life fic: one plus one, crews/reese
Apr. 9th, 2009 06:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
withimpunityTitle: One Plus One
Pairing: Crews/Reese
Rating: PG
Words: 432
Disclaimer: Life is not mine. I just need moar!
And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.
-T.S. Eliot
You trace her lips with your fingers, staring into those dark chocolate eyes, and the moment your lips touch down on hers, you just know. Every moment of your life has been growing and molding you, preparing you for this exact moment. Ever since the beginning -- before prison, before the academy, before everything. It was all leading up to this, for both of you. Everything, everything is connected. For her to be, so did you. For you to be happy, so did she. It was always going to be, you just had to wait for the right moment.
All I need is a moment.
She said that to you once when she leaned on you, trusted you with so much, and you think part of you has known ever since then about this thing between you. Its how you can finish her sentences, how she knows what you’re thinking without you having to speak a word. You communicate in code, your own organic language; she blinks, you twist your mouth or wrinkle your forehead, and everything is said, not a single word needed.
And when she touches you, you feel like you've finally found a home. Her soft hands brush your back as she passes you in the kitchen, non-verbal because its too early for that and she hasn’t had her coffee yet, but you can feel her good morning in the way her fingers drag across your skin and linger there while she pours her first cup.
She’s beautiful in a way you’ve never seen any person before; she encompasses it, she is it. Sometimes you just stand there and squint through the foggy glass as she showers, watching the vague silhouette of her subtle curves twist and arch as she washes the soap from her hair. You know what the bubbles look like as they roll down her spine, how the water rushes down the crevice of her breasts. You know what she looks like later, reading glasses low on her nose, sprawled out in those old sweats with a book resting in her tiny hands. You know what she looks like half in your lap, laughing heartily at Jon Stewart’s accurate mocking of the current presidential staff. You know what she looks like beneath you, on top of you, all around you. You know what it feels like to drown in this thing, and sometimes, sometimes you think its too big for you.
“Crews. Crews, you here?”
“Yeah. I’m here.” You press your lips to the part in her hair and turn the tv up. Sometimes you get lost in the wrong moment, but that’s why you have her. She always brings you back.
Pairing: Crews/Reese
Rating: PG
Words: 432
Disclaimer: Life is not mine. I just need moar!
And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.
-T.S. Eliot
You trace her lips with your fingers, staring into those dark chocolate eyes, and the moment your lips touch down on hers, you just know. Every moment of your life has been growing and molding you, preparing you for this exact moment. Ever since the beginning -- before prison, before the academy, before everything. It was all leading up to this, for both of you. Everything, everything is connected. For her to be, so did you. For you to be happy, so did she. It was always going to be, you just had to wait for the right moment.
All I need is a moment.
She said that to you once when she leaned on you, trusted you with so much, and you think part of you has known ever since then about this thing between you. Its how you can finish her sentences, how she knows what you’re thinking without you having to speak a word. You communicate in code, your own organic language; she blinks, you twist your mouth or wrinkle your forehead, and everything is said, not a single word needed.
And when she touches you, you feel like you've finally found a home. Her soft hands brush your back as she passes you in the kitchen, non-verbal because its too early for that and she hasn’t had her coffee yet, but you can feel her good morning in the way her fingers drag across your skin and linger there while she pours her first cup.
She’s beautiful in a way you’ve never seen any person before; she encompasses it, she is it. Sometimes you just stand there and squint through the foggy glass as she showers, watching the vague silhouette of her subtle curves twist and arch as she washes the soap from her hair. You know what the bubbles look like as they roll down her spine, how the water rushes down the crevice of her breasts. You know what she looks like later, reading glasses low on her nose, sprawled out in those old sweats with a book resting in her tiny hands. You know what she looks like half in your lap, laughing heartily at Jon Stewart’s accurate mocking of the current presidential staff. You know what she looks like beneath you, on top of you, all around you. You know what it feels like to drown in this thing, and sometimes, sometimes you think its too big for you.
“Crews. Crews, you here?”
“Yeah. I’m here.” You press your lips to the part in her hair and turn the tv up. Sometimes you get lost in the wrong moment, but that’s why you have her. She always brings you back.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-10 04:39 pm (UTC)I love his thoughts - they're very much in character, especially after that episode. Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-10 05:01 pm (UTC)