#ashfilledwords

[leavesandroses]

(This is the stupid stuff I think about while watching other shows and doing chores...)

Jean leaned forward on the sofa, intently watching the scene.  He and Marco were a season and a half into an Orphan Black marathon, part of his boyfriend's pop culture/entertainment education (Jean had declared it unacceptable that Marco was so out of the loop).  He let out a breath when the episode ended, growling at the cliffhanger.  "Can you believe that?" he asked, gesturing at the screen.

No response came from next to him.  He turned to look, eyebrows pressed together.  Marco was staring at the screen, but not really seeing it.  Jean held his hand up in front of his boyfriend's face, snapping his fingers.  Marco blinked a few times and gave him a small embarrassed smile.  

"Did you say something, Jean?" Marco asked, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

"I asked what you thought about the end of the episode, but I see you weren't paying attention.  What in the world were you thinking about?" Jean prodded, slipping an arm around him.  Marco was quiet for a few moments.  When Jean looked up, his smile was... well, the same one Marco normally wore when he pulled them into the bedroom.  Jean tilted his head and nudged Marco's leg with his knee.  "Spill."

Marco chuckled and wet his lips, "Well, I was just imagining what it would be like to have clones of... you."

Jean's mouth dropped open.  When he regained his ability to speak, he choked out one word, "Bedroom."

[leavesandroses]

The brunette reached out, intending to wake the other man. His breath hissed in – overly loud in his ears – as he got a closer look at the sleeping face. There was the tiniest of smiles – delicate and sweet – on Jean’s lips. Two days’ worth of dark blonde stubble dusted the angular lines of his cheeks and jaw, which ticked almost imperceptibly. Marco wondered how many people, if any, ever got to see Jean like this. Vulnerable. No walls protecting him. Dreaming of something that made him happier than he normally appeared when awake.

Small tease from Chapter 4 of 'Whoopsidaisies' by me

Get caught up before over on AO3 before the next chapter goes up very soon.

[leavesandroses]

Ten minutes. He managed to last that long before the magazine was open on the table. Even that wait was mainly because he was afraid of spilling food on it. The scribbled note was still there, though it seemed unbelievable. Marco threaded a hand into his mop of dark brown hair and leaned heavily on it as he looked over the article.

From Chapter 3... 1500-ish words done.  I'm gonna go work on it now...

[leavesandroses]

Happiness

For hdotk - Happy Jean for your birthday.

Bright sunlight streamed into the quiet room through an oversized picture window, long rays reaching the figures entwined on an overstuffed love seat.  A messy head of blonde hair bent over a sketchbook, focused intently on a detailed sketch.  The pencil carefully traced features he had long since memorized: a small dimple, each freckle, and the long eyelashes.  He smiled softly and chewed on his bottom lip.  Even though the sketchbook was full of similar drawings, each new one was a favorite.

Jean looked up as the sound of a soft sigh broke the silence.  The warmest brown eyes were looking at him instead of an open book laying on top of their entangled legs.  “Can I see?” Marco whispered.

“’s not done yet,” Jean replied, smiling warmly as Marco nodded in understanding.  The brunette’s gaze returned to the book, content to let Jean work.  Jean’s eyes dropped to the page, a good ache filling his chest.  He scribbled the word “Happiness” along the bottom of the page and closed the book before setting it on the floor.  Shifting his weight, he leaned in closer to Marco, not saying a word.

The other man turned his head, curious, and started to say his name, but Jean quieted him with a single touch to Marco’s lips.  Moving his hand away, he brushed the corner of the confused smile with the briefest of kisses.  Next, a soft kiss to the side of his throat, mouth lingering as Marco’s pulse quickened and breathing hitched.  Finally, a kiss to the arched brow over the eyes that were full of love.

Jean touched their foreheads together, eyes closed, waiting several long seconds.  “Tu es mon Bonheur,” he breathed as his eyes fluttered open.  Book forgotten, Marco’s fingers laced up through the darker hair at the base of Jean’s skull, scratching gently into his scalp and drawing out a contented sigh.  Their noses grazed against each other, Marco nuzzling him before meeting his lips with a quick kiss.

“And you are mine.”

A little whimper drifted up from between them, drawing their eyes down.  Soft black hair dusted the top of a tiny head sleeping against the curve of Marco’s chest.  Jean dipped his head, drawing in the scent of baby powder that lingered on her skin.  He repeated the French in a whisper against her hair, running a hand over the baby’s back to quiet her restlessness.  Marco’s arm draped around him, molding Jean to his side.  The family sat in happy silence, watching the sun drift slowly down the sky. (On AO3 as well)