@penflicks wanted some soft John/Maureen taking care of each other fic and this is what happened. I hope you like it!! Set mid/late season, after the Tar Pit.
John had been injured again. It wasn’t too bad, Judy had seen to that, but Maureen was still concerned.
They still didn’t know everything about the planet they were on. Even if the air was fine, even if they could eat some of the plant life, there were still unknown variables. Untreated wounds could get infected no matter where you were.
“I’m fine,” John insisted. But he didn’t move away from her as she stepped into the room, crossing it in long strides to examine him. “It’s just a scratch.”
Maureen dabbed again and raised an eyebrow at him. “And how did you get that cut?”
He paused, hesitated and looked down. “…by falling out of a tree.”
“And why were you up a tree?”
John sighed heavily, acting put upon, before reaching behind himself and producing a small succulent-like plant. “Getting you this.”
She grinned, her mind already working on the possible similarities between this plant and those back on Earth. There were tests forming in her mind in quick succession and she left the cleaning of John’s cut for a moment to take the plant and put it over on the desk.
“I knew you’d like it,” John said softly behind her. He rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. “That’s why I climbed the damned tree.”
She turned in his arms and kissed his non-injured cheek. “Thank you, John,” she said softly. “Really. But you fell out of a tree.”
“And Judy checked me over. I’m fine. It really is just a scratch,” he reassured her with a roguishly handsome smile.
“Still…” She took his chin in her hand and turned his cheek towards her. Maureen trusted Judy, her daughter was a great doctor and would no doubt only improve with time and practiced, but this was her husband that was hurt. No matter how superficial the damaged, she had to know it was alright.
John seemed to sense that, his gaze softening and his body relaxing as she reached for the disinfectant and cotton swabs. “That stuff stings like hell,” he mumbled, even as he leaned against the counter and let her stand between his thighs.
“Yes, but it’ll keep you from getting an unknown infection.”
“Can’t argue with that…”
Maureen smiled. “Don’t even try.”
John laughed, that boyish grin returning and it was like falling in love all over again. She remembered a time when they were young and falling for one another for the first time, John leaning against a wall with a split lip and a bag of frozen peas against his cheek. “You should’ve seen the other guy,” he’d said, grinning and wincing as his lip started to bleed again, “he’s nowhere near as bad as this.”
Maureen had berated him, given him a tongue-lashing to set him back to rights before tending to his wounds as gently as she was now.
The contact between the disinfectant and John’s cut made him hiss but he didn’t shrink away. He put his hands on her hips and stroked the jut of her hip bones with his thumbs. When she moved a fraction closer, resting their lower halves together, he hummed in satisfaction and closed his eyes. Maureen continued to dab at the cut until she was satisfied it was clean. It didn’t need stitches, and it wouldn’t leave a scar, but the knowledge it was clean helped ease the anxiety that had been nestled between her breasts since Penny had told her what’d happened.
“There,” she said at last, “all done. You big brave boy…” She kissed his cheek, lingering to rub their noses together.
John sighed happily under his breath and ran his hands up her back. “Thank you.”
“Just… be careful out there, okay? If anything happened to you, I couldn’t-”
He hushed her gently, reaching up to take her face in his hands and make their eyes meet. “Hey, hey it’s alright. I’ll be more careful, I promise. No more climbing trees.”
She laughed, voice thick with emotion, before nodding. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Maureen Robinson, you can hold me to whatever you want.”
Tag: aww this is cute
FlintHamilton Appreciation Week day 6: a little thing
“You’re fiddling again.”
James hummed questioningly, not looking up from his book as he twirled the ring on his finger. They’re both laying in bed, naked as new born babes, and Thomas had let James lounge on his chest.
“You’re fiddling with your ring,” Thomas said softly as he wrapped his arms around James’ chest. “You do that when something troubling happens. What is it?”
“The Tale of the Tub,” James murmured. “It’s rather… evocative.”
“You mean it makes most of my peers slam their boots on the floor in distaste?”
“Exactly.”
Thomas laughed and kissed his lover’s cheek. “Let them stomp. Is it any good? I’ve not gotten round to reading it yet…”
James hummed and leaned further back against him, moving one hand up to idly run his fingers through Thomas’ hair. Thomas made a pleased sound. “It’s not too terrible. A little much but… not bad.”
He lapsed into silence and Thomas stroked his hands up and down James’ sides. James moaned softly and continued to read. They lay quietly together for a while until James broke the silence.
“You’re fidgeting again,” James mumbled.
“No I’m not! And you can’t even see me!”
“I’m not looking but I can feel it. You’ve got your finger on your lip again,” James looked up and he was right. Thomas laughed, drawing his hand from his mouth and put it on James’ cheek.
“You know me so well.”
“I know. And you know me.”
11. “Same time tomorrow?” + Flinthamilton pleeeaase!
James had found it difficult to tear his gaze away from Thomas from the day they met but it was even harder since Thomas had started teaching him Spanish.
Thomas insisted on going to his place to teach him and insisted he couldn’t teach unless he was relaxed and comfortable.
Relaxed and comfortable apparently meant removing his outer layer and lying on James’s bed with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, black trousers making his legs look longer, bare feet sometimes nudging against James’s thigh.
James knew he was getting better at Spanish – he and Thomas spoke mostly Spanish now and the language flowed off his tongue but when Thomas smiled and started reading Don Quixote from where they’d left it last time James just gazed at him. Watching the sun rays illuminate the gold in his hair and the way his eyes creased up when he was happy and…
“James?” Thomas prompted, softly.
“I, what?” James realised Thomas was looking at him.
“Are you tired?” Thomas asked, softly, “You were staring into space and haven’t been taking in a word.”
“Actually I was staring at you and not taking in a word,” James admitted, “My apologies. What were you saying?”
Thomas smiled and James felt himself being tugged closer. It didn’t matter how many times Thomas had kissed him now, his mind went blank every time.
“Same time tomorrow?” Thomas asked as they broke apart.
“For our lesson or you kissing me?” James asked, softly, “Because if it’s the latter I do not see why it has to end at all.”
Thomas gave him one of those looks, a look that was amused and affectionate and loving and fond and a million other things all at once, a look that James had often wondered if he invented because he’d never been looked at the way Thomas looked at him before.
“I agree,” Thomas said, softly and then those hands were in his hair and he was being kissed again.
Meg's Mumbles 