Hm, I think I have to declare, that Horatio isn't mine and will never be. He belongs to J.B. The idea for this story is mine though. I don't want to earn money with it.
Kissed by the sun
"Horatio, you're bugging me."
"Why, sweetheart, aren't you happy to have me by your side?" The man's incredible blue eyes looked innocent and a little bit hurt.
"Ha, the problem is, you shouldn't be here. Don't you have work to do in Miami, solve cases, collect evidence, something like that? It's a nice place I've heard. I've never been there, myself.
Horatio, tilting his head, gives me an impish grin. "I like to be here, it's more fun." Charming me with his boyish behaviour, he surprises me with the next sentence. "Actually, I'm tired and my shoulders are stiff, could you give me a massage?" Looking into that hopeful face, my resistance melts. Who am I, to be able to say no to this request?
"Okay", I give in, "Take off your jacket, your shirt and the shoes, and lie down on the couch," I command the tired Lieutenant. With a cheery sigh, he lays down on the sofa, putting his head and his arms onto my striped cushion. Thoughtfully I look at the man, who is stripped to his waist, now. "I still have some attar of roses in my bathroom, that'll do," I mumble. Preparing my hands with the oil, I'm glad, that they are always warm or else my red-haired hero would jump when I touched him. When I start to massage the stiff shoulders, Horatio gives me a satisfied groan. "Hmm, that's good. Your hands are so nice and soft," he murmurs into the cushion.
Suddenly I don't care, that Horatio shouldn't be here, that he has a job to do. If he wants to be with me, instead of working in the sunny, but dangerous Miami, then it has to be so. And, he needed a break. Really. He's always watching, going after 'bad guys' and criminals; must shoot one or two of them in a week – he has to be uptight! I understand that completely.
I sense the knots in Horatio's back, slowly trying to straighten them out with my fingers, whilst I gaze in wonder at the thousands of freckles scattered on his shoulders. 'Kissed by the sun', is we call people with freckles, I find that very poetic and I like these little dots very much.
Joyfully sighing now and then, Horatio enjoys the massage. From time to time, he jerks a bit, when I find a hard spot in his muscles. Slowly, he unbends, his breathing becoming deeper and deeper. The atmosphere in my living room is serenely soothing. I'm no longer peeved by the man's presence, but enjoying it. To give a massage is relaxing for me, too.
I wonder how Horatio could find my place. How could he be here so fast, coming from the far Miami into my little German town? How did he get my address? Never mind, he must have been aware that I have wanted him to be with me. He's known for his sensitivity!
Just, when I start to chill out and become lost in thought, looking at this nice, handsome, red-headed man on my sofa, when I start to think that I could do more with this man, than just to give him a massage - a cell phone rings. His cell phone!
With a heavy sigh, Horatio picks up his jacket and gropes for the phone. "What? Where is it? Did you say, a little boy? Give me 20 minutes!" Slowly he buttons his shirt, a little sad smile on his face. "I have to go. It was nice, to be with you; may I come back again another day?" He hugs me and with a soft-spoken "Good bye", he breathes a kiss on my cheek.
"Take care, Horatio," I whisper, and close my eyes to feel his embrace. Then, he is gone, as fast as he appeared.
"Horatio, you're bugging me," I murmur, into my suddenly awful, empty living room." I don't agree with your appearing and disappearing at your discretion. Next time I'll have to clarify that with you."
Then, remembering the hurt look, I know that when I want to talk to him in earnest, I'll have to blindfold him first. I could never defend my point of view when Horatio's eyes have this puppy dog expression.