Hmmm, this feels sooooo good.

Nice, warm, comfy.  Soft.  And…hmmmm…that smell. Niiiice.  Just like… like…Jack…

Jack?

Omigawd, where am I?

I don’t believe this; I’ve done it again.  Unless I’m dreaming, and I’m pretty sure I’m not, that nice soft ‘pillow’ I’m resting on, the flannel against my cheek, those fingers rifling through my hair…

Oh my God, I have done it again; Doctor ‘Can’t hold his beer’ has let Jack down and screwed up our guys’ night by falling asleep for the umpeenth time in a row.  Crap.

Of course, if I am asleep it’s possible I still am.  Here’s hoping, anyway.

I crack open an eyelid, just to check the premise.  Damn, I’m not home in bed only dreaming I’m doing this; I’m exactly where I think I am. Jack’s looking down at me, an indulgent expression on his face, his umber eyes quietly sparkling, gentle with affectionate amusement.

Smug bastard, you are so enjoying this, aren’t you?

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he waggles his eyebrows at me with rakish enthusiasm, a slow smile spreading across his face.  “Nice of you to join me again.”

I do not believe this.  I can’t have fallen asleep on him again.  And I do mean, on him.  I’m stretched out on the couch, my head in his lap, my face frankly burrowed into his warm belly.

I’ve conked out on him again.  God, this is so embarrassing! What are we talking now, what, the fourth – no fifth time in a row, every time we’ve gotten together at Jack’s house for the last couple of weeks we have some dinner then hit the couch, I start out with the best of intentions, fully meaning to go the distance and watch – what was it he put on tonight – I honestly don’t remember, it was some thing with Bruce Willis blowing shit up, but whatever, anyway, every time, that’s the way it starts, Jack and me settling in after dinner for a guy’s night, drinking, and not talking, taking in the game or the movie or whatever Jack’s decided is gonna comprise the entertainment portion of the evening, just, you know, hanging and enjoying one another’s company, but a beer or two later it’s much later, and the next thing I know I’m waking up…

Like this.

With my head, in Jack’s lap.  After having been out like the proverbial light, for who knows how long, probably snoring up a storm, possibly drooling. Obviously unconscious and oblivious.  Definitely snuggling. 

And him…letting me.

Which, should be…you know, weird, but it’s not. 

“I’m sorry,” I beam a sheepish grin at him. 

The fingers stroking through my hair slow, but don’t entirely still.  The large, warm hand resting on my hip gives me a reassuring pat.

“For what?” Jack says softly, his voice low, warm, mellow. Makes me feel good, kinda like a verbal caress.  Okay, I know the way that sounds but when his voice gets all warm and soft and…gooey….like it does when he says stuff to me the way he just did…

Never mind.  Where the hell was I?  Oh yeah, trying to apologize to Jack.

“I did it again.  Fell asleep on you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Why do you let me nod off like this, why didn’t you wake me up…or something?”

Not that I really want him to, I realize as soon as the words have left my mouth.  Even though he should, wake me up, I mean, so I don’t end up…on him…like this, I’m glad he doesn’t…wake me up, because, well, getting to be so close to him, like this, is kinda…nice, and I sort of, well, the first couple of times it was a bit…but now, I’m kinda getting used to…that is, I mean…

But I shouldn’t.  Shouldn’t like it, and definitely shouldn’t let him, it’s not…that is, it shouldn’t be…right.

And yet…

“It’s okay,” he soothes, his hand moving gently, describing small, slow circles on my hip.  “I don’t mind. Besides,” he adds with a small shrug.  “I like watching you sleep.”

Wow.  That’s…interesting. But somehow, also kind of nice.  And not entirely unexpected.  Which is also kind of…interesting. 

What’s also interesting, he’s not shitting me or playing with my head, he means it.  It’s funny, this should, I mean, both of us should be…you know, because this isn’t usually, well, two guys, the way we are right now, guys don’t usually, but it doesn’t feel…odd…at all.

It feels right.

