whitereflection (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whitereflection) wrote2010-11-22 02:33 pm
whitereflection) wrote2010-11-22 02:33 pm
Entry tags:
midwestern hermit (lookit the beeyooteeful plumage)
So very November out there. Making me all tired and hibernatey. Feeling hidey again--think it's the usual pms withdrawing+anxiety thing. My usual. ^^; Promise I'll get to comments tomorrow, but thanks to y'all that said lovely things about yesterday's mininano thing ♥
little sort-of sequel-ish thing to http://whitereflection.livejournal.com/793895.html#cutid1
Outside it's grey and dim, and the trees are skeleton-fingers against the flat, November sky. There's no sun to shine in through the barely-opened curtains, leaving their bedroom almost thunderstorm-dark.
Jared imagines it's cold outside; that's how it's been for the last week, ever since the world seemed to wake up and realize it is almost December now, isn't it? He should be out jogging in that cold like he does most mornings, but he just can't motivate himself to get up and moving.
The reason for that makes a mumbling-grumbling noise into his pillow, yanks at the comforters in an attempt to steal them like the unrepentant blanket-hog he is, and scoots back against Jared.
Jared regards his boyfriend--or the little he can see of him, that is--through bleary, sleep-gummy eyes. The top of Jensen's head is sleep-tousled and spiky, and all Jared really wants to do is nuzzle into that bedhead and make it worse. Especially since beneath the covers and smooth, soft sheets, Jen's as cozy-warm as snuggling up to a space heater (and before he'd woken up, Jared had been dreaming that he was sitting just perfectly close to a crackling fireplace).
To heck with morning jogs. To heck with the cold, with November, with the outside world. They both have the day off today, anyway.
Shifting to his side, Jared wraps his arm around Jensen's waist, pulling him ever that much closer until he's snug in the curve of Jared's body, warm skin against skin. Their legs tangle together instinctively.
Jensen doesn't wake as Jared gently presses a kiss against the nape of his neck. He just breathes out a rumbling, contented sigh, a sound that's half-murmur, half-purr. Jared smiles against his hair, lets his eyes slide shut, and slips back into sleep.
(297)
***
little sort-of sequel-ish thing to http://whitereflection.livejournal.com/793895.html#cutid1
Outside it's grey and dim, and the trees are skeleton-fingers against the flat, November sky. There's no sun to shine in through the barely-opened curtains, leaving their bedroom almost thunderstorm-dark.
Jared imagines it's cold outside; that's how it's been for the last week, ever since the world seemed to wake up and realize it is almost December now, isn't it? He should be out jogging in that cold like he does most mornings, but he just can't motivate himself to get up and moving.
The reason for that makes a mumbling-grumbling noise into his pillow, yanks at the comforters in an attempt to steal them like the unrepentant blanket-hog he is, and scoots back against Jared.
Jared regards his boyfriend--or the little he can see of him, that is--through bleary, sleep-gummy eyes. The top of Jensen's head is sleep-tousled and spiky, and all Jared really wants to do is nuzzle into that bedhead and make it worse. Especially since beneath the covers and smooth, soft sheets, Jen's as cozy-warm as snuggling up to a space heater (and before he'd woken up, Jared had been dreaming that he was sitting just perfectly close to a crackling fireplace).
To heck with morning jogs. To heck with the cold, with November, with the outside world. They both have the day off today, anyway.
Shifting to his side, Jared wraps his arm around Jensen's waist, pulling him ever that much closer until he's snug in the curve of Jared's body, warm skin against skin. Their legs tangle together instinctively.
Jensen doesn't wake as Jared gently presses a kiss against the nape of his neck. He just breathes out a rumbling, contented sigh, a sound that's half-murmur, half-purr. Jared smiles against his hair, lets his eyes slide shut, and slips back into sleep.
(297)
***