The Woodjin: Barnburner, by Lbilover

Written for the word of the day 'barnburner': something that is highly exciting or impressive.

the engagement
the engagement

Sean collapsed onto his back in the straw, breathing heavily. "Well, that was certainly a barnburner," he uttered faintly, sounding dazed.

Elijah giggled and propped his elbows on Sean's chest. "I'm not sure that's the best word to use under the circumstances, Sean."

"Because we have, once again, had sex in a stall like a couple of barnyard animals?"

"And threatened to set the whole barn ablaze," Elijah replied smugly. "Although," he added with a toss of his head, "I'm not a barnyard animal, but a wild one."

"Oh, you are a wild one all right." Sean threaded his fingers into Elijah's hair and unerringly found and stroked a pedicle. A shiver ran through Elijah and the sated glow in his blue eyes intensified. Post-coital pedicle play, Sean had discovered, was enjoyable, too, for both of them. Continuing the light, lazy strokes, he said, "I wonder what Sonny and Cher and Paco and Dolly make of us."

Elijah pushed his head, not needily but contentedly, into Sean's touch. "Nothing, most of the time," he said. "To them we're simply animals, and animals mate. Occasionally I overhear the equivalent of 'get yourselves a hotel room, would you?'"

Sean laughed. "And given how prickly and uncomfortable this damned straw is, I consider that sound advice."

"You weren't complaining a few minutes ago, Dr. Astin."

Sean's hand stilled and Elijah, who had rested his cheek against Sean's slowing heart, looked up. What he saw in Sean's now entirely serious eyes was a depth of love so profound, so complete, that it made his breath catch and his own heart stutter.

"Elijah, I was only joking. You know that, don't you? I would walk across broken glass and burning coals for you," Sean said.

"You already have." Elijah shifted, getting to his knees with the unselfconscious grace that characterized his every movement. He reached for Sean's right foot and lifted it. Holding it between his small hands, he fondled the faint scars left from the night Sean had rescued him and carried him piggy-back through the woods in a race against time and the Devil. "Each of these scars is sacred to me, Sean," he said in an almost reverent voice, and then he kissed them, one by one.

"Woodjin," Sean said in a choked whisper.

Elijah gently set down his foot. "No," he said, returning swiftly to Sean's embrace in a rustle of straw. "No, not Woodjin, not now. Just Elijah, your Elijah."

Sean wrapped his arms around him and held him tighter than tight. "And what am I?"

Elijah pressed a loving kiss to Sean's breast, where a courageous heart beat steadfastly - for him. "My hero," he replied.

comments powered by Disqus
0 0 0 0 2 5