Five Fluffy Moments between Johnny and Stéphane
title: Five Fluffy Moments between Johnny and Stéphane
rating: G
pairing: Johnny/Stéphane
disclaimer: This is not real and it never happened. And I own absolutely nothing.
summary: Fluff. Lots of it. Written for this prompt on the wintergames kinkmeme.
author’s notes: Please be gentle with any criticism, as some of these draw on real life. Thank you.
[1]
A loud whooping sound wakes Johnny from perfect sleep.
“It’s five o’clock in the fucking morning. Who the hell is up?” Johnny mutters, low.
He carefully gets out of bed and weaves through the bedroom and the living room to the front balcony outside, where the noises are still being made. He spies a gaggle of just-turned-twenty-one youngsters, among them a few of his neighbors, getting out of a car and entering another apartment. ‘They must be getting back from a club in the city,’ Johnny muses even though he’s half asleep.
He’s also freezing on the balcony, so he goes back inside to rejoin Stéphane in bed. Stéphane shifts to accommodate him again.
Johnny’s still muttering about loud-as-fuck hooligans and goddamn it’s cold outside.
“So come under the covers with me,” Stéphane mumbles, his eyes still closed. He pulls Johnny closer until they’re spooning, wrapped up in the blankets and each other’s warmth.
[2]
Stéphane is gone. Not forever, of course. But he’s traveling, doing a show right now, and Johnny’s here in New Jersey, still training for the upcoming season.
He cleans the whole apartment from top to bottom so that he won’t wallow in his own loneliness. He finds money Stéphane dropped behind an endtable and notices that his mint ‘depsea’ facial water from Shu Uemura has gone missing for the time being. He’s sure he’ll find it once he re-organizes the bathroom closet. The cleaning keeps him busy for most of the week, but by the time he’s finished (and he still hasn’t found the water), there’s still two days before his lover returns.
The one thing Johnny hasn’t touched is the bed, and he refuses to change the sheets. Instead, he wraps himself up in the blankets and presses his nose to the fabric. He breathes in and in and in until his lungs are full and he can’t breathe in anymore so he exhales, and then takes in the scent of the fabric again. It smells like soap and the unique scent of Stéphane wrapped up all in one. He stays there with the blanket to his nose until he can’t smell it anymore, and then moves on to another part of the fabric.
An ocean away in a small hotel room, Stéphane takes out a slim glass spray bottle and spritzes his pillow before laying down to sleep. It smells like mint. Like Johnny.
[3]
“Achoo!” Stéphane reaches for another tissue to blow his nose in. His eyes are watering, his nose is stuffed, and he generally feels like crap.
Johnny speculates that he must have picked up a bug while he was in Korea (and hasn’t that happened to him before). Johnny also makes him tea with lemon and feeds him honeyed oatmeal for breakfast while he’s still in bed for most of the day.
Right now, he’s in the kitchen, making Stéphane chicken noodle soup from scratch. Stéphane feels a little bad that Johnny's doing all this for him, especially when he still has to go to practices during the day. Johnny just shrugs it off and says, “I know you, Stéphane. And if it were me, you’d do the same.” And that he completely agrees with.
Johnny brings the soup to him on a tray as he lies in bed. His arms feel like dead weight, but before he can say anything, Johnny picks up the spoon and dips it into the soup. He brings it up, holding his hand underneath to catch any drips, and blows so that it won’t be so hot to taste.
Stéphane opens his mouth as Johnny fits the spoonful of soup inside, and then swallows. “You know you are the best lover ever, yes?” he remarks.
Johnny laughs. “Yeah, I know.”
[4]
It starts out with the sky looking overcast. Johnny and Stéphane are walking in Omotesando, an upscale shopping area of Tokyo, when it begins to drizzle. Stéphane’s hair gets a little damp while Johnny’s starts to frizz up.
Johnny pulls him into the nearest Louis Vuitton boutique to buy an umbrella. “Is this so your hair doesn’t get messed up?” Stéphane asks, rolling his eyes. It’s only a drizzle, anyway.
“It’s not about the hair,” Johnny replies, scribbling his signature on a receipt. The minute they step out of the store, it begins to downpour, right on cue. He just looks at Stéphane. Johnny opens the large umbrella, ushering him to get underneath. “It’s so that I can do this,” he says, wrapping his free hand around Stéphane’s waist to hold him close as they continue their walk.
[In Japan, walking under an umbrella is romantic - couples write their names under umbrellas instead of inside hearts]
[5]
Stéphane can smell the lemongrass citronella insect repellant as they lay there in the grass, hand in hand. It’s August and they can hear a few cicadas chirping in the trees.
“I never knew you were good at stargazing,” Johnny says quietly.
He shrugs. “There are less people, less lights in Switzerland. It is easier to find the stars. Look up there,” he takes his hand away to point at the sky. “That’s you. Cygnus.”
“The Swan?” Johnny guesses. “How does that look like a Swan?”
“Like this.” Stéphane takes Johnny's hand and gently traces it against the points of light against the deep blue sky.
“I see it now.” They admire the constellation until Johnny says, “Oh! The meteor shower is starting. I just saw one.”
“I see another.” And they both watch the next meteor streak through the sky. The balls of light begin to come faster and faster until the sky is lit up with moving, glittering light. The meteor shower lasts for about an hour. A short while after it ends, Johnny says, “Staring up at the sky makes me think of the whole wide universe that’s out there, and how small we are in comparison. Does stargazing ever make you feel small and alone?”
Stéphane tilts his head to the side so that he’s looking at Johnny. “When I was a little boy, sometimes it did.”
“And now?”
