Ficlet: First Kiss (...of the day)
title: First Kiss (...of the day)
author:
neevebrody
rating: G
words: ~210
legal: so not mine
summary: Something furry tickles his nose and, looking down with one cracked-open, sleep-laden eye, it's-oh right, M7X-249.
I woke up to a lovely sound this morning and this followed shortly thereafter.
First Kiss (…of the day)
Rodney takes a long, deep breath into consciousness. What's that sound? Music? A soft trilling beyond the hut door, it's lyrical and shiny. Something furry tickles his nose and, looking down with one cracked-open, sleep-laden eye, it's-oh right, M7X-249.
Something warmer than the animal skin moves underneath his arm. His eye searches. Mmmm, oh yes, Sheppard.
Dry, fire-tinged air coats his tongue, along with the tang of last night's ale. Lifting his weight on one elbow, Rodney brushes a hand over the serene, stubbly face, leans forward to the warm, still-slightly-swollen lips that look and taste like sin, that fit his so perfectly, pulling John, coaxing him to open those eyes that entice him in the most wonderful ways, and he figures it's not like John isn't tasting the same air, the same ale.
Naked warmth stirs beneath Rodney as the mouth reanimates, there's a soft moan and lips cradle his gently, but with a slow-building fervor as a hand steals over his hip to press at the small of his back, urging him closer.
His ears full of birdsong, his mouth and arms full of John and the sultry aroma of something that might equal coffee fills the air. All is truly right with the world.
author:
neevebrody
rating: G
words: ~210
legal: so not mine
summary: Something furry tickles his nose and, looking down with one cracked-open, sleep-laden eye, it's-oh right, M7X-249.
I woke up to a lovely sound this morning and this followed shortly thereafter.
First Kiss (…of the day)
Rodney takes a long, deep breath into consciousness. What's that sound? Music? A soft trilling beyond the hut door, it's lyrical and shiny. Something furry tickles his nose and, looking down with one cracked-open, sleep-laden eye, it's-oh right, M7X-249.
Something warmer than the animal skin moves underneath his arm. His eye searches. Mmmm, oh yes, Sheppard.
Dry, fire-tinged air coats his tongue, along with the tang of last night's ale. Lifting his weight on one elbow, Rodney brushes a hand over the serene, stubbly face, leans forward to the warm, still-slightly-swollen lips that look and taste like sin, that fit his so perfectly, pulling John, coaxing him to open those eyes that entice him in the most wonderful ways, and he figures it's not like John isn't tasting the same air, the same ale.
Naked warmth stirs beneath Rodney as the mouth reanimates, there's a soft moan and lips cradle his gently, but with a slow-building fervor as a hand steals over his hip to press at the small of his back, urging him closer.
His ears full of birdsong, his mouth and arms full of John and the sultry aroma of something that might equal coffee fills the air. All is truly right with the world.