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31_days2012-02-02 11:15 am
metallikirk.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2012-02-02 11:15 am
February 2nd (Star Trek RPF) Midnight Snack
Title: Midnight Snack
Rating: PG-13 for suggestive themes
Wordcount: 1128 words
Series: Star Trek (2009) RPF
Day & Theme: February 2: My love a beacon in the night
Character / Pairing: Chris Pine/Karl Urban (yes, I went there.)
Warnings: RPF, so navigate away now if that doesn't tickle your pickle.
Chris yawned himself awake, eyes blinking blearily into the darkness of the bedroom. The air, when he shifted one arm from beneath the blanketing covers that surrounded him like a nest, was chill against his skin, creating gooseflesh wherever it touched. Chris shivered and yawned again, drawing his arm beneath the covers once more, before he turned over to the side. No amount of half-awake bleariness could take away the fact that his was the only body in bed; where once a few hours before had been a Karl shaped body beside him, there was nothing, empty sheets occupied by equally empty space.
“Karl?” Chris mumbled, a sleepy frown working over half-closed eyes as his hand splayed against the sheets beside him.
The fabric was still vaguely warm, as though it hadn’t been that long since the other man had left the bed. He didn’t get an answer; his voice had been pitched too low to carry anywhere. He yawned and slowly sat up, head swimming a little the same way it always did when sitting rapidly after rousing from a deep sleep. He waited until the world had stopped its dipping carousel ride before he swung his legs out from beneath the sheets, bare feet splayed against the carpeted floor.
After a few more seconds of waiting, he stood, lean frame shivering against the chill February night air. He hugged himself with both arms as he made his way downstairs, into the kitchen where welcoming lemon-yellow light flooded over everything. Karl was seated at the table, looking just as tired as Chris felt, a whole pie balanced upon the table in front of him. Despite the fact that he’d placed two empty plated upon the table,s Karl had yet to start eating. Beside the pie was two mugs - one filled with warm milk filling the air with homely scents, while the other remained innocuously empty. Chris could see a saucepan on the stove, no doubt containing the rest of the warmed milk.
“Hey, babe, why are you up?” Karl asked, New Zealand accent seeming all the softer in the other wise quiet confines of the kitchen.
That accent always did do funny things to Chris, rounded out vowels and harsh-at-times enunciations that seemed to fill the space between them with so many promises. There were lot of things about Karl that Chris considered sexy; his accent was only one of them. The fridge kicked in, just as Karl pushed the remainder of the pie towards Chris, empty mug following suit as Karl gestured towards the warm milk on the stove with a wide, loud yawn.
“I could ask the same thing of you,” Chris countered, without really answering the other man’s question.
“I couldn’t sleep and I was hungry,” Karl replied. “I thought that pie and hot milk might do the trick in putting me back to sleep again.”
“And so you decided to serve up two of everything. It’s like you were expecting me,” Chris replied, with a soft grin at the other man.
Karl watched as Chris settled himself down upon the only other vacant chair, hands reaching for the pie and the knife to break through the crust. Chris applied the blade in cutting generous slices, plopping the cherry filled pastry before his lover with a tired smile. Karl, meanwhile was pouring out hot milk into Chris’ mug, adding sugar and cinnamon the way that Chris liked it. Their movements were fluid, easy, well coordinated after sharing plenty of midnight snacks over the years.
Karl caught a hold of Chris’ hand before the other man could pull it away, pie long since delivered before Karl. Chris twined his fingers about and through the other man’s, feeling the warmth that had settled into Karl’s palm from the heated milk. Karl brought Chris’ hand to his mouth, brushing teasing kisses against the other man’s knuckles, making Chris smile with the intimacy displayed in the other man’s gaze. He remained silent, however, and did not relinquish his hand from Karl’s, even when Karl reached for his pie, replacing Chris’ knuckles against his mouth with cherry filled pastry instead.
