Time And Tide (Prompt 1, David/Charlie)
Jun. 8th, 2006 01:36 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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fic_variationsTitle: Time And Tide
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dragonessasmith
Rating: K
Words: 742
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fic_variations Prompt/Claim: Time // David/Charlie
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Slash, Domesticity, Lack Of Math
Count: 1/10
Author's Notes: A slice of almost-domestic almost-bliss for David and Charlie.
David quietly let himself in the front door, making sure to lock it behind him. As he slowly navigated the pitch-black living room, he couldn't help but wonder if all the oddly situated, shin-high objects he kept running into were Alan's idea of revenge, or just an innocent act of bored-one-day interior decorating.
As he ran into a third randomly placed end table directly next to the bottom of the stairs, he decided it had to be revenge.
It had been surprisingly simple, actually, their coming out to Alan. He'd looked at David over the tops of his glasses, then looked at Charlie. He then turned to Don, who was slowly turning red, and asked, "Well Donny, what do you think?"
It still didn't mean that Alan greeted David warmly when they were both emerging from their respective bedrooms at the same time, David with a slight smile that always disappeared when he saw Alan's tired, grumpy frown. It was the type of frown that reminded him of his time at Quantico, and the reasons he had decided against becoming a sniper. He hadn’t been the stealthiest of the recruits.
Speaking of stealth...the light under Charlie's bedroom door proved beyond a doubt that he had none whatsoever. He took the last few steps two at a time, looking forward to a good night's sleep for once. That was, until he saw the look on Charlie's face when he walked in.
He didn't look up from whatever book he'd been reading, but Charlie still acknowledged David's entrance...with an extra-renewed annoyance in the way he flicked over to the next page.
"I'm sorry." He started, figuring it was better safe than sorry.
"You're late." Charlie sighed finally. "Again."
"Don-"
"Don? You sure it wasn't Megan this time? Or maybe Colby's car got a flat tire again. Any obscure relatives die this month? I haven't heard that excuse in a long time, even from my students."
David felt his shoulders start to rise, his body language becoming instinctively more defensive. He sat down on the foot of the bed and started untying his shoelaces slowly, more for the focus and distraction than anything else.
"They're not 'excuses', Charlie. Besides which, you of all people should understand that my job sometimes gives me-"
"It gives you an unpredictable work schedule, I know, I know. Just..." He still hadn't looked up from the book, but it was obvious he wasn't reading anymore. "Don got here almost three hour ago. I was...worried. Kind of."
"Yeah, well. Don was at the office getting O'Brien's confession. I was out at Sierra Madre, attempting to check out another suspect, when I got the call to head home. Traffic was a nightmare. Complete mess." He glanced up as he pulled his other shoe off. Charlie was watching him almost curiously; David grinned. "You'd understand if you ever actually, you know, got your license."
Charlie smiled slightly. Success, his mind cheered silently.
"Why do I need to get my license when I have such a great network of friends-"
"Chauffers."
"Taxis." Charlie corrected, flipping the book shut and crossing over to the other side of the bed. "I pay for gas, and if you ask me, you guys are getting the better end of the deal. Three fifty a gallon, man. Literal highway robbery."
David's snort of laughter was muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head. "You only think that’s worse because you've never had to drive yourself anywhere."
Charlie watched as he stripped off his pants, tossing them onto the chair as well before climbing under the covers.
"I really hate it when you don't change before you get in bed." He added. David noticed for the first time that Charlie had already been in his pajamas.
"What's wrong with my clothes? They're not sweaty or anything. No one tried to run today." David rolled over, reaching out to turn off the lamp. “In fact, I spent most of today in the car, air conditioner on full blast.”
"Do you have any idea how many times the number of microbes on your person has grown exponentially since you got dressed this morning, regardless of what you did or didn’t do? That’s not counting-"
"Good night, Charlie..."
There was a moment of silence, and then the covers rustled as Charlie rolled over, arms wrapping around his waist.
"Night David."
