A/N: The 5th and last chapter of Being Home is done and ready to post. After finishing it, I was still in the mood to write some more and this is the result. Pure, unadulterated fluffy fluff.
I don't own these characters or the song used.
I hope you like it!
The bright sun coming through his bedroom window wakes him up. He opens his eyes but the brightness makes him shut them closed very quickly. He turns his head to the right to look at the clock on his nightstand. 09:17. Too fucking early for a Sunday morning, so he closes his eyes again and shifts on the bed, trying to make himself a little bit more comfortable even if the body wrapped all over him makes the task be harder than usual.
His wife is an snuggler. His wife. He loves the sound of it. His wife. It has been over six months since they got married but he still grins when anyone calls Mackenzie his wife. He loves the way her legs get tangled between his own, he loves the way she likes to press her body against his side, he loves that she rests her head on his shoulder and that her hand always ends laying across his chest. He loves it even more when they end up like that wearing nothing at all. Like this morning.
Last night, Sloan took Mackenzie on a Girl's Night Out and his wife - yeah, he loves the sound of that - returned home very late, very tipsy and in a playful mood. Who was he to deny her anything, let alone when she was wearing a sexy little black dress that drove him crazy. And the pumps, don't forget the fucking pumps that make her legs look even longer.
After a first round on the couch, with their clothes still on, they moved themselves to the bedroom where they slowly undressed each other and went for round two. At the end, it was almost 5 a.m. when they finally fell asleep, that's way he doesn't understand why the hell is he up at twenty past nine.
After a few minutes trying to fall back asleep and being totally unsuccessful, he gives up before he wakes Mackenzie up. Very carefully, he disentangles his body from hers and sits up on the bed, his feet on the floor. He turns to look at his wife, who has just curled herself around his pillow, an smiles. Sometimes, he still can't believe that she's there.
He gets up and grabs his boxers from the floor before putting them on. He opens a drawer to take a pair of sweatpants and leaves the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He walks to the kitchen and turns on the coffee-maker. He puts his pants on and rummages through the fridge for something to eat. He finally settles for some fruit and cheese. Knowing that Mackenzie won't bet up any time soon, he grabs his breakfast and his freshly made coffee, turns on the TV and sits down on the couch. He watches the morning news, taking two or three mental notes for the show tomorrow, while he eats and slowly sips his drink.
He finishes rather quickly and takes everything back to the kitchen before settling down again in front of the TV. Fifteen minutes later, he's bored to death. For a moment, he thinks of waking Mackenzie up but he quickly dismisses the idea and wonders how the hell he managed to be alone before.
He prepares another coffee for himself, grabs his guitar and steps outside, to the terrace. The morning sun is warm enough for him to be comfortable. He sits on his lounge chair and lightens up a cigarette, exhaling the smoke through his nose before leaving the thin white stick resting on the ashtray. He picks up his guitar and his fingers begin to play the melody of one of his favorite songs. He doesn't sing along, he just lets the music fill his ears.
He doesn't know how long he has been there, smoking and playing, when the sliding door behind him gets open. He raises his head to look at his wife and smiles. Traces of sleep still showing in her eyes. Her hair is messy and she looks too fucking good wearing a tank top that doesn't reach the waistband of her gym shorts.
"Morning, sleepyhead." He tells her.
"Mmmm." Is her only answer. She slowly walks towards him and, after giving him a quick peck on the lips, she lays down behind him on the same chair he's currently sitting on and closes her eyes. He has to move a little to accommodate her but he doesn't mind. Then, he turns to face her.
"How's the head?" He asks.
"Still here." She groans.
"There's coffee in the kitchen."
"I'm too tired to move." She tells him.
"You're too lazy to move." He replies.
She playfully hits his arm and he laughs, leaning down to capture her lips in a deep tender kiss. "This is how you properly say good morning, Mrs. McAvoy." He teases her.
"Sorry, Mr. McAvoy. Let me remedy that."
She sits up and gently grabs his face between her hands, pulling him into another kiss. The need for air overcomes them and they detach their lips with an smile. Then, she relocates herself to sit behind him with his body between her open legs, her chest pressed to his back and her arms around his waist. She rests her chin on his shoulder and sighs deeply, hugging him tight.
"Play something for me, Billy." She sweetly says.
He grabs his guitar and rests it on his knee. He knows what song she wants him to play and he happily complies. She smiles when she hears the firsts notes coming from his fingers against the strings. Her smile widens when he begins to sing along.
"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide. I don't have much money ..."
"Yes, you have." She whispers to his ear.
"But boy if I did. I'd buy a big house where we both could live." He turns his head just enough to kiss her forehead. "If I was an sculptor, but then again no. Or a man, who makes potions in a traveling show. I know it's not much ..."
"It's enough for me."
"But it's the best I can do. My gift is my song and this one is for you."
"And you can tell everybody." He lets her sing.
"This is your song." He continues. "I know it's quite simple but now that it's done. I hope you don't mind."
"I hope you don't mind." She softly sings.
"That I put down in words." He turns to look at her and smiles once again. "How wonderful life is while you're in the world."
She presses soft kisses along his jaw, distracting him, but he tries to focus on the notes and the lyrics of the song when he continues.
"I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss. Well a few of the verses, well, they've got me quite cross. But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song. It's for people like you that keep it turned on."
"Oh, you really turn me on, Billy." She tells him in a low, sexy, sweet voice. He snorts and tries to contain his laughter.
"So excuse me forgetting but these things I do. You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue. Anyway, the thing is what I really mean. Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen. And you can tell everybody that this is your song."
"Our song." She adds.
"It may be quite simple but now that it's done. I hope you don't mind."
"I don't."
"I hope you don't mind that I put down in words."
"How wonderful life is." She sings, interrupting him. "While you're in the world."
"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words. How wonderful life is ... While you're in the world."
Once the song is over, she quietly gets up and goes around the lounge chair to stand in front of him. With a wicked smile, she takes the guitar off his hands and leaves it carefully on the floor. He opens his arms and she gladly sits on his lap. Then, she puts her hand behind his neck and pulls him into another long passionate kiss.
"I love you, Billy."
"I love you too, Mackenzie."
The End