Story: Searching for Heaven
Author: MikoAkako
Beta: None
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Suggestive tones
Pairing/Character: Bones/Jim
Word count: 464
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.
Summary: xiv. Smile. He had years of happiness to look forward to.
Smile
It was the last day of shore leave, and Jim fell into a blissfully domestic pattern. He always woke early, earlier than Bones anyway. He eased himself out of bed and walked silently out of the bedroom. Before he left, he would linger in the door way, a smile playing across his lips as he observed his husband lying on the bed, limbs cast haphazardously in all directions. He resisted the urge to go back and slid next to the sleeping man, resisted the urge to wake him up with soft but insistent kisses trailing down his abdomen to where the blanket was bunched.
He finally tore his eyes away and closed the door gently, even though he knew Bones could sleep through anything. He walked through the dark hall, not bothering to turn on any lights until he reached the kitchen. Once there, he pulled out everything he would need to make French toast, Bones' favorite breakfast and the one that Jim had tried and failed to make every morning. He was determined to get it right today.
He whistled, unable to hold a tune but refusing to let that stop him, as he cracked eggs, managing to avoid getting any shells in the mix. He managed to spill the milk all over the counter, and while he was mixing he splashed quite a bit more but he cleaned all the mess up with the quick swipe of a dish rag. When he finished, he dove right in to the bread and soaked it before putting it on the pan. He moved on to the next, and the next, forgetting about the first.
"You're burning it, hun." Jim whipped around, spraying egg-and-milk from the half soaked bread in his hand. Bones was standing in the doorway, one eye blearily wiping sleep from his eye before running it up to his hair which was sticking up at all angles. Jim stood there for a second, dripping bread in his hand and a smile lighting his face. It took a moment for his brain to register what Bones had said.
"Oh!" He turned around just as quickly, flipping the first piece that he'd put down to reveal that it was in fact black. His expression turned from joy to disappointment in a heartbeat. "Damn," He said tossing it in the trash and glancing back apologetically at Bones. "I'm sorry. I thought I'd get it right for sure this time."
"Don't worry 'bout it, darlin'," Bones walked over, standing beside Jim and placing his hand over the one that held the spatula. "It takes years of practice." Jim glanced over at Bones, subtly pressing their bodies closer. As the implication of Bones' words settled in, Jim smiled. He had years of practice to look forward to.