Basking in the Sun
Jul 1, 2019 3:57:03 GMT
Post by Manchee on Jul 1, 2019 3:57:03 GMT
Author's Note: This is my piece for the Rock the Block for June 2019! It's really simple but I just wanted to do something cute and to the point that showed two men enjoying a lazy morning together :)
It happens early one morning after you wake up from a dream that must have been influenced by that Kalosian history documentary you fell asleep to last night. Only your dream was much more entertaining: you and an army of homoerotic warriors were storming a medieval castle to take it back from a king trying to promote his heterosexual agenda over the kingdom. Even with nothing but a cast iron pan to defend yourself, you managed to survive the battle and make it to the king’s quarters and fight amongst your fellow fags to take him down and bring in a new era of queer supremacy.
Somehow, you and the devilishly attractive, spear-wielding man that fought alongside you were named the new kings and immediately began a grandiose wedding that included an alarming number of men dressed in glittery leather instead of anything remotely accurate to medieval times. Luckily enough neither you nor your spear queer of a husband were jealous of each other flirting with as many of the men as possible and should you have stayed asleep things probably would have gotten pretty steamy sooner rather than later. But it ended up being a sixty-nine-layer cake decorated with elegant swirls of pastel and rainbows which made your consciousness aware enough to realize that you were probably dreaming, and the next moment you found yourself back to reality.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that, quite frankly.
A cool summer air blows lazily through the open window, causing the sheer curtains to softly dance around and filter golden sunlight around the bedroom. From your spot on the bed the entire room still looks too good to be true. Your whole life you thought you were a big city boy, but all it took was one man to say he loved you and the next minute you were open to finding an apartment anywhere he wanted, including a small and relaxed seaside city where the most exciting thing going on is a local shop selling a new seasonal coffee flavor. And now that it’s officially been a year living in the same place, you can say that you wouldn’t trade it for anything. To be happy and in love with someone that goes to bed with you every night is more than your gay heart ever thought it would experience.
And if you look past your own feelings you can confidently acknowledge that the laid-back life is better on Jules, too – on the floor in one of the spots where a direct ray of sun warms the wood, your helioptile is sprawled out to absorb as much of it as she can. That alone is enough confirmation that moving all the way to a new region was worth it. Despite living in Humilau before, your cramped apartment in the middle of the busiest neighborhood of the city didn’t have any nice spots for her to stretch out and photosynthesize. It wasn’t the worst thing ever, and she did get enough sunlight when you two would go to the beach, but there’s no denying that her overall health and behavior is much better than is used to be.
For an eight-year-old helioptile, she could give adolescents of her species a run for their money. The amount of energy she has since you made the move from Humilau is just crazy. Sometimes you get tired before she does. Not that anyone would know that by looking at her right now. Her mouth hangs open just the slightest bit, something Sean has said that you also do when you’re in a deep sleep. At the thought of him, the pressure of his arm draped over your waist becomes more noticeable and you nestle yourself closer to his body.
The thoughts of the man from your dream fade into memory as you start to enjoy what is here in reality. You’ve got a man who loves you, you’ve got your nice little apartment that the two of you can comfortably afford, and you’ve got a middle-aged helioptile that doesn’t give you any trouble at all. What more could you want? To top it all off, there are mornings like this one when there is nothing that either of you need to be up and doing and you can slowly wake up together, enjoying the warmth underneath your comforter. You smile and blink away the sleepiness from your eyes, breathing in the salty air of Coumarine drifting around the room. It doesn’t have the same harsh taste to it that Humilau did, but it’s enough to bring up the memories of when you and Sean met while both working in Unova.
It was only a thirty-minute break in the middle of your longest day of the week and all you wanted was a good burger. None of the pretentious lettuce cultivated from native sewaddle or the weird maractus flower sauce everyone seemed to love drizzling over every fucking thing to make it “elevated.” Just one juicy patty between two buns. Was that too much to ask for? Apparently. You should have known the second that the waiter questioned you for ordering just that. But to walk all the way to Stack ’n Shack would have only left you with a few minutes to order, wait for your food, and eat it.
So, instead, you calmly tried to explain the concept of a plain burger to the man and proceed to wait patiently for a meal you knew would be messed up. It wasn’t his fault that the chef used the special Nacrene steak seasoning and put it on a toasted sunflower seed bun. Or maybe it was, but either way he got the brunt of your frustration that should have been directed towards the customers you constantly kissed up to. And then you had to go and say the one thing you vowed to never do and asked for the chef to come speak to you.
