Summer's end

by laurel

Notes: Follows: A Christmas wish, A new love, That's what friends are for, Popsicle toes, Twister, Tangled up in blue, The list, Jazz singer, Debut, Meet the neighbors, War games, The art of seduction.

This celebrates the end of summer, when you can still luxuriate in some warm days, the flowers are still in bloom, the skies are clear and the sun still shines.

Spoilers: None

Archive: okay to WWOMB, anyone else just ask first.

Fox lazily traced the veins in Alex's wrist and arm. They were blue as the sky above them. Only shreds of fluffy white clouds marred the impenetrable blue surface that cradled the earth from the sharp rocks violently flying in the space beyond. The sky looked so innocuous, so innocent, with its clear blue, the blue of a child's colored pencil, which was usually known as peacock blue.

It was a fine autumn day, frost on the roof tiles giving way to Indian summer for just a few brief weeks.

The grass was cool underneath them, bare in spots, which Walter had filled in with rich earth. He could smell that musty but new smell of dirt. John was napping, his head on Walter's taut stomach. Alex snuggled closer to Fox, laying a leg across his. His lover was in the mood for snuggling.

There were still flowers in bloom, roses, some tight buds, others with petals opened wide, pink snap dragons with fleshy buds ripe and velvety, orange geraniums, the obligatory burgundy and lavender mums, a fall staple.

Ladybugs landed on Alex's face, looking like freckles against his paling skin. His summer tan was already fading. He swiped away at the insects and they spread their wings and flew away to a nearby patch of flowers. He snuffled his nose as if their legs still tickled him.

Fox reached over to where the edge of the rose garden ended. Some petals had fallen down from spent blooms and last night's rain had filled them like tiny bathtubs which were the perfect fit for tiny fairies.

John sighed in his sleep and settled more firmly on Walter, an arm flinging around his waist. Walter's fingers slid through his short brown hair and down the nape of his neck where the stiff little hairs bristled like impatient soldiers. John gave a satisfied grunt at the intrusion on his sleep.

Fox picked a nearby daisy that sprouted its head from between a thick rose branch.

"Why don't you pluck out the weeds?" Alex asked.

"Thought you were napping."

"I always sleep with one eye open." He kept one eye open and one closed to demonstrate.

"He loves me, he loves me not," Fox began to recite as he plucked the white slivers of petals from their bright yellow center.

Alex took the flower from his hand, shredded the remaining petals and tossed the stem away. He crawled up Fox's body to sprawl across him. Fox wrapped his arms around his lover tightly. "He loves you," Alex whispered. Fox smiled and nuzzled into Alex's freshly washed hair. The smell of exotic fruits and flowers filled his nose. Alex liked to imitate that orgasmic commercial while he washed his hair. Or perhaps he was just having solo fun in the shower.

They spent the rest of the afternoon lying on the cool grass, a thick blanket underneath them for warmth and comfort, staring at the blue sky, gazing at the last flowers of the season, inhaling the scent of the pine tree, letting the sun soak into their skin and dozing until the sun began to set.

Fall was beginning to set its cold fingers in deeply, setting patches of trees on fire with red and gold, while the rest of the leaves tenaciously held on to green. The last fierce rays of the sun set the whole world glowing, imitating the changing colors of the leaves. Finally they went inside, well rested for the night ahead.

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