Fanfic: Morning Glory (1/1)

[smokingmirror]

Title: Morning Glory
Author: Avarice
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Fox/Collin
Spoilers: -
Summary: Collin has a little trouble getting started in the morning.
Word Count: 2957
Date First Posted: 07-10-2002
Date Revised: 25-05-2011
Beta: Tink
Awards: -
Notes: Collin POV. I giggled when reading my notes for this on my original lj post, because I called this AU as it was written before the boys were a couple. Just wishful thinking, back then :) I was actually not keen on them becoming a couple at the beginning, because I didn't want their friendship to be ruined. Glad they did, though. I forgot how much I liked this fic.
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.
Also Archived At: LJ

I was awake, though it didn't look it. But I didn’t find it necessary to move or even open my eyes when feeling this comfortable. And I was.

I wasn't pressed against the warm body I lay next to, but could feel the heat emanating from it. My right arm draped across his narrow waist, his arm resting lightly over mine. Left leg tangled in a sheet. As far as ways to wake up went, this was definitely one of the better scenarios; almost tragic I had to get up and leave.

Fox and I had collapsed into bed last night exhausted after a long day, barely able to strip down to our underwear -- let alone do anything else -- before falling sound asleep.

And sleep we did. I snooze-buttoned our way through three shrill reminders that it was time to get up. Of course Fox didn't stir once, slumbering like a log. Lucky bastard. But I had things to do that didn't include sleeping the day away next to his inert self.

I blinked my eyes open, too slowly adjusting to the amount of light filtering in the window. Patches warmed my skin, and illuminated certain rises and curves of the long body blocking my exit from the bed. Shit. It was more than enough to give me pause for a moment -- a sure sign not to move.

At least, it would have been if I believed in tripe like that. Wish I did.

With care, I untangled my leg from the sheet and levered myself slowly up onto one elbow. My right arm rested comfortably underneath Fox's, hand grazing his stomach. Fox's eyelashes were dark and thick. You wouldn't think they would have been very visible against his dark skin, but they were. They didn't even flutter as I flexed my fingers to get feeling back into them. Heavy sleeper.

I wasn't worried about waking him as I pulled my arm away, or as the bed dipped under my shifting weight, or even as I hoisted a leg over his thighs to climb out over him. The sole reason as to why I cried out in surprise was because of the hand that shot out and locked around my wrist. Yeah, I got the ever loving shit scared out of me.

"’ The fuck do you think you're doing?!" I spat. I hated the sound of my accelerated heart thumping in my ears.

"The fuck do you think you're doing, baby," he corrected me in a sleep-filled voice. And smug. Did I mention fucking smug? I tried tugging my hand out of his grasp, but the angle at which he'd caught me wasn't very helpful. His grip held fast.

"Whatever, bitch," I replied, hoping to get him distracted. It only succeeded in making him chuckle into his pillow. He turned slightly underneath me.

"Where are you going?" he asked, eyes nothing more than lazy blue slits, yet he still managed to hold me in place.

"Where do you think?" I groused, sliding my leg further over his hips. Yeah, I didn't want to leave, not when he was looking at me like that. But class was class. The inside of my knee brushed the crotch of his blue shorts. And that was wood.

I glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes until my sociology lecture started, and it took ten to get there. Goddamnit.

My eyes found their way back to his. Fox's were open a little more now, and a smile touched the corner of his lips. He wasn't going to make it easy. "Get back down here," he grunted, tugging my captured arm. The prick made me overbalance enough to prop myself up on his chest with the other arm.

"Fox," I began in a warning voice, which stopped abruptly as his other hand wrapped around my bare calf, securing me in my position straddled on his lap.

The wrist-securing hand loosened slightly, but only to pull me down further. I sighed and let him, going down far enough to join my lips to his. Slightly unwilling and running late as I was, my horns got up. So sue me, I’m not a robot.

There was nothing more I wanted to do than sink into the kiss and everything that went along with it. But despite at least 60% of my brain shutting down at the contact of his mouth, 40% still pondered the prospect of coming out on top, figuratively speaking. My left hand, propping my body up over his, was dangerously close to his piercing. I touched it briefly, feeling his body still for a split second. It was worth a shot. Still kissing him, I hooked my finger through the gold hoop and tugged and twisted it gently, while trying to free my wrist of his grip.

It was, to put it bluntly, a spectacular failure. In a blur of movement, I went from being on top of the situation to flat on my back on the bed, legs apart and on either side of his waist and Fox looming over me. The laziness in his eyes had transferred to his mouth, currently set in a languid smile. Blue eyes were, however, sharp and focused. I shut my eyes. Single-minded Fox was very hard to dissuade.

