Bed
By Annie
EMAIL: Annie
I've never seen Jack like this before, so vulnerable, so seemingly at peace.
He's facing me, one hand beneath the pillow, the other stretched out toward me as if in search of my warmth. His eyelashes are longer than I'd realized, soft against his cheeks, his whole face relaxed in sleep.
I've seen him sleep before, but not here, in my bed. We've shared tents on far off planets, where we've rested bundled in sleeping bags, both of us coiled tight, just barely asleep, all our senses alert to any sign of danger. I've sat beside his infirmary bed as he tossed and turned feverishly, or worse yet lay deathly still and pale.
I've woken in that same infirmary to find him sleeping in a chair next to my bed or sitting tensely, his eyes focused on my face.
But, today, as the sun is just rising, I'm seeing him as if for the first time. It is the first time - the first time I woke knowing he loved me, the first time I woke looking only for him.
I lean forward and brush my lips across his forehead, then down to press dry kisses to his cheek.
His eyes open and he looks at me, grinning a drowsy, slow smile I hope I'm going to see every day for the rest of my life.
"Now that beats an alarm clock hands down," he says. He pulls his hand from under the pillow, raises up on one elbow and crooks his finger at me. "C'mere," he says softly.
I smile back, and crawl across the bed, pushing him over onto his back so I can rest my head on his chest, reaching an arm across his belly to hold him close.
He sighs, his breath warm against my head. "This is nice. I could get used to this."
I nod. "I'd like to get used to this too."
"So why don't we… get used to it?" he asks.
I feel his lips caress the top of my hair, and I smile against his chest, then lick the nipple closest to me. "We could start right now, if you're not doing anything else," I say.
I hear him laugh, his chest vibrating under my ear, and then he topples me over so he's on top of me, smiling down into my face, his eyes warm and brown and soft, his cock hard and silky against mine.
"I love you," I tell him, and he nods, as if he already knows that. "I wish I'd been listening when you told me you loved me the first time."
He silences my mouth with his, then pulls back and runs his fingers through my hair. "You're listening now."
End