Tomorrow, Today, Here
Feb. 23rd, 2006 07:57 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
mikhale.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nickngregTitle: Tomorrow, Today, Here
Series: sequel to One Brief Moment (Scream)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mikhale
Disclaimer: Not mine. Goddamit.
Notes: So, this is the fluffier and shorter sequel to One Brief Moment (Scream). Written under an hour so don't expect much.
Dedication: This is dedicated to my darling, Julia, who showed me that amidst an ocean of indifference, a single drop of concern is more precious than the wealth of the world. Thank you very much, darling.
Tomorrow, Here, Today
I've always liked you when you're moving.
I start the car and you open the radio and it blasts out some rock band. You're already bobbing your head.
You're always moving. You're like the sun, constantly burning energy. They say that the sun will eventually burn out. But I don't think you will. You're this bundle of motion that refuses to be tied down. Sometimes, when you kiss me, it's a little sloppy because you're very eager and excited. And I just can't seem to hold you down.
But I don't mind. Like I said, I've always liked you when you're moving.
And when you stop? God, Greg. Do you know that when you stop moving, you're so beautiful? Do you know that when your head isn't bobbing to some rock song that you're singing, I can look into your eyes and they're very warm. Sometimes, when I feel the ant bites, I think of the time when I first saw you. You were wearing this soft brown shirt which said "Hug Me". It had a little hole on the right shoulder. Whenever I remember that, the bites fade a little. And I'm alright.
When you stop moving, Greg, it's like the world stops to look at you.
You always stop for me. I love it when you do that.
Sometimes, I forget that you're also human.
When you smile, it's like that ray of sunshine that songs sing about. When you touch me, I can hear the "I love you" that your fingers whisper.
When my hands hold your waist, I wonder if you can hear them saying "I love your perfections" and when my fingers trace your scars, I wonder if you can hear me saying "I love your flaws".
We're both scarred now.
When I woke up in the hospital, you were there, standing in the corner. All I wanted was for you to come closer but I didn't want you to. Because all I could remember was that I didn't visit you when you were in the hospital after the explosion.
My father always said that I should be brave and be strong whenever we are tested. But everytime I thought of going to the hospital, I just couldn't. I can't look at you when you're broken. I'm so sorry, Greg.
I just... couldn't.
Even before you kissed me, I already wanted to kiss you. It was after the explosion. When I saw you on the floor, eyes slowly closing, I thought you were dying. And I felt like I was dying with you. I knew that you were the one, Greg.
You were the one.
And now, you're here.
And because of you, I'm alright.
I'm alright.
I make a left, letting an old lady in a Volkswagen pass first. And you're saying something. You're really excited about it but I'm not hearing you. I'm not hearing any words that you say because I'm looking at your lips. They way they move. Do you know how sensual your lips are, Greg? They look so soft and inviting. I just nod at, hopefully, the right places of your spiel.
I can't resist anymore and I kiss you, taking my eyes off the road, something which I would never, ever do but goddamit, Greg, I can't get enough of your lips.
I can't get enough of you.
Your eyes are wide with shock and then you smirk and then you say "watch the road, Nicky".
I love it when you play coy.
We're almost home now. I know you're tired and I can see your eyes drooping a little. I know that when you go inside the house, you're going to take off your shirt and pants and just plop down on our bed before going to sleep. And I'll smile and join you on the bed. I'll put my hand on the small of your back and feel the warmth which you constantly emanate. As long as you're beside me, Greg, I'm not afraid of going to sleep.
You yawn and dammit, yawns are contagious. You're winding down.
And for one brief moment, you stop.
I fall in love again.
I park the car. We're here. You look at me and give me that sleepy smile of yours before you get out. I follow you as you trudge wearily to the bedroom. You take off your shirt and you shuck off your pants, leaving them on the floor. Your shoes didn't even make it into bedroom. You took them off in the living room. You're a slob Greg.
But it's okay.
I'll pick them up later.