They ate and drank in silence, Karl’s thumb a constant teasing pressure against the backs of Chris’ fingers. He tracked every last movement of Chris’ tongue, wiping away stray smears of cherry filling from around his mouth. Karl reached up once he’d finished eating, wiped away a smudge of cherry from high up on Chris’ cheeks. He sucked the resultant mess from the pad of his thumb without ever taking his eyes from Chris’ face.
Chris watched him in turn, breath held slightly at the promise held deep within Karl’s gaze, before he leant forward suddenly and pressed a kiss to Karl’s waiting mouth. Karl tasted like warm cherries and sweet milk, with the taste of Karl resting beneath it all. The weight of Karl’s hand upon the back of his head was a welcome comfort, fingers stroking inexorably through the soft strands of Chris’ hair, still bleached out in the Jim Kirk style.
Chris could feel the urgency in Karl’s kisses, the swift, playful teases and presses of the other man’s tongue inside his mouth and Chris hummed out a pleasured note. Finally he drew away, licking his lips instinctively while Karl watched, transfixed. Karl had always loved the way that Chris teased with unconscious movements of his tongue, licking his lips in preparation for speaking and sometimes afterwards too. He always did so after kisses, as though savouring the taste of Karl for a little longer.
“You coming back to bed?” Chris asked, a playful smile suddenly instilling itself upon his face, a cheeky invitation evident in his clear-eyed gaze.
“You offering?” Karl asked, without making it clear as to what Chris might be offering.
Chris knew; he always knew what Karl wanted without Karl himself enunciating his needs. It was one of many reasons why they worked well together; each knowing each other so well, they could function even without talking to one another, second guessing each other’s desires with the tilt of a head and a sly wink at the right time.
“I’m offering,” Chris replied, without hesitation.
“Good,” Karl replied. “’Cos that would be awkward, otherwise.”
“Indeed,” Chris replied, as he stood in one fluid movement, lithe limbs sliding beneath his clothing. “Leave the mess ‘til the morning.”
He gestured towards the abandoned plates and mugs, to the half finished pie still resting upon the table-top. Karl stood a little more slowly as he nodded, without the grace that Chris displayed. He followed Chris upstairs, back into their darkened bedroom, where their love would shine far into the night, like a tender beacon to be fanned by two willing bodies in the darkness.
Rating: PG-13 for suggestive themes
Wordcount: 1128 words
Series: Star Trek (2009) RPF
Day & Theme: February 2: My love a beacon in the night
Character / Pairing: Chris Pine/Karl Urban (yes, I went there.)
Warnings: RPF, so navigate away now if that doesn't tickle your pickle.
Chris yawned himself awake, eyes blinking blearily into the darkness of the bedroom. The air, when he shifted one arm from beneath the blanketing covers that surrounded him like a nest, was chill against his skin, creating gooseflesh wherever it touched. Chris shivered and yawned again, drawing his arm beneath the covers once more, before he turned over to the side. No amount of half-awake bleariness could take away the fact that his was the only body in bed; where once a few hours before had been a Karl shaped body beside him, there was nothing, empty sheets occupied by equally empty space.
“Karl?” Chris mumbled, a sleepy frown working over half-closed eyes as his hand splayed against the sheets beside him.
The fabric was still vaguely warm, as though it hadn’t been that long since the other man had left the bed. He didn’t get an answer; his voice had been pitched too low to carry anywhere. He yawned and slowly sat up, head swimming a little the same way it always did when sitting rapidly after rousing from a deep sleep. He waited until the world had stopped its dipping carousel ride before he swung his legs out from beneath the sheets, bare feet splayed against the carpeted floor.
After a few more seconds of waiting, he stood, lean frame shivering against the chill February night air. He hugged himself with both arms as he made his way downstairs, into the kitchen where welcoming lemon-yellow light flooded over everything. Karl was seated at the table, looking just as tired as Chris felt, a whole pie balanced upon the table in front of him. Despite the fact that he’d placed two empty plated upon the table,s Karl had yet to start eating. Beside the pie was two mugs - one filled with warm milk filling the air with homely scents, while the other remained innocuously empty. Chris could see a saucepan on the stove, no doubt containing the rest of the warmed milk.
