Work Text:
Noun
osculation (plural osculations)
the action of kissing.
a kiss.
a close contact.
(mathematics) a contact between curves or surfaces, at which point they have a common tangent.
The worst thing about being a writer is the travelling. If there was any justice in the world, the people who want to hear Rodney talk would come to him, not the other way round. With a decent loudspeaker system he could hold lectures from his balcony and never even have to leave the apartment.
He closes his eyes for a moment and imagines hordes of fans making pilgrimages to Sacramento and hanging on to his every word of wisdom. This has been a favourite fantasy of his during the past two weeks. He tried to discuss the matter with Laura, but she just gave him one of her looks and asked, "And where are they all supposed to stay? At your place?"
Laura clearly doesn't appreciate Rodney's brilliance the way she should. Then again, that's probably why she is such a good assistant.
Rodney has to admit to himself that the tour wouldn't have been quite so bad if John had been able to come with him. But something had come up at the Youth Centre at the last minute that apparently needed John's attention more than Rodney. It's possible they might have had a little fight about it before Rodney left. It's also possible that he might be feeling a little bad about it. In fact, Rodney has spent the past two weeks thinking about how he's going to make it up to John – this has been his second favourite fantasy.
As he enters the apartment, he's half hoping that John will come meet him at the door, push him up against the wall and kiss the living daylights out of him. It's been known to happen in the past and Rodney has absolutely no objections to such a greeting.
There is, however, no John in sight. The only welcome committee is Newton, who comes sauntering out to rub himself against Rodney's legs. Rodney picks him up and scratches his ears. "Hello, I missed you too. Now where did you hide my boyfriend?"
Newton mewls in response, but Rodney isn't fluent in Cat and only understands basic phrases like "Feed me!" or "Pet me!" or "But I like sleeping on your keyboard!"
"You're not being very helpful, do you know that?" he says and puts the cat down on the floor again and goes in search of clues as to where John might be.
There's food in the fridge and fresh water in Newton's dish so John has obviously been in the apartment today. Problem is, he isn't here now, and Rodney doesn't know where else he could be. It's six o'clock in the evening and John only works half-days at the Youth Centre, so he should be home by now. Unless he went back to his own apartment. But he knew Rodney would be coming home today. He couldn't possibly still be mad, could he?
There is no John in the bedroom either, but John must have been sleeping here since the bed is made in that tight military style of his. He wouldn't have stayed here if he were still angry, would he? Maybe he just went out for a walk or something. He'll probably be back at any moment.
Rodney sits down on the bed and toes off his shoes. He's spent most of the day on a plane and the woman sitting next to him was completely oblivious to his hints that he was not the least bit interested in seeing pictures of her grandchildren. When she learned that Rodney was a writer, she immediately started talking about her favourite author, which happened to be Jackie Collins. Rodney's certain he could hear Laura laughing at him from behind her magazine.
Maybe he'll just lie down for a couple of minutes. When John comes back, Rodney will hear him. He closes his eyes….
… and wakes up again to another presence in the room, someone's breath ghosting over his face. "Newton," he mutters without opening his eyes. "If you so much as think about stepping on me, there will be Cat Kabob in your future."
"Don't threaten the cat, Rodney," John says with laughter in his voice. "He's been the only company I've had these past few weeks."
"Oh." Rodney opens his eyes, blinking groggily. John is standing over him, hands planted on either side of his head, close enough that Rodney can feel the heat of his body and the scent of his skin. "Hello."
"Welcome home." John leans in and kisses him and it's like tasting pure sunshine, warm and mellow and sweet. There's also a little hint of bad coffee. "I missed you."
Rodney shifts a little on the bed so he can get a better view of John, still in his work-clothes, looking a little bit tired and a lot happy and his smile… Rodney 's sure that he would be willing to do pretty much anything to keep that smile on John's face permanently.
"Missed you too," he says, and if it's possible, John's smile becomes even wider as his mouth finds Rodney's again. Rodney never knew that anything could feel so right or so perfect; that is was possible to fit together with another person like you were created with each other in mind. That was until he met John.
For a few long minutes, Rodney's entire world consists of John alone; the way he tastes, the way he smells, the curve of his lips, the plane of his stomach against Rodney's. He wants to stay here like this until the universe ends, tightly wrapped in everything that is John. Oxygen is overrated anyway.
"Sorry I'm late," John says when they eventually have to break apart. "I had to take one of the kids to the ER. Skateboard accident. He's fine, but it took a while to get hold of his parents."
Rodney pulls him down again with a hand buried in his unruly hair. "It's okay. Kiss me some more."
John does and Rodney sighs contentedly. It's good to be home.
- fin -