Within, Without [Turkey/Iceland]
Apr. 30th, 2014 09:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: Within, Without
Characters/Pairing: Turkey/Iceland
Rating: 15+
Length: 300 words
Summary: Turkey sleeps, and Iceland doesn't, and he thinks about the differences between them.
Other: Written for Vanja on tumblr. Happy birthday! (Original post is here.)
Within, Without
He likes Turkey's hands: how alive they are, the way they move when he talks. Whenever they see each other, which doesn't happen as often as Iceland would like, Turkey's hands just never stay still. They keep going, waving for emphasis or slapping him playfully on the back at a punchline.
And the hair-ruffling. Iceland complains about it every time, batting those hands away before trying to fix the mess he made, but there's no doubt about it: Turkey likes messing with his hair. And if he had to, Iceland might admit that he doesn't mind it that much. Not really.
But if he's going to mess up his hair, Iceland would rather he did it in private. It's different with them in private. Those hands are just as big and broad as always, steady, sure. They're strong, and it feels good to have them on him. Sprawled along his back or gripping at his hip or, okay, touching his hair, those thick fingers sliding through it. There's something about the way Turkey appreciates his hair, the way he sometimes grins and talks about how soft it is, like Iceland hasn't heard him say those things a hundred times before.
Right now, Turkey's hands are still. He's asleep, the huge bulk of his body curled around Iceland, one arm draped over his waist. And that's comfortable. Reassuring, even. As Iceland settles a hand on top of the one clinging to him, the difference in size feels bigger than usual, somehow. Even if he tries, spreads out his fingers, he can't cover it completely, can't swallow it up in the same way he knows that his own would be if their positions were reversed.
Silently, Iceland slides his thumb over the other man's palm and decides that he likes that, too.
Characters/Pairing: Turkey/Iceland
Rating: 15+
Length: 300 words
Summary: Turkey sleeps, and Iceland doesn't, and he thinks about the differences between them.
Other: Written for Vanja on tumblr. Happy birthday! (Original post is here.)
Within, Without
He likes Turkey's hands: how alive they are, the way they move when he talks. Whenever they see each other, which doesn't happen as often as Iceland would like, Turkey's hands just never stay still. They keep going, waving for emphasis or slapping him playfully on the back at a punchline.
And the hair-ruffling. Iceland complains about it every time, batting those hands away before trying to fix the mess he made, but there's no doubt about it: Turkey likes messing with his hair. And if he had to, Iceland might admit that he doesn't mind it that much. Not really.
But if he's going to mess up his hair, Iceland would rather he did it in private. It's different with them in private. Those hands are just as big and broad as always, steady, sure. They're strong, and it feels good to have them on him. Sprawled along his back or gripping at his hip or, okay, touching his hair, those thick fingers sliding through it. There's something about the way Turkey appreciates his hair, the way he sometimes grins and talks about how soft it is, like Iceland hasn't heard him say those things a hundred times before.
Right now, Turkey's hands are still. He's asleep, the huge bulk of his body curled around Iceland, one arm draped over his waist. And that's comfortable. Reassuring, even. As Iceland settles a hand on top of the one clinging to him, the difference in size feels bigger than usual, somehow. Even if he tries, spreads out his fingers, he can't cover it completely, can't swallow it up in the same way he knows that his own would be if their positions were reversed.
Silently, Iceland slides his thumb over the other man's palm and decides that he likes that, too.
