the-unstoppable-warrior-liam

     Running hands over the man’s chest, a soothing coo echoes from the back of his throat. Everything that he had ever come to know about the man had simply made his job as his boyfriend a little easier. Comforting him after these kind of nights, kissing about the terror in his chest or in his hand made him feel like a healer of some sort. “I missed you too, honeybee” Fingers trace the lines of his jaw, pressing softly at pressured wrinkled along the top of his head and just underneath his eyes. Sleepy Liam was his favorite thing in the world, even though he would say that about every other thing his fiance did or said. Watching his eyes lid and then open, the thickness in his voice, the slow movements of his hands and arms and lips; it was far too breathtaking for him to handle. Kissing his cheek softly, he pulls him closer, almost as if he were trying to completely melt their bodies together. “wanna talk about it?” He asks, keeping his kisses soft against his neck in hopes of lulling him back to sleep.

     Coming home to his door unlocked, and the lights in his kitchen on, his stomach drops. He had spent the weekend in Houston with his intern, had attended meetings and conferences with NASA about not only his research but his experience in space. And as much as his mind had been focused on work, his heart had been yearning to cuddle up to his fiance at the end of the night. However Liam had been distant, it was nothing new or concerning to him, and as much as he worried, he knew that leaving him to his own devices until he came to him was their best option. The astronaut didn’t like it. He didn’t like that his fiance was so distant when truly he needed comfort, but he knew that going about it by smothering him would only make him close up more. Most of their fights had been due to his persistence in the beginning. He was so set on having the man open up that he was doing the opposite of what he wanted him to do. Letting Liam unfold himself from his weave in loneliness was a beautiful sight. After allowing him time to be himself, to learn to trust the scientist with his heart, to love him; it was the most magical thing he had ever seen. 

     The sight of him, curled against his sheets, curly hair falling against his forehead, makes his heart ache. Placing his bags near the front door of his apartment, he quickly showers, changing into something more appropriate for bed and slides in next to Liam. Water-warmed hands slip through uneasy curls, his stomach and chest pressing close as he wiggles his way into the crook of his neck. His eyes are heavy in an instant, exhausted from travel and his weekend of work. But a simple smile overcomes his features as he inhales; as much as there was lingering molecules of his own soap, underneath laid the cologne that he loved so much. He groans sleepily, nudging his face further into the man’s neck, his hand soothing against his spine to calm any anxiety the man might have about feeling another body against his own, in sleep. 

     Four years and nothing had changed. He stilled felt flutterings of butterfly wings when their skin brushed, still felt a heat rise in his belly when he gave him a look that meant fun, and sleeping with him, warmed by blankets and sleep-contorted faces was still his favorite thing. The eldest Kennedy could still remember when they would wake up, haphazardly tangled in each other and the blanket. He could never understand how they would end up so weaved together but the more that it happened, the more that he fell in love with it. Closeness had always been their ‘thing’. From tickling touch of hands in moments of anxiety to not quite being able to get the same amount of rest without being snuggled into the other’s side, touch was something they thrived on. Despite being who he was, words had never come easily to him. He was easily flustered, quick to blush, and easy to make stumble over words and so touch, unwavering in nature and solid, had always been easier than telling him how he felt without it coming out the opposite of what he wanted it to come out as.  

     Matt found it to be beautiful. How simple touch could cause such a strong set of positive emotions to stop a panic attack straight in it’s path, or to whisk away the lingering bitterness of a nightmare. Liam had done it for him many of times. The CEO had simply gave him a look, or grasped his hand, and before his panic had risen to the level of attack, it disappeared. He could feel the emotion well in his chest even in his exhausted state. He wants to laugh at how pathetic he was, crying over being in love with somebody felt like something that only happened in movies

❛ Part of my charm is showing up when I’m not particularly asked to, ❜ he said with a chuckle, shuffling past his disheveled friend. Liam looked like hell and he sounded like it, too. The normal gravel in his voice was even more course from what he assumed was sadness and exhaustion. ❛ So what the fuck’s going on man? Before you answer take a swig o’ the tequila. Maybe … fuck it, no shot first then a piece of pizza. ❜

   “Nothing is going on. Just a bit stressful with work, which is nothing new nor serious,” which was a big lie. “I would not mind taking a swig first and right now”