No…why?”
Alan shook his head. “I need a sock and where is your rice?”
“Alan, what are you up to?” He started to wonder how hard he had been hit or if Alan really wasn’t making much sense.
He popped some ice into a bag and then walked past Robert in search of a sock. “We need to treat the bruise and try to stop the spread. Remember, first day of shooting is tomorrow. I am sure your make-up girl is good, but...”
Robert had trailed after him and handed him a clean sock. “I don’t get the sock and rice.”
Alan just stopped and gave Robert a quick kiss before heading back to the kitchen. “Heated rice works as a temporary heating pad, but not as good as buckwheat.”
“You seem to know a lot about bruises. Something you need to tell me?”
“Football injuries. Had to learn how to hide the evidence from parents and directors.”
“You are a man of many talents.”
“I will show you more later if you behave for me.”
“Yes sir,” Robert said as he took the bag of ice from Alan and walked into the living room. He sat on the couch, laid his glasses on the table and then took the cold bag of ice and touched it to his skin, eliciting a shiver. “It’s cold.”
“Good. It will slow the blood down. I still need to hear the story.” The microwave dinged and Alan took out the small bag of warm rice, mixing it up and making sure there were no hot spots. He walked into the living room and smirked at the sight of Robert leaning his head back, balancing the ice on his face.
Alan sat next to him. “Lay down, let me help.”
Robert lay on his back, looking up, eyes squinted. He felt Alan take the bag of ice out of his hand and lay it back against his skin. “Alright, now will you tell me how this happened?”
“Well, I thought it would be nice to warm up next to you, but I forgot how cold my hands were. When they touched you, I got caught by your elbow.”
“Love, I am sorry. All I remember is waking from a really good dream.” He ran his hands through Robert’s hair and kissed his forehead.
Alan took off the ice and set it on the back on the couch and then set the heated rice over the bruise.
“That feels good, what does it do?”
“It encourages the pooled blood to be reabsorbed, so the bruise vanishes faster.”
“You are a good nurse.” Robert squirmed at the glancing hand that tickled his side.
“I am getting blamed for this, so covering my own arse too.”
“But it is a nice arse.” Robert drew out the word, and mirrored Alan’s smile. “How will you get blamed?”
“Robert, how will it look? You return from vacation and you have a black eye. Who are they going to think gave it to you? A rabid fan?”
“I will think of some sort of accident or mishap.”
“And you will lie to Hugh? I would like to see that.”
“How bad is it?”
Alan lifted up the rice-filled sock. “This will take a while.” He exchanged the now-cool sock with the ice.
Robert tried to get away from the ice, but Alan held him in place.
“How much does it hurt?”
“My head is pounding. Whispering only, please.”
“Where are your tablets? I’ll fetch you a couple when I heat up the rice.”
“What are tablets?”
“Headache tablets, pills?”
“Oh, okay, yeah in the bathroom. The medicine cabinet. Ibuprofen please.”
“Anything you want, Love. Do you want to stay here? Or move back to bed?”
“I’ll rest here, as long as you are my pillow.” Robert tried to look pathetic and Alan had to admit, with the ever-darkening black eye, he was doing a bang up job. He pressed Robert up and left to get the tablets and heat up the rice. He returned a few minutes later with muffins, water, tablets and two little balls of heated rice. He helped Robert sit up and take the tablets, before settling back on the couch. He cupped Robert’s face and turned it towards him.
“How bad is it?”
“Bad. It will take awhile to heal. How much are you in this week?”
Robert pointed to the script. “Only two scenes, but tomorrow is an all cast day, just to get Season four off to a good start, so I doubt we’ll be filming too much.”
“Need to run lines?”
“Nope, not much to remember. I will get them down tonight.” He leaned back, taking the warm sock from Alan’s hand and placed it over his eye. “I thought I got a pillow out of this?”
Alan rolled his eyes. “Movie or music?”
“Movie. Shakespeare Re-told?”
“Preference?”
“No, anything. Just something to listen to.”
“Someday we will actually watch a movie together. I guess this is close.” Alan sat down and pressed play.
Robert leaned back, head in Alan’s lap, and Alan rested the warmth against his eye. He let his hand slide down to Robert’s shoulder and soon Robert’s hand came up to thread their fingers together. Alan worked with one hand to pick off bits of muffin and alternated between feeding Robert and himself.
It wasn’t long after the movie started that Robert fell asleep. Alan gently removed the sock of rice and set is aside. He gently touched the skin around Robert’s eye, wincing as if it were his own. As he brushed Robert’s hair back from his forehead, Alan wondered how Robert was going to try to explain this little mishap.
8.06 Attempted Deflection