You were really ready to let him have it. The whole speech was planned in your head and practically spilling out under your breath while you waited (smelling the admittedly delicious scents coming from the patty in front of you) for this poser of a professional chef to come out and hear what was wrong with his establishment. You could probably still write it out word for word if you thought hard enough. It was a damn good speech, too. But then he appeared in front of you wearing his full chef attire looking cuter than anyone you’d seen yet in Humilau and it was like he reached into your brain and scrambled the words around so you had no more argument to make.
“Is something wrong with your food?” he asked. The concern in his eyes was real, but his tone told you that he was not about to believe anything you had to say.
Composing yourself as best as you could and hoping there was nothing leftover on your face from the one bite you took of the burger, you said, “Um, yeah. This isn’t what I asked for.”
And he looked at your plate, and then back at you, and if you had bigger balls you might have actually slapped the smug look from his face. Who was he to look for himself and judge if it was what you ordered? After your own years spent having to remember that the customer was always right, it was only common sense that he would follow suit.
“Would you like me to make you another one?”
Part of you wanted to say yes just to shove it in his face that he had to listen to you, but there wasn’t much time left to walk back to work and clock in.
“I have to get back to my shift,” you said.
“How about when you’re done?” he offered. “It would be on the house.”
You shook your head and told him, “I’d rather not come back to a place that can’t make a plain burger.”
Without missing a beat he asked, “Then how about somewhere else?”
That was enough to totally throw you off and for a second you forgot how frustrated you felt.
“You’re a chef at another restaurant around here?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “But I’d like to take you out somewhere to make it up to you.”
And then he did it.
He fucking smiled.
You didn’t stand a chance after that. The dorkiness of his apron and chef hat, the confidence he presented himself with, the directness of asking you on a date. Needless to say, he got more than a date out of it that night, and the three nights following it, too.
It’s a memory that still excites you. At the thought of it, you feel a sensual energy roll through your body and you press even closer to him in response. It’s enough to wake him up a little and when you hear him mumble something to you, you crane your neck and gently kiss him on the lips. His eyes remain closed and your lips brush against one another until his hands start to slide down your waist and then you are really pressing yourself into him, contorting your body awkwardly to start feeling him up as well.
By the time it’s over and the two of you settle back under the covers, the sun is shining brightly over Coumarine. This time you spoon him so that you can face away from the light and with his body wrapped tightly in your arms, both of you are asleep within minutes. You dream about walking through the city with him by your side picking out random fruits and knickknacks from stands along the street just like you do on most days when your days off line up. You visit all of the produce stands, of course, because everyone knows Sean for being the best chef in all of Coumarine. Most of them save their good stuff for him, and after all the kanska pancakes he’s made you using perfectly ripened grepa berries you can confirm that homemade is better than eating out.
If you were selfish, it would bother you how many of them praise Sean for what he does. It’s hard to go most places without him knowing someone or being able to find someone who knows someone that he knows. But you’re not, and he loves you for that, because something about you two just clicks and it’s not difficult at all to find ways to support one another and highlight the things that deserve to be praised. Maybe it’s because you know the support will always come back around and that’s why you enjoy him being praised almost more than he does. And then after he’s done with his section of stands, you get to visit the places selling useless tchotchkes that sometimes you buy just to put on a cluttered shelf and forget about.
It’s weird how often you dream of the day-to-day things while you’re lying in bed with Sean, but if it’s not too sappy to say, you enjoy it. Going to sleep at night is only difficult because you can’t spend more time awake with him, so seeing him in your dreams is the best kind of compromise. Even when you wake up from one dream and fall asleep to start a totally different one, chances are it will include him and will probably take place in your kitchen while he is making some crazy new recipe for you.
And to top it off, sometimes you wake up and your helioptile is climbing over your bodies looking for a comfortable place to curl up. Like right now. Somehow she manages to worm herself between the two of you and look at you with the most sincere expression you have ever seen on a pokémon, and there is no way you can deny her of joining in on the morning cuddles.
“That’s a comfy girl,” you say, running a hand down from the top of her head all the way to her tail and then pulling her into the curl of your body. Sean shifts ever so slightly to give her some more room and then your arm is draped over the two of them, leaving you as comfortable as you could possibly be.
