Fic: Homesick
Title: Homesick
Author: high_flyer87
Pairing: Adrian Pasdar/Milo Ventimiglia
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff, BFF!fic
Warning: Language
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and this never happened.
Summary: Milo finds he's homesick, and Adrian is the only cure.
A/N: Um. I'm sort of really nervous about posting this. I've never written this pairing before. I'm not familiar with them at all. Not enough to feel comfortable writing them anyway. So, forgive me if my characterizations are way off. This was written up fairly quickly, and it's un-beta'd (although I did get some encouragement from pikasafire -- thanks McGee!), so all mistakes are my own.
Other than that, let me know what you think :)
The Heroes press tour was nearing its end, and as much as Milo loved to travel he was getting restless and mopey. He'd probably never admit to it, but he was getting homesick.
He lay on his back in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room. His hands lay folded across his bare chest, and he slowly ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, trying to count each one...he kept losing count after five.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nose. He rolled over on his right side and gazed at the blue numbers glowing from the clock on the bedside table. 2:45, it said. Fantastic.
He rarely had trouble sleeping, so now he was only feeling more discontent….lonely….homesick. Fuck.
He huffed loudly into the quiet room and threw back the covers on the bed. I can't just keep laying here. I need to move. I need...something...
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. But...now that he was standing he wasn't quite sure what to do. He padded over the window and looked out. The streets were empty, and a steady mist was falling from the sky, blanketing the city in a foggy dew. Milo raised his right hand and placed it on the window, testing the temperature. Cold. What month is it? January? No...February. He exhaled slowly through his nose and watched the glass fog over slightly.
His hand fell back to his side and he stepped away from the window, allowing the curtains to close again, throwing the room into darkness once more.
He turned around and stared at the bed...then at the desk...then the tv...Could watch tv, I guess. He shrugged inwardly. No...I hate tv. He chuckled at the irony.
God, what's wrong with me! He let out a loud, frustrated groan, stumbled over to the bed, and threw himself down onto the mattress.
Great. Now I'm pouting.
He rolled over onto his back and sighed.
I need...something...
I need...
Fuck...what do I need...
He shivered slightly and glanced over at the chair sitting in the corner of the room. His mouth twitched up at one corner in a tiny smile when he saw the hoodie draped over the armrest. Adrian's hoodie. Milo had borrowed it that afternoon because he'd left his in his room, and he’d just…forgotten to give it back.
He stood up and walked over to the chair, grabbing the sweatshirt, and pulling it over his head. He shivered again, adjusting to the warmth now enveloping his body. He relaxed marginally, and lay back down in bed. He snuggled into the sweatshirt, inhaling deeply. It smelled like Adrian; vague hints of that cologne he wears, spicy and clean. Milo breathed deeply again and felt a wave of contentment wash over him.
Wait…that’s what I need.
Milo got out of bed. He was on autopilot; his limbs moving of their own volition. He was only vaguely aware of what he was actually doing. He made sure he had his room key in hand, and headed towards the door, hesitating for only a second before stepping out into the hall.
The bright lights instantly threw his senses into a weird overdrive, making his desultory thoughts from moments before, inside the quiet dark of his room, feel like nothing more than a distant memory. He suddenly felt silly, like he'd overreacted, and his paced faltered slightly. He considered turning right back around and going back to bed, but then cursed his thoughts, and the lights, and their goddamn false sense of security, and he continued on his journey down the hall.
He steadily made his way down, bare feet padding softly on the carpet, as he quietly mouthed the numbers on each door he passed. 503...502...501...500...
He stopped.
The gold 500 shimmered at him against the dark mahogany of the door. He raised his hand, hesitating one last time, and then knocked.
He held his breath, hand held at the ready in the 'knock' position.
He started to knock again, but stopped abruptly when he heard movement on the other side of the door. It cracked open slowly, illuminating a portion of a man's face. Milo smiled.
"Hey, Mi," Adrian yawned and looked at his watch, "It's…three in the morning. Is something wrong?" His voice was rough with sleep. He opened the door a little more, squinting into the brightness of the hallway.
"Um. Yeah...well, sort of. Can I come in?"
Adrian glanced around, his brows furrowed in confusion slightly, but he nodded, opening the door and letting Milo in.
"What's up?" Adrian shut and locked the door behind Milo, then grabbed his t-shirt off the chair and pulled it on.
Milo chewed on the inside of his cheek as he gazed at Adrian and his sleep-tousled hair, squinting at Milo through sleepy eyes. He started to feel bad about waking his friend…but it was Adrian. The same lonely feelings from before were creeping back and he inhaled a shaky breath, then cleared his throat, “I’m homesick.” He grimaced slightly at the word and looked down at the floor.
"You are?" Adrian asked.
Milo nodded.
"I'm sorry" Adrian murmured softly. "Do you need anything?"
Milo looked back up at Adrian. He felt himself blush, and thanked God that the light in the room was low enough Adrian wouldn't be able to see. "Could I stay here with you?...Tonight?"
