Feb. 9th, 2010 07:55 pm
Drabble-Month: Day #9
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lovely_ambitionEven the largest suites in London aren’t going to have enough beds, but Sean hadn’t exactly expected the whole crew to roll in the cot-on-wheels and give him a Look that said it wasn’t even a question as to who was sleeping on it.
“I need my privacy,” had been Mickey’s even-keeled defense as he rolls up his cuffs and claims a room.
Emma just shoots him a look. “We’re not kids anymore, Sean, we’re not sharing the bed,” and claims the other.
He doesn’t even want to protest when Albie merely hems and haws and claims the third.
Which leaves just him and Ash staring at the wheels of the cot. “C’mon,” Sean begs. It’s not like it’s the streets, but it’s not the most glamorous thing in the world and he’s seen inside all the private suites. They’re huge beds and private baths each. “Ash, please!”
“Seniority,” is all he says before claiming the last.
And at first, sure, Sean paid his dues and slept on the damn wheelie-cot. He put in his time and thought about the down-pillows that everyone else got to bed their heads on. He thought about high-count sheets and tried not to think about how Eddie was probably sleeping on a better mattress than he had.
On day ten, Sean decides that’s enough. He’s awake at two in the AM and grabs his pillow in hand. He doesn’t go for Emma’s door because she’d probably just boot his arse back to the cot. Mickey and Albie? No way, uh uh, not happening. Instead, he finds himself at Ash’s door with pillow in hand, standing in the doorway and casting a shadow in the moonlight.
Ash is barely asleep if his still-smoldering cigarette is an indication and Sean takes another step in, trying to still his beating heart. This is probably a mistake. It’s not like he’s absolutely compelled by a hero crush or anything. Not at all. Really. That’d be insane. Still, as he curls up on the other half of the king bed, he wonders if Ash could just make like a bad romantic movie on the television and bring him in close and tell him that he’s been waiting for him.
In response, he gets a snore.
Sean just lets out a laugh and settles on his back, hands folded on his chest as he imagines all the ways this morning after is going to go.
“I need my privacy,” had been Mickey’s even-keeled defense as he rolls up his cuffs and claims a room.
Emma just shoots him a look. “We’re not kids anymore, Sean, we’re not sharing the bed,” and claims the other.
He doesn’t even want to protest when Albie merely hems and haws and claims the third.
Which leaves just him and Ash staring at the wheels of the cot. “C’mon,” Sean begs. It’s not like it’s the streets, but it’s not the most glamorous thing in the world and he’s seen inside all the private suites. They’re huge beds and private baths each. “Ash, please!”
“Seniority,” is all he says before claiming the last.
And at first, sure, Sean paid his dues and slept on the damn wheelie-cot. He put in his time and thought about the down-pillows that everyone else got to bed their heads on. He thought about high-count sheets and tried not to think about how Eddie was probably sleeping on a better mattress than he had.
On day ten, Sean decides that’s enough. He’s awake at two in the AM and grabs his pillow in hand. He doesn’t go for Emma’s door because she’d probably just boot his arse back to the cot. Mickey and Albie? No way, uh uh, not happening. Instead, he finds himself at Ash’s door with pillow in hand, standing in the doorway and casting a shadow in the moonlight.
Ash is barely asleep if his still-smoldering cigarette is an indication and Sean takes another step in, trying to still his beating heart. This is probably a mistake. It’s not like he’s absolutely compelled by a hero crush or anything. Not at all. Really. That’d be insane. Still, as he curls up on the other half of the king bed, he wonders if Ash could just make like a bad romantic movie on the television and bring him in close and tell him that he’s been waiting for him.
In response, he gets a snore.
Sean just lets out a laugh and settles on his back, hands folded on his chest as he imagines all the ways this morning after is going to go.
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