There’s nothing you could want more than to be able to be right here spending a lazy morning with the man of your dreams and the tiny little family you have made for yourselves.
Basking in the Sun
It happens early one morning after you wake up from a dream that must have been influenced by that Kalosian history documentary you fell asleep to last night. Only your dream was much more entertaining: you and an army of homoerotic warriors were storming a medieval castle to take it back from a king trying to promote his heterosexual agenda over the kingdom. Even with nothing but a cast iron pan to defend yourself, you managed to survive the battle and make it to the king’s quarters and fight amongst your fellow fags to take him down and bring in a new era of queer supremacy.
Somehow, you and the devilishly attractive, spear-wielding man that fought alongside you were named the new kings and immediately began a grandiose wedding that included an alarming number of men dressed in glittery leather instead of anything remotely accurate to medieval times. Luckily enough neither you nor your spear queer of a husband were jealous of each other flirting with as many of the men as possible and should you have stayed asleep things probably would have gotten pretty steamy sooner rather than later. But it ended up being a sixty-nine-layer cake decorated with elegant swirls of pastel and rainbows which made your consciousness aware enough to realize that you were probably dreaming, and the next moment you found yourself back to reality.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that, quite frankly.
A cool summer air blows lazily through the open window, causing the sheer curtains to softly dance around and filter golden sunlight around the bedroom. From your spot on the bed the entire room still looks too good to be true. Your whole life you thought you were a big city boy, but all it took was one man to say he loved you and the next minute you were open to finding an apartment anywhere he wanted, including a small and relaxed seaside city where the most exciting thing going on is a local shop selling a new seasonal coffee flavor. And now that it’s officially been a year living in the same place, you can say that you wouldn’t trade it for anything. To be happy and in love with someone that goes to bed with you every night is more than your gay heart ever thought it would experience.
And if you look past your own feelings you can confidently acknowledge that the laid-back life is better on Jules, too – on the floor in one of the spots where a direct ray of sun warms the wood, your helioptile is sprawled out to absorb as much of it as she can. That alone is enough confirmation that moving all the way to a new region was worth it. Despite living in Humilau before, your cramped apartment in the middle of the busiest neighborhood of the city didn’t have any nice spots for her to stretch out and photosynthesize. It wasn’t the worst thing ever, and she did get enough sunlight when you two would go to the beach, but there’s no denying that her overall health and behavior is much better than is used to be.
For an eight-year-old helioptile, she could give adolescents of her species a run for their money. The amount of energy she has since you made the move from Humilau is just crazy. Sometimes you get tired before she does. Not that anyone would know that by looking at her right now. Her mouth hangs open just the slightest bit, something Sean has said that you also do when you’re in a deep sleep. At the thought of him, the pressure of his arm draped over your waist becomes more noticeable and you nestle yourself closer to his body.
The thoughts of the man from your dream fade into memory as you start to enjoy what is here in reality. You’ve got a man who loves you, you’ve got your nice little apartment that the two of you can comfortably afford, and you’ve got a middle-aged helioptile that doesn’t give you any trouble at all. What more could you want? To top it all off, there are mornings like this one when there is nothing that either of you need to be up and doing and you can slowly wake up together, enjoying the warmth underneath your comforter. You smile and blink away the sleepiness from your eyes, breathing in the salty air of Coumarine drifting around the room. It doesn’t have the same harsh taste to it that Humilau did, but it’s enough to bring up the memories of when you and Sean met while both working in Unova.
It was only a thirty-minute break in the middle of your longest day of the week and all you wanted was a good burger. None of the pretentious lettuce cultivated from native sewaddle or the weird maractus flower sauce everyone seemed to love drizzling over every fucking thing to make it “elevated.” Just one juicy patty between two buns. Was that too much to ask for? Apparently. You should have known the second that the waiter questioned you for ordering just that. But to walk all the way to Stack ’n Shack would have only left you with a few minutes to order, wait for your food, and eat it.
So, instead, you calmly tried to explain the concept of a plain burger to the man and proceed to wait patiently for a meal you knew would be messed up. It wasn’t his fault that the chef used the special Nacrene steak seasoning and put it on a toasted sunflower seed bun. Or maybe it was, but either way he got the brunt of your frustration that should have been directed towards the customers you constantly kissed up to. And then you had to go and say the one thing you vowed to never do and asked for the chef to come speak to you.