Adrian's eyebrows rose slightly, "Yeah,” he nodded, “Sure. Whatever you need."
Milo sighed and grinned crookedly, “Thanks Ade.” He looked around the room. Oh.... “Um,” he pointed to the bed and looked at Adrian questioningly, “You sure you don’t mind?”
Adrian smirked, “Come on kid.” He chuckled quietly and grabbed Milo by the back of the neck, steering him towards the bed. “Is this my sweatshirt?” He tugged at Milo’s sleeve.
“Um,” Milo looked down, “Yeah. Forgot to give it back.”
“Mmm” Adrian hummed in response. He pulled the covers back and got in bed, rolling on his side to face Milo.
“I like the way it smells” Milo murmured as he slipped into the bed beside Adrian.
“Do you?” Adrian yawned.
“Mhmm” Milo nodded as he rolled onto his side facing Adrian.
“That’s good” Adrian said, scooting closer to Milo.
“Ade?”
“Yeah, Mi?” His eyes were closed.
“Thanks.”
Adrian opened his eyes and looked at Milo seriously, “No problem. I know how it gets. Sometimes you just…need some company” Adrian shrugged.
“Yeah” Milo murmured, “I feel…lonely.”
Adrian reached out and pulled Milo against his chest. It was familiar, yet surprisingly new. They shared personal space all the time, on the plane, or in the car on their way to an interview, but nothing quite like this. Milo sort of liked it. He snuggled into the warm body pressed against his, and rest his head underneath Adrian’s chin.
Adrian wrapped his arm around Milo, pulling him closer; his large, warm hand smoothing across Milo’s shoulder blades, then up, softly ghosting over his neck to run through his hair. Underneath the covers, his leg tangled together with Milo’s.
Milo breathed deeply, the scent of Adrian ten times stronger now that he had his face buried in the man’s neck. He wrapped his own arm around Adrian’s impossibly warm body, and shivered slightly. He was completely relaxed now, and his eyes slowly slipped closed.
“Ade?” he mumbled against Adrian’s neck.
He felt, rather than heard Adrian’s response. It rumbled against him like a freight train, “…Yeah, Mi?”
“…loveyou.”
Adrian was almost asleep, his voice coming out in a sigh, gruff and quiet, “…loveyoutoo.”
A/N 2: This might be shockingly similar to my Pinto cuddle fic that I recently wrote. I almost didn't want to finish this because of that, but dammit, I needed some AdrianMilo cuddles!
Author: high_flyer87
Pairing: Adrian Pasdar/Milo Ventimiglia
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff, BFF!fic
Warning: Language
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and this never happened.
Summary: Milo finds he's homesick, and Adrian is the only cure.
A/N: Um. I'm sort of really nervous about posting this. I've never written this pairing before. I'm not familiar with them at all. Not enough to feel comfortable writing them anyway. So, forgive me if my characterizations are way off. This was written up fairly quickly, and it's un-beta'd (although I did get some encouragement from pikasafire -- thanks McGee!), so all mistakes are my own.
Other than that, let me know what you think :)
The Heroes press tour was nearing its end, and as much as Milo loved to travel he was getting restless and mopey. He'd probably never admit to it, but he was getting homesick.
He lay on his back in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room. His hands lay folded across his bare chest, and he slowly ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, trying to count each one...he kept losing count after five.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nose. He rolled over on his right side and gazed at the blue numbers glowing from the clock on the bedside table. 2:45, it said. Fantastic.
He rarely had trouble sleeping, so now he was only feeling more discontent….lonely….homesick. Fuck.
He huffed loudly into the quiet room and threw back the covers on the bed. I can't just keep laying here. I need to move. I need...something...
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. But...now that he was standing he wasn't quite sure what to do. He padded over the window and looked out. The streets were empty, and a steady mist was falling from the sky, blanketing the city in a foggy dew. Milo raised his right hand and placed it on the window, testing the temperature. Cold. What month is it? January? No...February. He exhaled slowly through his nose and watched the glass fog over slightly.
His hand fell back to his side and he stepped away from the window, allowing the curtains to close again, throwing the room into darkness once more.
He turned around and stared at the bed...then at the desk...then the tv...Could watch tv, I guess. He shrugged inwardly. No...I hate tv. He chuckled at the irony.
God, what's wrong with me! He let out a loud, frustrated groan, stumbled over to the bed, and threw himself down onto the mattress.
Great. Now I'm pouting.
He rolled over onto his back and sighed.
I need...something...
I need...
Fuck...what do I need...
He shivered slightly and glanced over at the chair sitting in the corner of the room. His mouth twitched up at one corner in a tiny smile when he saw the hoodie draped over the armrest. Adrian's hoodie. Milo had borrowed it that afternoon because he'd left his in his room, and he’d just…forgotten to give it back.
