Disclaimer: I don't own the Wiggles.
Pairing: Murray/Jeff
Summary: On a marvelous day, Jeff forgets to breath.
Breath
Breathing, of course, is nessicary, for life. As such, it's simply and instinct human- and all other living things- are born with. It's more then common sence. If one knows nothing else, one knows how to breath.
Which explains why it startled Jeff then first time he forgot to breath.
It was a good day. Not particularly different then any other day- they were going through the same motions, the same patterns they generally went through, with Gregs attempts to extract his elusive rabbit from that (thoroughly ridiculas) hat, Anthony trying to distract him at all costs, and Murray and Jeff deciding the world really wasn't worth living in, at the moment. But, still, it was a good day.
Jeff mused on this, as he lay beside Murray, in their patch of Nowhere. This day, though it was only one o`clock, was simply a marvelous day, for no particular reason. He felt very good, also for no particular reason. The sky and clouds seemed prettier- though his brain knew they looked no different today to yesterday then they had looked yesterday to the day before- the grass seemed softer, and the air smelled fresher. Even what he'd seen of the Great Rabbit Hunt had seemed more endearing, as had Gregs cluelessness as to what Anthony actually wanted (which wasn't much, really, he just wanted to bug him)- he was apparently still running on the assumption the blue Wiggle didn't know exactly how obnoxious he seemed.
"Say, Jeff?" Murray suddenly said. The other man had been expecting some random, irrelevant epiphany to take shape, soon, and Murray knew it. "What do you suppose it would feel like to stand inside a cloud?"
"Wet," Jeff told him. "Probably cold, too. There's rain inside clouds."
"Snow, sometimes, too," Murray replied. "And hail."
Jeff nearly flinched, but settled on pouting. Murray knew quite well how he felt about that, having ended up stranded under a tree, in the middle of a hailstorm once, several years ago.
"I suppose so," he said. Fabulous- now his good mood was fading.
Murray, suddenly realizing what he'd just said, blushed faintly.
"Oh, dear," he murmered. "Jeff, I'm sorry. I wasn't really thinking."
"Yes, you were," Jeff replied. "You were just thinking a bit too deeply, is all."
"I'm still sorry," Murray turned over on his side, to get a better look at his counter-part, and frowned when he saw he was till sulking, noticably.
"I'm going to take a nap," Jeff told him, after a moment.
"Okay,"
Almost immediatly, his soft snored filled the air. If Jeff had thought about it, for a moment, he would have realized exactly how unkind this was. He wasn't using unconsiousness because he was mad at Murray- he was merely sleeping off the bad memories suddenly over-running his head. Murray, however, was now left alone, with his fretting.
Murray sighed, and, in an attempt to comfort himself, he scooted closer to Jeff, and slipped his arms around him. He was immensly thankful for Jeffs ability to slip into the very deepest sleep almost immediatly, because the smaller Wiggle snuggled closer to him. Suddenly very comfortable, and rather sleepy, as well, Murray closed his eyes, and joined Jeff in sleep.
It was nearly two-thirty when Jeff woke, completely consious in seconds, and found himself still snuggled into Murrays embrace. Somewhat bewildered, at first, he looked up, and promptly went into and advanced state of shock.
The sun was at just the right angle to catch Murrays hair, and eyelashes so they shone nearly gold. His skin was glowing, in the light, and his lips were turned up, in an expression of pure contentment. The only thought that went through his head was 'ing?' In this case, the multi-purpose word was roughly translated to 'has he always been that beautifal, or am I an unobservant idiot?'
As if sencing his thoughts, and wanting to put a stop to them before they progressed to further ponderings on if /all/ of him were quite so beautifal, Murray shifted, slightly, and his eyes opened.
"Jeff?" he asked. His drew back, looking alarmed. "Jeff, dear, are you breathing?"
As it turned out, he wasn't.
The End
Pairing: Murray/Jeff
Summary: On a marvelous day, Jeff forgets to breath.
Breath
Breathing, of course, is nessicary, for life. As such, it's simply and instinct human- and all other living things- are born with. It's more then common sence. If one knows nothing else, one knows how to breath.
Which explains why it startled Jeff then first time he forgot to breath.
It was a good day. Not particularly different then any other day- they were going through the same motions, the same patterns they generally went through, with Gregs attempts to extract his elusive rabbit from that (thoroughly ridiculas) hat, Anthony trying to distract him at all costs, and Murray and Jeff deciding the world really wasn't worth living in, at the moment. But, still, it was a good day.
Jeff mused on this, as he lay beside Murray, in their patch of Nowhere. This day, though it was only one o`clock, was simply a marvelous day, for no particular reason. He felt very good, also for no particular reason. The sky and clouds seemed prettier- though his brain knew they looked no different today to yesterday then they had looked yesterday to the day before- the grass seemed softer, and the air smelled fresher. Even what he'd seen of the Great Rabbit Hunt had seemed more endearing, as had Gregs cluelessness as to what Anthony actually wanted (which wasn't much, really, he just wanted to bug him)- he was apparently still running on the assumption the blue Wiggle didn't know exactly how obnoxious he seemed.
"Say, Jeff?" Murray suddenly said. The other man had been expecting some random, irrelevant epiphany to take shape, soon, and Murray knew it. "What do you suppose it would feel like to stand inside a cloud?"
"Wet," Jeff told him. "Probably cold, too. There's rain inside clouds."
"Snow, sometimes, too," Murray replied. "And hail."
Jeff nearly flinched, but settled on pouting. Murray knew quite well how he felt about that, having ended up stranded under a tree, in the middle of a hailstorm once, several years ago.
"I suppose so," he said. Fabulous- now his good mood was fading.
Murray, suddenly realizing what he'd just said, blushed faintly.
"Oh, dear," he murmered. "Jeff, I'm sorry. I wasn't really thinking."
"Yes, you were," Jeff replied. "You were just thinking a bit too deeply, is all."
"I'm still sorry," Murray turned over on his side, to get a better look at his counter-part, and frowned when he saw he was till sulking, noticably.
"I'm going to take a nap," Jeff told him, after a moment.
"Okay,"
Almost immediatly, his soft snored filled the air. If Jeff had thought about it, for a moment, he would have realized exactly how unkind this was. He wasn't using unconsiousness because he was mad at Murray- he was merely sleeping off the bad memories suddenly over-running his head. Murray, however, was now left alone, with his fretting.
Murray sighed, and, in an attempt to comfort himself, he scooted closer to Jeff, and slipped his arms around him. He was immensly thankful for Jeffs ability to slip into the very deepest sleep almost immediatly, because the smaller Wiggle snuggled closer to him. Suddenly very comfortable, and rather sleepy, as well, Murray closed his eyes, and joined Jeff in sleep.
It was nearly two-thirty when Jeff woke, completely consious in seconds, and found himself still snuggled into Murrays embrace. Somewhat bewildered, at first, he looked up, and promptly went into and advanced state of shock.
The sun was at just the right angle to catch Murrays hair, and eyelashes so they shone nearly gold. His skin was glowing, in the light, and his lips were turned up, in an expression of pure contentment. The only thought that went through his head was 'ing?' In this case, the multi-purpose word was roughly translated to 'has he always been that beautifal, or am I an unobservant idiot?'
As if sencing his thoughts, and wanting to put a stop to them before they progressed to further ponderings on if /all/ of him were quite so beautifal, Murray shifted, slightly, and his eyes opened.
"Jeff?" he asked. His drew back, looking alarmed. "Jeff, dear, are you breathing?"
As it turned out, he wasn't.
The End
