Title:   Porch Series #1 (aia Dream Stream)
Author:  SM (burntsm0re)
Fandom:  Lost
Pairing:  Locke/Boone
Rating:
Warnings:  deathfic 

Boone woke up when John started the shower. He was too languidly sore and tired to actually get up fast enough to join him, but when John turned the water off and cracked the door to let the steam out, Boone got up.

He peeked through the blinds at the pink sunrise and then tapped softly on the bathroom door before sticking his head in. After years of having someone else wipe his ass, John didn't like being barged in on, even if he was just taking a leak.

John was standing at the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist, rubbing his hand over his head. Boone knew what he was thinking.

"Let me," he said and John nodded because he knew it was something Boone just liked to do for him.

Boone let John finish his morning ritual, forgoing brushing his own teeth at the moment. He lightly brushed John's neck with his lips to avoid a morning breath grimace and went to the kitchen. Boone poured two cups of coffee from the already brewed pot and took them out on the porch. He shivered for a moment, his bare skin adjusting to the cooler air as John got settled. The older man was naked too, the towel from his waist now wrapped around his shoulders and he traded the electric razor in his hand for a cup of coffee.

Boone ran his hand over John's scalp to map each bump and groove. There was barely any light yet, just the pink-orange glow spreading across the horizon, but Boone didn't need any more to know what he was doing. He turned the clippers on, the soft buzz breaking the early morning silence, and waited for John to take another sip of his coffee and set the cup on his knee. Boone pressed the clippers to John's head and moved it up and down, carefully shaving the short hair down to the skin. It only took a few moments and the job was done.

Boone switched the settings on the razor as he nudged the coffee cup on John's knee aside to take its place. Straddling John's lap, Boone ran the razor over John's face as well, using his fingers to feel for anymore stubble he couldn't see. When he was finished, Boone unwrapped the towel from John's neck and attempted to stand, to take it to the porch door and shake the fine hairs outside, but it ended up just discared on the floor, as usual, when John wouldn't let him rise.

Coffee breath was much more agreeable during morning kisses and Boone was always amazed how quickly he could lose himself in the sensation of John's mouth and hands blending with the rising sun's warmth spreading over his skin until he felt like he was drowning in liquid heat. Until out of the corner of his eye Boone saw the neighbor's kitchen light turn on and he reluctantly pulled back.

They didn't want to flash the neighbors and John had to be getting to work anywa--

But John just pulled a blanket from under the chair.

John wrapped the blanket around them and Boone was on the edge of dozing off again, head on John's shoulder, when the neighbor's porch door swung open and she let her dog out. She paused on the steps, her eyes obviously adjusting to the large gloomy form behind their screen. Realizing they were there, she smiled and waved.

John nodded back, his hands full. "Morning, Claire."