You're lying facedown on our bed and I can't resist anymore. I want to feel you sleep. I join you on the bed and my hands go to your lower back. I can feel your scars. Sometimes, I believe that if I touch them long enough, they'll disappear and you'll be perfect again. I want to take your scars, Greg. I want to take that cicatrix of pain and make you whole again. But I don't think you'd let me. And I don't want them to disappear.
The scars are my only proof that you are human.
Tomorrow, I'll wake up and you'll be hogging the sheets.
Tomorrow, you'll complain about not being able to find your shoes. I'll pick them up from the living room and give them to you.
Tomorrow, you'll eat Fruit Loops and watch Saturday morning cartoons.
Tomorrow, you'll read your science journals and you'll force me to wear my glasses because you find me hot when I do.
Tomorrow, you'll drag me to get ice cream because it's too hot.
Tomorrow, I'll lick strawberry ice cream from your fingers because you're a messy eater, Greg.
Tomorrow, I'll put you on the couch and lick your neck and your nipples until I hear that whine that you do when you're really turned on and want to get fucked.
Tomorrow, I'll fuck you hard because I want to hear that breathy moan that you do when you're coming.
But that's tomorrow.
Today, I am not afraid to go to sleep. Today, glass coffins are banished. Today, scars are shared.
I am here with you, Greg.
I am here with you.
Series: sequel to One Brief Moment (Scream)
Author:
mikhaleDisclaimer: Not mine. Goddamit.
Notes: So, this is the fluffier and shorter sequel to One Brief Moment (Scream). Written under an hour so don't expect much.
Dedication: This is dedicated to my darling, Julia, who showed me that amidst an ocean of indifference, a single drop of concern is more precious than the wealth of the world. Thank you very much, darling.
Tomorrow, Here, Today
I've always liked you when you're moving.
I start the car and you open the radio and it blasts out some rock band. You're already bobbing your head.
You're always moving. You're like the sun, constantly burning energy. They say that the sun will eventually burn out. But I don't think you will. You're this bundle of motion that refuses to be tied down. Sometimes, when you kiss me, it's a little sloppy because you're very eager and excited. And I just can't seem to hold you down.
But I don't mind. Like I said, I've always liked you when you're moving.
And when you stop? God, Greg. Do you know that when you stop moving, you're so beautiful? Do you know that when your head isn't bobbing to some rock song that you're singing, I can look into your eyes and they're very warm. Sometimes, when I feel the ant bites, I think of the time when I first saw you. You were wearing this soft brown shirt which said "Hug Me". It had a little hole on the right shoulder. Whenever I remember that, the bites fade a little. And I'm alright.
When you stop moving, Greg, it's like the world stops to look at you.
You always stop for me. I love it when you do that.
Sometimes, I forget that you're also human.
When you smile, it's like that ray of sunshine that songs sing about. When you touch me, I can hear the "I love you" that your fingers whisper.
When my hands hold your waist, I wonder if you can hear them saying "I love your perfections" and when my fingers trace your scars, I wonder if you can hear me saying "I love your flaws".
We're both scarred now.
When I woke up in the hospital, you were there, standing in the corner. All I wanted was for you to come closer but I didn't want you to. Because all I could remember was that I didn't visit you when you were in the hospital after the explosion.
My father always said that I should be brave and be strong whenever we are tested. But everytime I thought of going to the hospital, I just couldn't. I can't look at you when you're broken. I'm so sorry, Greg.
I just... couldn't.
Even before you kissed me, I already wanted to kiss you. It was after the explosion. When I saw you on the floor, eyes slowly closing, I thought you were dying. And I felt like I was dying with you. I knew that you were the one, Greg.
You were the one.
And now, you're here.
And because of you, I'm alright.
I'm alright.
I make a left, letting an old lady in a Volkswagen pass first. And you're saying something. You're really excited about it but I'm not hearing you. I'm not hearing any words that you say because I'm looking at your lips. They way they move. Do you know how sensual your lips are, Greg? They look so soft and inviting. I just nod at, hopefully, the right places of your spiel.
I can't resist anymore and I kiss you, taking my eyes off the road, something which I would never, ever do but goddamit, Greg, I can't get enough of your lips.