And to be perfectly honest, even though I told Jack I was sorry for falling asleep on him and on him, I’m really not.  Like I said before I don’t understand why he’s been letting me do this, be so close to him, like this, but – guilty secret time, here – I’m not really sorry for doing it because, and I have no idea why, but, being with him, like this, so close, the smell of him, the warmth, the protected feeling wrapping around me when he touches me, his hands, I like to feel his hands, so strong and yet…tender, and well, I like it all, like waking up like this, to this, to him, it makes me feel…safe…and…and…

I just like it.

“Still,” I venture, not quite understanding what I’m seeing on his face, what I’m feeling as his hand gently rubs my side, but whatever it is, I’m okay with going with it, and so, evidently, is he. 

“I’ve been pretty lousy company, what with flaming out on you all the time, and all.”

“Nah,” he smiles again, giving my hip another gentle, reassuring rub.  His features soften once more, a pensive crease barely denting his brow.  The fingers in my hair ghost forward, lightly brushing the strands resting there back from my forehead. 

“You’re fine.  So is this.”

Yeah.  It is.  It’s more than fine, it’s…

There’s a quiet contentment burning in his eyes.  I look up at him, trying to understand it, this, him, and all I can come up with is… good. 

I feel good. Better than good I feel…

Right.

I can’t think of any other place I’d rather be, anyone else I’d rather be with, his touch, so calming, soothing, his eyes so…so…

Whatever this is, it’s right.

Jack feels that way too.  His eyes, so unbelievably warm and tender, his fingers, soft against my cheek, his mouth…

Oh Jack…

“Well, if you don’t mind…” I hear myself say.

“Nope,” he gently reassures me.

“As a matter of fact,” I start to tell him, not quite believing what I’m about to say…but…

It’s the truth.  And it’s the right thing to do.

“Yeah?” he encourages.  His hand, moving on me with such excruciating tenderness; making my skin tingle, making me want…

Touching me.  I like him touching me.  I want him to touch me.

I do.

“I – I kinda like it.”

The smile blooming across his face makes my heart ache.  I’ve never seen him look so…so…happy.  I could fall right into those eyes, drown in his smile, wallow like a squealing pig in the naked, honest affection he’s bathing me with.  My chest hurts I feel so good.

“You do?” he asks, his expression suddenly becoming inscrutable.

“Yeah,” I nod.  “I do.”

“That’s good.  That’s – “ 

He suddenly breaks off, swallows, lifting his head and briefly severing the eye contact we’ve been maintaining all this time.  Then he meets my gaze once more, his eyes gleaming moistly, his smile slightly wavering.

“That’s really good,” he says huskily.

Something…something’s gonna happen, I can feel it, see it in the brown eyes locked to mine.  Something, something huge, something…

Right. 

And then, it does.

Jack sighs, then without a word or a warning, leans forward, lightly pressing his lips to mine.  A gentle kiss, a sweet one, lingering, soft and wet, his warm, generous mouth moulding to mine. I gasp, opening, receiving, my head swimming with sensation. For a brief, exquisite moment we’re joined, hot sparks shooting through me straight to my toes his tongue briefly, tantalizingly tasting me before withdrawing, and then, so does he.

“What was that for?” I burble, my head still reeling.  Wonderful sensations possess me, mingling, swelling, filling me, befuddling me, contentment and excitement blazing, neither one expected or looked for, but all of it, everything currently firing my synapses, the wanting, the feeling, all the promises in those warm, wonderful lips and terribly generous hands, those dazzling eyes, none of it ever hoped for or even dreamt of but still, all of it, everything…

I want more, I want….

Him…

“It seemed like the right thing to do,” Jack calmly admits.  Then the worried crease in his brow deepens, there’s a subtle shadow of apprehension in his eyes where there was none before, and I can see him reaching for the walls, ready to put them up, if the answer he gets to the question he’s about to ask me…

“Was I wrong?” he murmurs.

“No,” I reach up, brush the fear from his face with trembling fingers before reaching for him, to pull him back, down, to me, must have more of him, of that, that mouth, those lips, making love to mine. Must have it now.

Must have him.

“You were absolutely right.”

FINIS