“Hey, babe come here.”
Timmy rolled off the sofa in the den where he’d been trying to read but was actually doing more dozing than absorbing any of the text. That was the problem with a comfy leather soft, a dark wood-paneled room and Russian tragedy. The English had a lovely way of making a room perfect for a nap.
“Yep,” he huffed as he turned the corner into the family room, which was painted a much brighter blue color and was obviously decorated by an ex sea captain. The walls, shelves, and end tables all nautical themed but comfortable. The room also contained the television and currently one sexy love of his life.
“Come look, the 2008 Snooker championship is on”
“What the fuck is snooker- is that like snogging-“ he giggled “these Europeans make a contest out of everything.”
“You’re European Tim” Armie raised an eyebrow at him “and snooker is not snogging it’s like billiards”
“Half” he shrugged and flopped down on the couch next to his love “wait...did you say 2008?”
“Yes, look Ronnie Sullivan is racking up points”
Tim pulled back, eyes wide “is that a snooker pun?” And then burst into a fit of giggles.
“Shut up and watch,” Armie chuckled and smacked him lightly with the back of his hand “these guys are amazing.”
“Nope,” Timmy twisted and draped himself across Armie’s chest, burrowing his face into the crook of Armie’s neck.
Armie’s hands immediately slid around Timmy’s tiny waist and pulled him closer, nuzzling his nose into the abundance of soft chocolate-colored curls. He closed his eyes and inhaled the warm woodsy scent of Timmy’s hair. The smell always making him feel warm and at home. Why hair should be so captivating is a mystery to him but many things about Timmy left him feeling that way.
“You know I’ll never complain about you laying on me but I can’t see the tv through your hair.”
Timmy grumbled about stupid games and dumb snooker players as he slid down Armie’s torso and ended with his head in his lap with his face pressed against Armie’s stomach.
Armie grinned, eyes full of love and affection, down at his grumpy, sleepy boy and settled back to finish his show. His hand automatically went to Timmy’s hair, letting his fingers dig deep into the thick curls to scratch at his scalp.
Only moments later Timmy’s breathing had evened out and small puffs of air were tickling Armie’s tummy where his shirt had ridden up. Armie dragged his eyes away from the activity on the screen to watch Timmy sleep. It never failed to leave him with a sense of awe that something as beautiful as Timmy existed. He was pure sunshine inside and out and for some reason, he’d chosen Armie to love. Thinking about it often made his heart stop for a beat or two.
“I love you” he whispered knowing Timmy wouldn’t hear him right now, which was fine, he’d tell him a thousand times over later.
He sat back to watch his show and thought about the Stone line ‘you can’t always get what you want but if you try sometimes you’ll get what you need’. How wonderful it was when it turns out to be the same thing.