“Well I have you, don’t I?” And he kisses Johnny sweetly.
-Fin-
rating: G
pairing: Johnny/Stéphane
disclaimer: This is not real and it never happened. And I own absolutely nothing.
summary: Fluff. Lots of it. Written for this prompt on the wintergames kinkmeme.
author’s notes: Please be gentle with any criticism, as some of these draw on real life. Thank you.
[1]
A loud whooping sound wakes Johnny from perfect sleep.
“It’s five o’clock in the fucking morning. Who the hell is up?” Johnny mutters, low.
He carefully gets out of bed and weaves through the bedroom and the living room to the front balcony outside, where the noises are still being made. He spies a gaggle of just-turned-twenty-one youngsters, among them a few of his neighbors, getting out of a car and entering another apartment. ‘They must be getting back from a club in the city,’ Johnny muses even though he’s half asleep.
He’s also freezing on the balcony, so he goes back inside to rejoin Stéphane in bed. Stéphane shifts to accommodate him again.
Johnny’s still muttering about loud-as-fuck hooligans and goddamn it’s cold outside.
“So come under the covers with me,” Stéphane mumbles, his eyes still closed. He pulls Johnny closer until they’re spooning, wrapped up in the blankets and each other’s warmth.
[2]
Stéphane is gone. Not forever, of course. But he’s traveling, doing a show right now, and Johnny’s here in New Jersey, still training for the upcoming season.
He cleans the whole apartment from top to bottom so that he won’t wallow in his own loneliness. He finds money Stéphane dropped behind an endtable and notices that his mint ‘depsea’ facial water from Shu Uemura has gone missing for the time being. He’s sure he’ll find it once he re-organizes the bathroom closet. The cleaning keeps him busy for most of the week, but by the time he’s finished (and he still hasn’t found the water), there’s still two days before his lover returns.
The one thing Johnny hasn’t touched is the bed, and he refuses to change the sheets. Instead, he wraps himself up in the blankets and presses his nose to the fabric. He breathes in and in and in until his lungs are full and he can’t breathe in anymore so he exhales, and then takes in the scent of the fabric again. It smells like soap and the unique scent of Stéphane wrapped up all in one. He stays there with the blanket to his nose until he can’t smell it anymore, and then moves on to another part of the fabric.
An ocean away in a small hotel room, Stéphane takes out a slim glass spray bottle and spritzes his pillow before laying down to sleep. It smells like mint. Like Johnny.
[3]
“Achoo!” Stéphane reaches for another tissue to blow his nose in. His eyes are watering, his nose is stuffed, and he generally feels like crap.
Johnny speculates that he must have picked up a bug while he was in Korea (and hasn’t that happened to him before). Johnny also makes him tea with lemon and feeds him honeyed oatmeal for breakfast while he’s still in bed for most of the day.
Right now, he’s in the kitchen, making Stéphane chicken noodle soup from scratch. Stéphane feels a little bad that Johnny's doing all this for him, especially when he still has to go to practices during the day. Johnny just shrugs it off and says, “I know you, Stéphane. And if it were me, you’d do the same.” And that he completely agrees with.
Johnny brings the soup to him on a tray as he lies in bed. His arms feel like dead weight, but before he can say anything, Johnny picks up the spoon and dips it into the soup. He brings it up, holding his hand underneath to catch any drips, and blows so that it won’t be so hot to taste.
Stéphane opens his mouth as Johnny fits the spoonful of soup inside, and then swallows. “You know you are the best lover ever, yes?” he remarks.
Johnny laughs. “Yeah, I know.”
[4]
It starts out with the sky looking overcast. Johnny and Stéphane are walking in Omotesando, an upscale shopping area of Tokyo, when it begins to drizzle. Stéphane’s hair gets a little damp while Johnny’s starts to frizz up.
Johnny pulls him into the nearest Louis Vuitton boutique to buy an umbrella. “Is this so your hair doesn’t get messed up?” Stéphane asks, rolling his eyes. It’s only a drizzle, anyway.
“It’s not about the hair,” Johnny replies, scribbling his signature on a receipt. The minute they step out of the store, it begins to downpour, right on cue. He just looks at Stéphane. Johnny opens the large umbrella, ushering him to get underneath. “It’s so that I can do this,” he says, wrapping his free hand around Stéphane’s waist to hold him close as they continue their walk.
[In Japan, walking under an umbrella is romantic - couples write their names under umbrellas instead of inside hearts]
[5]
Stéphane can smell the lemongrass citronella insect repellant as they lay there in the grass, hand in hand. It’s August and they can hear a few cicadas chirping in the trees.
“I never knew you were good at stargazing,” Johnny says quietly.
He shrugs. “There are less people, less lights in Switzerland. It is easier to find the stars. Look up there,” he takes his hand away to point at the sky. “That’s you. Cygnus.”
“The Swan?” Johnny guesses. “How does that look like a Swan?”
“Like this.” Stéphane takes Johnny's hand and gently traces it against the points of light against the deep blue sky.
“I see it now.” They admire the constellation until Johnny says, “Oh! The meteor shower is starting. I just saw one.”
“I see another.” And they both watch the next meteor streak through the sky. The balls of light begin to come faster and faster until the sky is lit up with moving, glittering light. The meteor shower lasts for about an hour. A short while after it ends, Johnny says, “Staring up at the sky makes me think of the whole wide universe that’s out there, and how small we are in comparison. Does stargazing ever make you feel small and alone?”
Stéphane tilts his head to the side so that he’s looking at Johnny. “When I was a little boy, sometimes it did.”
“And now?”
“Well I have you, don’t I?” And he kisses Johnny sweetly.
-Fin-