After a long moment's pause, I glanced back at my alarm clock. Class started in eight minutes. Fox caught my gaze. His eyebrows moved together, the only sign of his irritation, before his fist came down unceremoniously on top of the clock, dislodging the power cable plugged into the back. The red numbers vanished from the display.

"Now don't glare," he said in an aggravatingly calm and unconcerned voice, "I'm not moving." I blinked disbelievingly. When had he had time to get his shorts off? I shouldn't have closed my eyes for a second. I felt his index fingers hook into my boxers. "And neither are you."

I wriggled, enough to dislodge his hands and gained enough leverage to prop myself up on my elbows. Fox stopped and stared down at me. Fox was thin, but with muscles packed tightly into a slight frame. Though very strong in his own way, I had a few advantages to do with types of martial arts disabling maneuvers which always put him down. I could have seriously thrown him off me at any time, but that wasn't the point. The point was for me to win the battle of wills and for him to back down on his own.

The sun created patches of brightness on his skin, highlighting the tribal marks on his shoulder, the taut skin of his chest and stomach, shiny black beads encircling his left wrist. I dragged my eyes up from watching him breathe in and out slowly to meet his face.

Fox still stared down at me, patiently waiting for my oh-so-brilliant excuse as to why I didn't want to fuck him.

"I have to get to class," I told him firmly, not moving a muscle. He replied by doing that thing with his lips that made me want to lick them.

Damnit, he made everything so goddamn difficult sometimes. Sure, I liked fucking Fox, but I also liked my high GPA. "I'm serious," I told him adamantly. It was the best argument I could come up with. I waited for his response in kind.

He sat back on his haunches, a hand lightly resting on my left knee. After a long moment of silence, he nodded and gave me a small, acquiescing smile. "Okay," he said, when it wasn't okay. "I understand," he added, when he didn't understand.

But fuck me if he didn't actually shuffle back and completely let me go. I gawked at him, waiting for a catch. Fox just bent one knee and curled his arm around it, wearing a placid expression.

Fox's morning sex to him was the equivalent of my morning cup of coffee -- we just didn't consider leaving the house without it. I waited for him to add something, grab me again, anything, but he didn't. My triumph was hollow, a classic Pyrrhic victory.

But I couldn't complain after I got what I wanted, right?

I moved my legs from around his body, and hauled myself up to a sitting position. He was still in my peripheral vision sitting exactly the same as before, propping his chin on the bent leg, eyes closed. I waited a few moments more.

Nothing.

"Right, I'm going then," I said unnecessarily, prepared for him to tackle me.

"Okay."

And... still nothing.

I shifted my weight on the bed, making to get up. "Leaving now."

"Yep."

My ass was almost off the bed when he actually said something else. "Collin."

I paused. "Yes?"

"Kiss me before you leave?" The simple request caught me. I looked at his face, slightly inclined towards me. His eyes were open, face calm, eyebrows raised slightly in question. He could have tackled me a hundred times by now. But no, he was just asking for a kiss. One little kiss.

I sat myself down properly again. No harm in it, really. Plus, he was prepared to let me go to class, late as I might be. "Fine," I agreed. Fox straightened up a bit and gave me a smile. Fuck but I did really just love to see him smile. One little kiss.

I leant forward and pressed my lips against his, stupidly forgetting one small but quite important point.

Fox was both an expert and an excellent kisser at the best of times, even after being utterly exhausted by sex and barely able to move. And right now he was well rested and full of sexual frustration. I didn't really stand a chance.

His lips were soft, really soft, but still firm. He wasn't invasive, just kept a steady, gentle pressure on my mouth with only a hint of tongue tracing the lines of my lips and no more.

Then, he moved. Rhythmically, but never increasing or decreasing the force of contact. And just when I thought that was all I could handle, I felt his hand come up to cup my left cheek.

Fucking terrific. Here I was trying so hard to be studious and crap, and Fox had to give me the Perfect Kiss.

Son of a bitch! What am I supposed to say to that, eh? 'Thanks for making love to my mouth. Bye'? Absolute fucker.

His other hand came up to cup my right cheek. The kiss got just a little deeper, a little longer, a little harder, and he redefined perfect once again. Fox angled his body towards mine, getting up on his knees but never losing our contact. He leant forward, gently pushing me back with his mouth. With no active resistance, my head hit the pillow again, and my hands pulled him down most of the way to lie on top of me.

I buried my hands in Fox's hair, forcing a deeper kiss again, just wanting to taste him on my tongue. Fox had this particular... flavour. No matter what part of him was near my mouth, it was always the same.

My skin buzzed as he maneuvered himself between my bare legs once again. His mouth moved away from mine, and I was about to protest except that it moved down to my neck, sucking and licking.

His teeth scraped down over my collarbone and I heard this little noise. It actually turned out to be me. I felt him smile against my chest and move closer. I heard another noise when his thumbs brushed my nipples.

