igrab
in
the_grrrrid
Time Means Nothing | Flynn/Alan
title. Time Means Nothing
author. igrab
pairing. Flynn/Alan
wordcount. 470
summary. This door is always open; no one has the guts to shut us out.
They were on the porch swing; it was early June, light floral scents making way for a damper, heavier heat. The sun was low - just past the trees, and when had that happened? Alan could have sworn it was afternoon just minutes earlier.
Flynn was asleep, sprawled across the whole thing like a cat. Some things never changed, though others did - he was bigger now, older. His hair was gray and he had a beard, which Alan still found far too amusing for his own good. He was nowhere near as fit as his younger days.
Alan loved him. From the crown of his head to the tips of his toes, Alan loved him. He loved the blue of his eyes, loved the way his whole face would light up when he smiled. He loved seeing him still and at peace with himself, and he loved seeing him fired up, passionate, 'in the zone' as he would say. He was always either one or the other. There was no middle ground with Kevin Flynn, no gray areas. Alan loved that.
He loved having him all to himself. He didn't feel guilty about it, as he might have, all those years ago. Now he just felt whole. Flynn had had his twenty years, thank you, he was Alan's now. No one could deny him that.
He reached out and ran his hands through Flynn's hair and the man woke, slowly, his eyes blinking and refocusing and Alan had to smile at the pleasantly confused look on Flynn's face. Like he was thinking, If I'm still dreaming, keep me there, I don't want to leave.
"Good morning," Alan said dryly, his grin threatening to split his face.
"I was meditating," came Flynn's automatic reply. Alan chuckled.
"Uh huh, sure."
Later on, they'd talk about work and Sam and the Grid, and Alan would ask why, if time is faster in the Grid, didn't Flynn get even older? And he'd say something along the lines of 'the years passed, but I didn't age', and what he'd really mean to say was, 'I couldn't die without you'.
There still wasn't nearly enough time.
That night, they climbed into bed and fought over who gets what bit of blanket and squished the pillows around and squished each other around, until Flynn was curled like a nautilus shell and Alan had his face pressed into the man's collarbone, just... breathing him in.
One day, Alan thought, we'll slip into the Grid and make our own little world and we'll have all the time we need.
"Sounds like a plan," Flynn whispered, and Alan realized he'd been speaking out loud. "It's you and me, now."
And the world turned, and time meant nothing.
author. igrab
pairing. Flynn/Alan
wordcount. 470
summary. This door is always open; no one has the guts to shut us out.
They were on the porch swing; it was early June, light floral scents making way for a damper, heavier heat. The sun was low - just past the trees, and when had that happened? Alan could have sworn it was afternoon just minutes earlier.
Flynn was asleep, sprawled across the whole thing like a cat. Some things never changed, though others did - he was bigger now, older. His hair was gray and he had a beard, which Alan still found far too amusing for his own good. He was nowhere near as fit as his younger days.
Alan loved him. From the crown of his head to the tips of his toes, Alan loved him. He loved the blue of his eyes, loved the way his whole face would light up when he smiled. He loved seeing him still and at peace with himself, and he loved seeing him fired up, passionate, 'in the zone' as he would say. He was always either one or the other. There was no middle ground with Kevin Flynn, no gray areas. Alan loved that.
He loved having him all to himself. He didn't feel guilty about it, as he might have, all those years ago. Now he just felt whole. Flynn had had his twenty years, thank you, he was Alan's now. No one could deny him that.
He reached out and ran his hands through Flynn's hair and the man woke, slowly, his eyes blinking and refocusing and Alan had to smile at the pleasantly confused look on Flynn's face. Like he was thinking, If I'm still dreaming, keep me there, I don't want to leave.
"Good morning," Alan said dryly, his grin threatening to split his face.
"I was meditating," came Flynn's automatic reply. Alan chuckled.
"Uh huh, sure."
Later on, they'd talk about work and Sam and the Grid, and Alan would ask why, if time is faster in the Grid, didn't Flynn get even older? And he'd say something along the lines of 'the years passed, but I didn't age', and what he'd really mean to say was, 'I couldn't die without you'.
There still wasn't nearly enough time.
That night, they climbed into bed and fought over who gets what bit of blanket and squished the pillows around and squished each other around, until Flynn was curled like a nautilus shell and Alan had his face pressed into the man's collarbone, just... breathing him in.
One day, Alan thought, we'll slip into the Grid and make our own little world and we'll have all the time we need.
"Sounds like a plan," Flynn whispered, and Alan realized he'd been speaking out loud. "It's you and me, now."
And the world turned, and time meant nothing.