“Hey, babe, why are you up?” Karl asked, New Zealand accent seeming all the softer in the other wise quiet confines of the kitchen.
That accent always did do funny things to Chris, rounded out vowels and harsh-at-times enunciations that seemed to fill the space between them with so many promises. There were lot of things about Karl that Chris considered sexy; his accent was only one of them. The fridge kicked in, just as Karl pushed the remainder of the pie towards Chris, empty mug following suit as Karl gestured towards the warm milk on the stove with a wide, loud yawn.
“I could ask the same thing of you,” Chris countered, without really answering the other man’s question.
“I couldn’t sleep and I was hungry,” Karl replied. “I thought that pie and hot milk might do the trick in putting me back to sleep again.”
“And so you decided to serve up two of everything. It’s like you were expecting me,” Chris replied, with a soft grin at the other man.
Karl watched as Chris settled himself down upon the only other vacant chair, hands reaching for the pie and the knife to break through the crust. Chris applied the blade in cutting generous slices, plopping the cherry filled pastry before his lover with a tired smile. Karl, meanwhile was pouring out hot milk into Chris’ mug, adding sugar and cinnamon the way that Chris liked it. Their movements were fluid, easy, well coordinated after sharing plenty of midnight snacks over the years.
Karl caught a hold of Chris’ hand before the other man could pull it away, pie long since delivered before Karl. Chris twined his fingers about and through the other man’s, feeling the warmth that had settled into Karl’s palm from the heated milk. Karl brought Chris’ hand to his mouth, brushing teasing kisses against the other man’s knuckles, making Chris smile with the intimacy displayed in the other man’s gaze. He remained silent, however, and did not relinquish his hand from Karl’s, even when Karl reached for his pie, replacing Chris’ knuckles against his mouth with cherry filled pastry instead.
They ate and drank in silence, Karl’s thumb a constant teasing pressure against the backs of Chris’ fingers. He tracked every last movement of Chris’ tongue, wiping away stray smears of cherry filling from around his mouth. Karl reached up once he’d finished eating, wiped away a smudge of cherry from high up on Chris’ cheeks. He sucked the resultant mess from the pad of his thumb without ever taking his eyes from Chris’ face.
Chris watched him in turn, breath held slightly at the promise held deep within Karl’s gaze, before he leant forward suddenly and pressed a kiss to Karl’s waiting mouth. Karl tasted like warm cherries and sweet milk, with the taste of Karl resting beneath it all. The weight of Karl’s hand upon the back of his head was a welcome comfort, fingers stroking inexorably through the soft strands of Chris’ hair, still bleached out in the Jim Kirk style.
Chris could feel the urgency in Karl’s kisses, the swift, playful teases and presses of the other man’s tongue inside his mouth and Chris hummed out a pleasured note. Finally he drew away, licking his lips instinctively while Karl watched, transfixed. Karl had always loved the way that Chris teased with unconscious movements of his tongue, licking his lips in preparation for speaking and sometimes afterwards too. He always did so after kisses, as though savouring the taste of Karl for a little longer.
“You coming back to bed?” Chris asked, a playful smile suddenly instilling itself upon his face, a cheeky invitation evident in his clear-eyed gaze.
“You offering?” Karl asked, without making it clear as to what Chris might be offering.
Chris knew; he always knew what Karl wanted without Karl himself enunciating his needs. It was one of many reasons why they worked well together; each knowing each other so well, they could function even without talking to one another, second guessing each other’s desires with the tilt of a head and a sly wink at the right time.
“I’m offering,” Chris replied, without hesitation.
“Good,” Karl replied. “’Cos that would be awkward, otherwise.”
“Indeed,” Chris replied, as he stood in one fluid movement, lithe limbs sliding beneath his clothing. “Leave the mess ‘til the morning.”
He gestured towards the abandoned plates and mugs, to the half finished pie still resting upon the table-top. Karl stood a little more slowly as he nodded, without the grace that Chris displayed. He followed Chris upstairs, back into their darkened bedroom, where their love would shine far into the night, like a tender beacon to be fanned by two willing bodies in the darkness.