I clutched at him, moving my hands down from his hair to his neck, shoulders, anything I could grab, sinking my nails in for purchase at any opportunity. He hissed, and then I found my hands being grabbed. I opened my eyes, panting.

"Wha? Why?" I so eloquently bit out.

Fox studied my clasped hands going white-knuckled with tension, and bent down to kiss them. He kissed each finger softly, tongue skimming over them, making me shudder.

"Relax," he whispered, drawing out the 'x' into a sultry hiss. Fox opened my left hand and licked the palm.

Oh yeah, that whimpering was me.

He placed my hands onto my stomach, right above the waistband of my grossly distorted boxers. Careful not to touch me at all, he caught his fingers in the elastic as before, and inched them down over my hipbones. I couldn't really think of any reason why he shouldn't, and was thinking of a few names to call him because he wasn't doing it faster.

He gave me that lickable smile again when I helped them past my ass, but didn't speed up, even when peeling them off my legs.

Fox was driving me crazy. On purpose. My whole body was coiled tightly like a spring, each touch was a stone dropped into a pond, and sensation rippled throughout me from the contact point. It hurt, it tingled, it hummed.

It was glorious.

But I couldn't wait much longer. And for all his expertise, neither could Fox.

He loomed closer, our dicks touched. He smiled lazily, and reached over to the bedside. The drawer opened and I heard him rummage, and also the happy purr of triumph when he found the tube.

Lid screwed off, Fox skimmed flat palms over my thighs. Then his fingers were cold and deft and... and there were those noises again. My head throbbed, but that paled in comparison to the ache. It hurt and he needed to do something. Anyfuckingthing.

"Fox..." My throat was so parched, his name sounded scratchy on my lips.

His fingers were cold and wet as he latched onto my calves. "Lift your hips," he ordered. When I complied, Fox put his hands underneath me and angled my body up. He rested my knees over his shoulders and then stopped.

"Now, wasn't there somewhere else you were supposed to be?" Fox asked, smirking.

"Fuck me," I retorted. Stupid brain, I meant to say 'fuck you'! Well, same difference, really. His laughing lips grazed the inside of my knee as he pushed into me.

There was always a moment after we joined that he stopped and stared at me, drawing my soul out through my eyes. His were so dark, the colour of ocean at midnight. They held me spellbound for that second of stillness, before he moved. It was broken, and higher thoughts were washed away by something far more hedonistic.

For all our needs, he took it slower than I thought he'd be able to. Slower than I wanted, at any rate, but somehow still just right. Long strokes, even and rhythmic. I wanted so much to swear at him to hurry the fuck up, but every time I opened my mouth, what came out couldn't be called words of any kind.

My chest rose and fell rapidly, and Fox was slick with sweat from keeping control he didn't feel. It sparkled, blurring my vision of him as much as the tears of pleasure in my eyes did. Not crying, fuck no, just... so much to feel at once. Like dying and being born in one breath or some poetic crap like that.

I was so gone. He knew it, I knew it, probably all our neighbours knew it too. They did for sure when he wrapped his hand around my dick, though.

"Kai-- aaaa -- aaii-" The cry was torn from my throat, my back bowed up off the bed, and I felt the fingers of his hand dig into my thigh, even as the other pumped me dry. Two more strokes and he tensed. On the edge of my senses I felt the warm rush, and was somewhat grateful that he lowered himself -- and didn't fall -- down on top of me.

Fox raised his head and kissed me lazily. It wasn't like the other kisses. This was easy and... friendly. Almost like a thank you. He then reached over to rummage in the nightstand again, producing a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. It wasn't so much a post-sex ritual as it was we just always happened to have sex before the morning cigarette ritual.

He lit the cig and inhaled, then puffed out a steady stream of smoke away from my face. "Now you can go to class," he said, amused.

I snorted and stole the cigarette out of his mouth. People who smoked after sex really knew what they were doing. It was a post-sex orgasm all its own, sort of like looking into deep, warm blue eyes.

Fox's bangs were all over the place, obscuring most of his face, sticking to his skin. I gently brushed them out of his eyes and away from his face with both hands. Much better. He blinked slowly, then slowly his face split in a white, heart-stopping smile. Fuck but I really did just love to see him smile.

Fox dropped his head down onto my chest, cheek against my shoulder, and shuffled over slightly. He was still mostly on top of me, but our limbs were threaded together comfortably.

I combed my fingers through Fox's hair and finished the cig, listening to his happy purring sounds. I didn't realise they had stopped and he'd fallen asleep until after my eyelids started to droop as well.

It wasn't worth fighting, moving was not an option, and I didn't have anything better to do than sleep the day away tangled with his inert self. With an achey, satisfied smile, I wrapped my arms around 135 pounds of slumbering Fox and joined him in sleep once again.

~finis