[For Bobby] The reality of the situation [Early March]

[prodigalflame]

John was in what he personally called the library, the long L-shaped room that curved around the front of the house to the side where the main entrance was. It was one of the reasons he'd bought the place: between the library and the little study, the house was full of more shelves and crooks and spaces for books than he frankly knew what to do with.

For all the (unfortunately 1990s) renovations that modernised the kitchen and the bathrooms, this part of the house still smelt musty. Old. Like paper. Like books. And being the academic he was trying to be, the afternoon found John sitting on one of the window seats, book propped open against his raised knees, all but wedged in the window frame. There was a stack of books next to him on the carpet. From time to time he added little sticky flags or took notes on a notepad. He'd managed to get all his marking done for the week, but narrowing down his dissertation topic was still slightly out of his reach.

And for all that, he glanced every so often out the wrought iron setting of the large window, peering to see if his boyfriend was home yet. They needed to have a talk.

Comments

[cold_blueeyes]

While there were definitely things they needed to talk about, now was clearly not the time to do that. John was busy, and Bobby now had homework of his own to do, of a sort. "Yeah, definitely," he promised with a little smile, giving him a slow, lingering kiss that underlined that promise before pulling away and getting to his feet with a wistful little sigh. "Okay, work. Are you hungry? Do you want me to bring you a plate?"

[prodigalflame]

John felt the sigh within himself, leaning just a little after that kiss, but paused, licked his lips, and looked down at his books. God, they definitely seemed even more unappealing now. "Nah, I'm fine. Had a sandwich, mid-afternoon." He reached to grab Bobby's hand, though, and brushed his lips over those fingers, a promise of his own. It was almost becoming his own gallant little signature, anyway; that or a hand on his boyfriend's ass. (Okay, that was decidedly less gallant.) "I'd love a coffee, though." And God knew Bobby was way better with the machine than John could ever be.

And he could use the caffeine: he really had to crack this thing tonight. He had a meeting with his supervisor the following day and it would not go well if he had nothing to show. The irony of Bobby getting his visa extended while John got kicked out of his programme suddenly loomed large. Something to avoid, he thought, and sorted through the pile to pick up a particular tome.

[cold_blueeyes]

"You got it." Bobby flashed him a smile and headed to the kitchen to start the coffeemaker, grabbing his backpack as he went so he could pull his laptop out and get started looking into the visa thing while it brewed.