I can't get enough of you.
Your eyes are wide with shock and then you smirk and then you say "watch the road, Nicky".
I love it when you play coy.
We're almost home now. I know you're tired and I can see your eyes drooping a little. I know that when you go inside the house, you're going to take off your shirt and pants and just plop down on our bed before going to sleep. And I'll smile and join you on the bed. I'll put my hand on the small of your back and feel the warmth which you constantly emanate. As long as you're beside me, Greg, I'm not afraid of going to sleep.
You yawn and dammit, yawns are contagious. You're winding down.
And for one brief moment, you stop.
I fall in love again.
I park the car. We're here. You look at me and give me that sleepy smile of yours before you get out. I follow you as you trudge wearily to the bedroom. You take off your shirt and you shuck off your pants, leaving them on the floor. Your shoes didn't even make it into bedroom. You took them off in the living room. You're a slob Greg.
But it's okay.
I'll pick them up later.
You're lying facedown on our bed and I can't resist anymore. I want to feel you sleep. I join you on the bed and my hands go to your lower back. I can feel your scars. Sometimes, I believe that if I touch them long enough, they'll disappear and you'll be perfect again. I want to take your scars, Greg. I want to take that cicatrix of pain and make you whole again. But I don't think you'd let me. And I don't want them to disappear.
The scars are my only proof that you are human.
Tomorrow, I'll wake up and you'll be hogging the sheets.
Tomorrow, you'll complain about not being able to find your shoes. I'll pick them up from the living room and give them to you.
Tomorrow, you'll eat Fruit Loops and watch Saturday morning cartoons.
Tomorrow, you'll read your science journals and you'll force me to wear my glasses because you find me hot when I do.
Tomorrow, you'll drag me to get ice cream because it's too hot.
Tomorrow, I'll lick strawberry ice cream from your fingers because you're a messy eater, Greg.
Tomorrow, I'll put you on the couch and lick your neck and your nipples until I hear that whine that you do when you're really turned on and want to get fucked.
Tomorrow, I'll fuck you hard because I want to hear that breathy moan that you do when you're coming.
But that's tomorrow.
Today, I am not afraid to go to sleep. Today, glass coffins are banished. Today, scars are shared.
I am here with you, Greg.
I am here with you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 01:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 04:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 06:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 01:59 pm (UTC)PS And I loved you *HUG ME t-shirt Greggo* just lovely :)
no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 04:25 pm (UTC)I also love the "Hug Me" shirt Greg.
Next up! Porn!
no subject
Date: 2006-02-24 12:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-24 12:38 pm (UTC)I like that as well ;)
no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 04:09 pm (UTC)Sometimes, when you kiss me, it's a little sloppy because you're very eager and excited. And I just can't seem to hold you down.
Enjoyed the story lots!
no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 04:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 05:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 05:49 pm (UTC)And also, thank you for saying that it's beautiful. I think it's a jumbled mess of fluff but hey, Nick is incoherent when it comes to Greg.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 06:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 08:40 pm (UTC)And I so understand Nick, I love my Greggo too.
/A
no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-24 06:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-26 04:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 06:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-06 07:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 08:28 am (UTC)Dear lord, how could you stay away from the stuff? I am addicted to it! Heroine has nothing on slash.
And thank you for commenting. It is very much appreciated.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 12:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-15 05:25 am (UTC)//eyes in-box... oh! now kuriadalmatian at gmail dot com because Yahoo! was being too much a bitch//
There are lots of exceptional things about this fic. There are so many elements to it, especially the affectionate yet adult tone that takes this a step above.
Oh, so it's "fluffier" than than the previous installment, but you connect both effortlessly.
Cheers!
no subject
Date: 2006-03-16 02:17 am (UTC)Oooooo! And we can use the plotline I developed for that meme thing that I did and you answered with the coffee thing! *idea!*
I'll get on it and you get to get the advanced copy. I'll send it to kuriadalmatianmytoastissoburntdamnyoumikhalei'llnevergiveyouyoursoulback at gmail dot com.