He stood up and walked over to the chair, grabbing the sweatshirt, and pulling it over his head. He shivered again, adjusting to the warmth now enveloping his body. He relaxed marginally, and lay back down in bed. He snuggled into the sweatshirt, inhaling deeply. It smelled like Adrian; vague hints of that cologne he wears, spicy and clean. Milo breathed deeply again and felt a wave of contentment wash over him.
Wait…that’s what I need.
Milo got out of bed. He was on autopilot; his limbs moving of their own volition. He was only vaguely aware of what he was actually doing. He made sure he had his room key in hand, and headed towards the door, hesitating for only a second before stepping out into the hall.
The bright lights instantly threw his senses into a weird overdrive, making his desultory thoughts from moments before, inside the quiet dark of his room, feel like nothing more than a distant memory. He suddenly felt silly, like he'd overreacted, and his paced faltered slightly. He considered turning right back around and going back to bed, but then cursed his thoughts, and the lights, and their goddamn false sense of security, and he continued on his journey down the hall.
He steadily made his way down, bare feet padding softly on the carpet, as he quietly mouthed the numbers on each door he passed. 503...502...501...500...
He stopped.
The gold 500 shimmered at him against the dark mahogany of the door. He raised his hand, hesitating one last time, and then knocked.
He held his breath, hand held at the ready in the 'knock' position.
He started to knock again, but stopped abruptly when he heard movement on the other side of the door. It cracked open slowly, illuminating a portion of a man's face. Milo smiled.
"Hey, Mi," Adrian yawned and looked at his watch, "It's…three in the morning. Is something wrong?" His voice was rough with sleep. He opened the door a little more, squinting into the brightness of the hallway.
"Um. Yeah...well, sort of. Can I come in?"
Adrian glanced around, his brows furrowed in confusion slightly, but he nodded, opening the door and letting Milo in.
"What's up?" Adrian shut and locked the door behind Milo, then grabbed his t-shirt off the chair and pulled it on.
Milo chewed on the inside of his cheek as he gazed at Adrian and his sleep-tousled hair, squinting at Milo through sleepy eyes. He started to feel bad about waking his friend…but it was Adrian. The same lonely feelings from before were creeping back and he inhaled a shaky breath, then cleared his throat, “I’m homesick.” He grimaced slightly at the word and looked down at the floor.
"You are?" Adrian asked.
Milo nodded.
"I'm sorry" Adrian murmured softly. "Do you need anything?"
Milo looked back up at Adrian. He felt himself blush, and thanked God that the light in the room was low enough Adrian wouldn't be able to see. "Could I stay here with you?...Tonight?"
Adrian's eyebrows rose slightly, "Yeah,” he nodded, “Sure. Whatever you need."
Milo sighed and grinned crookedly, “Thanks Ade.” He looked around the room. Oh.... “Um,” he pointed to the bed and looked at Adrian questioningly, “You sure you don’t mind?”
Adrian smirked, “Come on kid.” He chuckled quietly and grabbed Milo by the back of the neck, steering him towards the bed. “Is this my sweatshirt?” He tugged at Milo’s sleeve.
“Um,” Milo looked down, “Yeah. Forgot to give it back.”
“Mmm” Adrian hummed in response. He pulled the covers back and got in bed, rolling on his side to face Milo.
“I like the way it smells” Milo murmured as he slipped into the bed beside Adrian.
“Do you?” Adrian yawned.
“Mhmm” Milo nodded as he rolled onto his side facing Adrian.
“That’s good” Adrian said, scooting closer to Milo.
“Ade?”
“Yeah, Mi?” His eyes were closed.
“Thanks.”
Adrian opened his eyes and looked at Milo seriously, “No problem. I know how it gets. Sometimes you just…need some company” Adrian shrugged.
“Yeah” Milo murmured, “I feel…lonely.”
Adrian reached out and pulled Milo against his chest. It was familiar, yet surprisingly new. They shared personal space all the time, on the plane, or in the car on their way to an interview, but nothing quite like this. Milo sort of liked it. He snuggled into the warm body pressed against his, and rest his head underneath Adrian’s chin.
Adrian wrapped his arm around Milo, pulling him closer; his large, warm hand smoothing across Milo’s shoulder blades, then up, softly ghosting over his neck to run through his hair. Underneath the covers, his leg tangled together with Milo’s.
Milo breathed deeply, the scent of Adrian ten times stronger now that he had his face buried in the man’s neck. He wrapped his own arm around Adrian’s impossibly warm body, and shivered slightly. He was completely relaxed now, and his eyes slowly slipped closed.
“Ade?” he mumbled against Adrian’s neck.
He felt, rather than heard Adrian’s response. It rumbled against him like a freight train, “…Yeah, Mi?”
“…loveyou.”
Adrian was almost asleep, his voice coming out in a sigh, gruff and quiet, “…loveyoutoo.”
A/N 2: This might be shockingly similar to my Pinto cuddle fic that I recently wrote. I almost didn't want to finish this because of that, but dammit, I needed some AdrianMilo cuddles!