a cramp in the mouth from grinning (ailcia) wrote in _ailcia_fics,
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First 'Moments' fic

Title: Breakfast.

Author: ailcia 

Rating: Not very. lol

Summary: First in the 'Moments' series of short stories... the boys have breakfast, nothing out of the ordinary. Seriously, nothing happens.

A/N: For molegirl, who wanted everyday Fry and Laurie at breakfast time! Hope you like.... and I'll get on to everyone elses' soon! Unfortunately I wrote it before finding out you wanted fluff... well, it is sort of fluffy, and a little bit of tame smut! Hope this doesn't cross the line into sheer dullness!

 

Hugh woke gently, stretching himself out across the bed as he did so, seeking another person's heat.

As his arm pushed past the swathes of duvet only to come to rest on an empty, cold pillow, he realised wth regret that Stephen was already up. After lying there for a moment or so, arm still outstretched across the big bed, Hugh eventually pulled himself up to a sitting position with a moan. He hated mornings... especially cold ones. He glared at the window, annoyed by the darkness outside, and shivered - it felt like it was the middle of the night but he knew, after a surruptious glance at the alarm clock on Stephen's bedside table - just to check - that it was in fact seven thirty-five.

Although every cell in his body urged him to just fall back into the soft, inviting bed below him, Hugh also knew he had a meeting at ten o'clock. He all but leapt out of bed - the only way he could resist the call of slumber was to put as much distance between himself and the traitorous bed as possible. Pulling a dressing gown over his mongramed pyjamas quickly before the cold stole through to his bones, he wandered into the kitchen.

Ah, yes: there was Stephen. Sitting with his back to the kitchen door, breakfast sizzling on the cooker giving off the most gorgeous smell, and finishing off one of those bastard Su Doku puzzles with a flourish. Hugh smiled at this peaceful sight and, resting his hands gently on the back of Stephen's neck, leaned around and down him to say good morning. He loved the way Stephen tasted of fresh coffee in the mornings, laced with the not-too unpleasant flavour of his first cigarette of the day. He could hardly prevent himself from deepening the kiss... but he felt a duty to himself, and the tv people he was meeting later, to remain honourable.

"Mmmm, hello you," said Stephen as Hugh pulled himself away. "With the assurance that I am certainly not complaining, may I ask what did I do to deserve that?"

"Oh, nothing," said Hugh cheerily, as he sat himself down at the other end of the table, and helped himself to the fresh coffee Stephen had made, stealing a mug off the draining board. "I just quite like you - God only knows why..." He added two cubes of sugar from the little white dish, more than he would usually have.

Stephen grinned in that lazy, off-centre way of his, and went back to his puzzle, fountain pen making pleasing scratching noises as it dashed across the newspaper.

Looking around the kitchen, Hugh noted that the lightshade above their heads needed a good clean. He made a mental note to do that later.

"There's sausages for breakfast, if you like," Stephen commented, not looking up from his 'work'. His brow was furrowed in concentration.

Hugh waved a hand, "I'm not really that hungry." Truth was that he hardly ever was at breakfast... he preferred big lunches, the sort that make you sleepy because they are so heavy. Stephen, on the other hand, like large breakfasts, and then would rarely eat anything of any substance till evening supper. It was an odd arrangement, but it worked, somehow... they never found they were unable to manage their very different eating habits.

The dark haired man opposite him nodded, as if he hadn't really been expecting another answer.

A moment passed as Hugh quietly drank his coffee and thought vaguely about the day ahead, and what he had planned. He needed to take a book back to the library... but it was right out of his way, and he couldn't really be bothered, the lazy sod that he was. He was toying with the idea of just paying the late fine and to hang with the expense, when Stephen emitted a soft noise of frustration.

Hugh grinned with amusement, "I don't know why you do those blasted things, Stephen. They are a monumental waste of time." He took a sip of coffee and watched as Stephen laid the pen and paper down, and got up, enjoying the way his tall body almost seem to unfold itself from the chair before his very eyes.

Stephen moved towards the cooker, and wielded a pair of tongs threateningly at Hugh, "Well, I wouldn't expect you to understand the fine art of logic, young Laurie." He started prodding the sausages maliciously within their pan.

"Oh, come on now, that hurts! I was rather good at maths, I'll have you know!"

Stephen snorted, and brushed a dark strand of hair out of his eyes with his forearm, "You were not, Hugh," he scolded. "You were rather good at pretending you were rather good at maths. You forget that I know you."

Hugh chuckled, and reached for the book on the counter beside the telephone. "Well, if you're going to split hairs..." he grumbled good-naturedly as he thumbed through the pages. He could almost feel Stephen rolling his eyes as the larger man returned with a plate full of three sausages - just three sausages, nothing to accompany them - and sat back down, then proceeded to tuck in.

After becoming bored with the book (which he now remembered he had read some months before), Hugh reached for his coffee cup once more. But as he was doing so, his eyes caught sight of Stephen. He had a whole sausage, skewered by the fork, held tantalizingly close to his mouth, but forgotten about. The mouth in question was slightly parted as he mentally grappled once more with the Su Doku game. He licked his lips in concentration.

Hugh could not take his eyes of him. Or the sausage.

"Stephen!" he cried, surprised by how loud and high-pitched his voice had become.

Stephen looked up with alarm, dark brows drawn down in confusion, sausage still apparent, "Yes? What, Hugh?" 

Hugh blushed at once, and gave Stephen his impression of a floundering goldfish, mouth opening and shutting without a sound. Eventually, he pulled himself together enough to indicate the offending sausage with an accusatory finger, and stammered, "I-I... it's just... I have a meeting!" He blurted this last part out.

The other man looked as though he were worried for Hugh's mental stability for a moment. Then, Stephen's eyes followed the direction of Hugh's gaze to the sausage, and suddenly his face took on an almost evil quality. A light glinted with eagerness in his eyes and he pulled a face at Hugh, lips down turning and chin moving inwards, fixing him with and admonishing stare.

Slowly, deliciously, he raised the sausage closer to him, eyes not once leaving Hugh's. As it reached his mouth, he breathed in the aroma with relish, and moaned a little, delighting in the little chirrup from Hugh as a response to this spectacle. Ever so slowly, taking his time and loving every minute of it, Stephen opened his mouth further and further, eyes still goadng Hugh's. He inserted the sausage at last, and bit down. Hugh wimpered and he grinned.

Hugh stumbled upright from his seat, as quickly as he were able, and all but launched himself at Stephen, pulling at his clothes. Insistent fingers trying to poke and prod him in the direction of the bedroom. "But Hugh," Stephen mock-protested, laughing loudly, "I thought you had a meeting?"

"Oh, bugger the meeting!" Hugh cried, ginning widely as he finally got an unprotesting Stephen into the bedroom.

The End.

A/N: Please let me know what you think, you lot!

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