You were really ready to let him have it. The whole speech was planned in your head and practically spilling out under your breath while you waited (smelling the admittedly delicious scents coming from the patty in front of you) for this poser of a professional chef to come out and hear what was wrong with his establishment. You could probably still write it out word for word if you thought hard enough. It was a damn good speech, too. But then he appeared in front of you wearing his full chef attire looking cuter than anyone you’d seen yet in Humilau and it was like he reached into your brain and scrambled the words around so you had no more argument to make.
“Is something wrong with your food?” he asked. The concern in his eyes was real, but his tone told you that he was not about to believe anything you had to say.
Composing yourself as best as you could and hoping there was nothing leftover on your face from the one bite you took of the burger, you said, “Um, yeah. This isn’t what I asked for.”
And he looked at your plate, and then back at you, and if you had bigger balls you might have actually slapped the smug look from his face. Who was he to look for himself and judge if it was what you ordered? After your own years spent having to remember that the customer was always right, it was only common sense that he would follow suit.
“Would you like me to make you another one?”
Part of you wanted to say yes just to shove it in his face that he had to listen to you, but there wasn’t much time left to walk back to work and clock in.
“I have to get back to my shift,” you said.
“How about when you’re done?” he offered. “It would be on the house.”
You shook your head and told him, “I’d rather not come back to a place that can’t make a plain burger.”
Without missing a beat he asked, “Then how about somewhere else?”
That was enough to totally throw you off and for a second you forgot how frustrated you felt.
“You’re a chef at another restaurant around here?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “But I’d like to take you out somewhere to make it up to you.”
And then he did it.
He fucking smiled.
You didn’t stand a chance after that. The dorkiness of his apron and chef hat, the confidence he presented himself with, the directness of asking you on a date. Needless to say, he got more than a date out of it that night, and the three nights following it, too.
It’s a memory that still excites you. At the thought of it, you feel a sensual energy roll through your body and you press even closer to him in response. It’s enough to wake him up a little and when you hear him mumble something to you, you crane your neck and gently kiss him on the lips. His eyes remain closed and your lips brush against one another until his hands start to slide down your waist and then you are really pressing yourself into him, contorting your body awkwardly to start feeling him up as well.
By the time it’s over and the two of you settle back under the covers, the sun is shining brightly over Coumarine. This time you spoon him so that you can face away from the light and with his body wrapped tightly in your arms, both of you are asleep within minutes. You dream about walking through the city with him by your side picking out random fruits and knickknacks from stands along the street just like you do on most days when your days off line up. You visit all of the produce stands, of course, because everyone knows Sean for being the best chef in all of Coumarine. Most of them save their good stuff for him, and after all the kanska pancakes he’s made you using perfectly ripened grepa berries you can confirm that homemade is better than eating out.
If you were selfish, it would bother you how many of them praise Sean for what he does. It’s hard to go most places without him knowing someone or being able to find someone who knows someone that he knows. But you’re not, and he loves you for that, because something about you two just clicks and it’s not difficult at all to find ways to support one another and highlight the things that deserve to be praised. Maybe it’s because you know the support will always come back around and that’s why you enjoy him being praised almost more than he does. And then after he’s done with his section of stands, you get to visit the places selling useless tchotchkes that sometimes you buy just to put on a cluttered shelf and forget about.
It’s weird how often you dream of the day-to-day things while you’re lying in bed with Sean, but if it’s not too sappy to say, you enjoy it. Going to sleep at night is only difficult because you can’t spend more time awake with him, so seeing him in your dreams is the best kind of compromise. Even when you wake up from one dream and fall asleep to start a totally different one, chances are it will include him and will probably take place in your kitchen while he is making some crazy new recipe for you.
And to top it off, sometimes you wake up and your helioptile is climbing over your bodies looking for a comfortable place to curl up. Like right now. Somehow she manages to worm herself between the two of you and look at you with the most sincere expression you have ever seen on a pokémon, and there is no way you can deny her of joining in on the morning cuddles.
“That’s a comfy girl,” you say, running a hand down from the top of her head all the way to her tail and then pulling her into the curl of your body. Sean shifts ever so slightly to give her some more room and then your arm is draped over the two of them, leaving you as comfortable as you could possibly be.
There’s nothing you could want more than to be able to be right here spending a lazy morning with the man of your dreams and the tiny little family you have made for yourselves.