He smiled up at the dark ceiling. "Love you."
"Love you too."
Author:
dragonessasmithRating: K
Words: 742
fic_variations Prompt/Claim: Time // David/CharlieSpoilers: None
Warnings: Slash, Domesticity, Lack Of Math
Count: 1/10
Author's Notes: A slice of almost-domestic almost-bliss for David and Charlie.
David quietly let himself in the front door, making sure to lock it behind him. As he slowly navigated the pitch-black living room, he couldn't help but wonder if all the oddly situated, shin-high objects he kept running into were Alan's idea of revenge, or just an innocent act of bored-one-day interior decorating.
As he ran into a third randomly placed end table directly next to the bottom of the stairs, he decided it had to be revenge.
It had been surprisingly simple, actually, their coming out to Alan. He'd looked at David over the tops of his glasses, then looked at Charlie. He then turned to Don, who was slowly turning red, and asked, "Well Donny, what do you think?"
It still didn't mean that Alan greeted David warmly when they were both emerging from their respective bedrooms at the same time, David with a slight smile that always disappeared when he saw Alan's tired, grumpy frown. It was the type of frown that reminded him of his time at Quantico, and the reasons he had decided against becoming a sniper. He hadn’t been the stealthiest of the recruits.
Speaking of stealth...the light under Charlie's bedroom door proved beyond a doubt that he had none whatsoever. He took the last few steps two at a time, looking forward to a good night's sleep for once. That was, until he saw the look on Charlie's face when he walked in.
He didn't look up from whatever book he'd been reading, but Charlie still acknowledged David's entrance...with an extra-renewed annoyance in the way he flicked over to the next page.
"I'm sorry." He started, figuring it was better safe than sorry.
"You're late." Charlie sighed finally. "Again."
"Don-"
"Don? You sure it wasn't Megan this time? Or maybe Colby's car got a flat tire again. Any obscure relatives die this month? I haven't heard that excuse in a long time, even from my students."
David felt his shoulders start to rise, his body language becoming instinctively more defensive. He sat down on the foot of the bed and started untying his shoelaces slowly, more for the focus and distraction than anything else.
"They're not 'excuses', Charlie. Besides which, you of all people should understand that my job sometimes gives me-"
"It gives you an unpredictable work schedule, I know, I know. Just..." He still hadn't looked up from the book, but it was obvious he wasn't reading anymore. "Don got here almost three hour ago. I was...worried. Kind of."
"Yeah, well. Don was at the office getting O'Brien's confession. I was out at Sierra Madre, attempting to check out another suspect, when I got the call to head home. Traffic was a nightmare. Complete mess." He glanced up as he pulled his other shoe off. Charlie was watching him almost curiously; David grinned. "You'd understand if you ever actually, you know, got your license."
Charlie smiled slightly. Success, his mind cheered silently.
"Why do I need to get my license when I have such a great network of friends-"
"Chauffers."
"Taxis." Charlie corrected, flipping the book shut and crossing over to the other side of the bed. "I pay for gas, and if you ask me, you guys are getting the better end of the deal. Three fifty a gallon, man. Literal highway robbery."
David's snort of laughter was muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head. "You only think that’s worse because you've never had to drive yourself anywhere."
Charlie watched as he stripped off his pants, tossing them onto the chair as well before climbing under the covers.
"I really hate it when you don't change before you get in bed." He added. David noticed for the first time that Charlie had already been in his pajamas.
"What's wrong with my clothes? They're not sweaty or anything. No one tried to run today." David rolled over, reaching out to turn off the lamp. “In fact, I spent most of today in the car, air conditioner on full blast.”
"Do you have any idea how many times the number of microbes on your person has grown exponentially since you got dressed this morning, regardless of what you did or didn’t do? That’s not counting-"
"Good night, Charlie..."
There was a moment of silence, and then the covers rustled as Charlie rolled over, arms wrapping around his waist.
"Night David."
He smiled up at the dark ceiling. "Love you."
"Love you too."
