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lavitanuova.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2005-03-17 02:22 pm
lavitanuova.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2005-03-17 02:22 pm
(no subject)
Title: Rainy Days
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lavitanuova
Pairing: Sean/Elijah
Rating: PG
Notes: Ficlet, written a couple of weeks ago forbeizy.
Sean is Elijah's favorite rainy day plan.
The clouds are gathered close and low and dark, but they aren't allowed to go home. Peter won't chance missing a few hours filming, just because some silly weather report says that the rain won't stop till the next daybreak, so they're barricaded in their trailers, watching and hoping that lightening won't strike and the whole damned place won't be flooded come time to start shooting again.
Elijah gripes and complains right along with Sean, but he doesn't really mind. Sean's got a coffeemaker and a drawer full of packets of hot chocolate, a box of Alexandra's favorite brand of snack cakes that serve as a nice little afternoon snack, and he's got a nice big sofa that's the most comfortable thing Elijah's ever curled up on, with a hand sewn quilt he'd brought from America that Elijah is now completely tucked into, save the very tips of his fingers and his head. Despite the frigid wind and rain outside, Elijah is warm through and through - from his sugary lips (compliments of the creme filled chocolate pie) to his bitten nails, right down to where his toes are wiggling against Sean's thigh.
"Stop it," Sean says absently, holding the book he's reading open with one hand while the other swats at the offending toes, wrapping his fist over Elijah's slender (dainty, Dom has said, and earned himself a pop to the head) foot, first squeezing and holding to stop him from moving, and then just rubbing absently as he hums over something he's read.
Elijah stops wiggling his toes at that, not because Sean's asked, but because he likes the peculiar feeling of such thick, sturdy fingers touching him. It feels solid, and makes his skin prickle and tingle, makes him feel very thoroughly not alone. Sean hums again, a deep little rumble in his chest, and his lips twitch a little. He's still got his Sam hair, though he's wearing Sean clothes. The Feet came off hours ago, abandoned as impractical when they were coated in mud. Elijah sort of likes the way Sean keeps shaking his head to push the curls back. He wonders if Sean had hair like that when he was a baby - and wonders why the idea of Sean as a baby makes him want to giggle.
He doesn't mean to, but he does anyway, and Sean glances up at him, hand stilling on Elijah's foot. "Hmm?" He asks, only vaguely curious.
Elijah shrugs. "Babies."
Sean nods absently and looks back down at his book. "You should come to dinner tonight, I think Chris is cooking."
"Mmkay..." Elijah burrows back down, tightening the quilt around him. He thinks that Sean must be cold too, but he hasn't said anything, and Elijah doesn't feel like sharing the blanket. It smells like Sean - a mixture of cologne and aftershave and something spicysweet that he can't identify. It feels safe to him. He wonders if there is any way he can convince Sean to give him the blanket, when filming ends. "I think its letting up a little."
Elijah braves one hand out to the table and snags his mug of hot chocolate - gone lukewarm now - and takes a large drink, licking his lips after. Sean is looking out the window, studying it hard, assessing the situation. "Maybe," He says, finally. "But just a little."
"Yeah. Too bad." But Elijah smiles again, and shuts his eyes, resting his cheek against the arm of the couch. Maybe he can get in a little nap before they have to leave.
Author:
lavitanuovaPairing: Sean/Elijah
Rating: PG
Notes: Ficlet, written a couple of weeks ago for
beizy.Sean is Elijah's favorite rainy day plan.
The clouds are gathered close and low and dark, but they aren't allowed to go home. Peter won't chance missing a few hours filming, just because some silly weather report says that the rain won't stop till the next daybreak, so they're barricaded in their trailers, watching and hoping that lightening won't strike and the whole damned place won't be flooded come time to start shooting again.
Elijah gripes and complains right along with Sean, but he doesn't really mind. Sean's got a coffeemaker and a drawer full of packets of hot chocolate, a box of Alexandra's favorite brand of snack cakes that serve as a nice little afternoon snack, and he's got a nice big sofa that's the most comfortable thing Elijah's ever curled up on, with a hand sewn quilt he'd brought from America that Elijah is now completely tucked into, save the very tips of his fingers and his head. Despite the frigid wind and rain outside, Elijah is warm through and through - from his sugary lips (compliments of the creme filled chocolate pie) to his bitten nails, right down to where his toes are wiggling against Sean's thigh.
"Stop it," Sean says absently, holding the book he's reading open with one hand while the other swats at the offending toes, wrapping his fist over Elijah's slender (dainty, Dom has said, and earned himself a pop to the head) foot, first squeezing and holding to stop him from moving, and then just rubbing absently as he hums over something he's read.
Elijah stops wiggling his toes at that, not because Sean's asked, but because he likes the peculiar feeling of such thick, sturdy fingers touching him. It feels solid, and makes his skin prickle and tingle, makes him feel very thoroughly not alone. Sean hums again, a deep little rumble in his chest, and his lips twitch a little. He's still got his Sam hair, though he's wearing Sean clothes. The Feet came off hours ago, abandoned as impractical when they were coated in mud. Elijah sort of likes the way Sean keeps shaking his head to push the curls back. He wonders if Sean had hair like that when he was a baby - and wonders why the idea of Sean as a baby makes him want to giggle.
He doesn't mean to, but he does anyway, and Sean glances up at him, hand stilling on Elijah's foot. "Hmm?" He asks, only vaguely curious.
Elijah shrugs. "Babies."
Sean nods absently and looks back down at his book. "You should come to dinner tonight, I think Chris is cooking."
"Mmkay..." Elijah burrows back down, tightening the quilt around him. He thinks that Sean must be cold too, but he hasn't said anything, and Elijah doesn't feel like sharing the blanket. It smells like Sean - a mixture of cologne and aftershave and something spicysweet that he can't identify. It feels safe to him. He wonders if there is any way he can convince Sean to give him the blanket, when filming ends. "I think its letting up a little."
Elijah braves one hand out to the table and snags his mug of hot chocolate - gone lukewarm now - and takes a large drink, licking his lips after. Sean is looking out the window, studying it hard, assessing the situation. "Maybe," He says, finally. "But just a little."
"Yeah. Too bad." But Elijah smiles again, and shuts his eyes, resting his cheek against the arm of the couch. Maybe he can get in a little nap before they have to leave.