Rain

300 words :: Jude Law/Ewan McGregor :: 7/9/05
It won’t be grand. It’ll be freezing and I’ll, I’ll freeze to death, and you’ll have that on your conscience.


“Come on,” Ewan says, “it’ll be grand.”

“It won’t be grand. It’ll be freezing and I’ll, I’ll freeze to death, and you’ll have that on your conscience.” Jude hugs himself tightly and shivers at the thought. “Is that what you want?”

“You’re exaggerating.” Ewan grabs Jude’s arm and tries to pull him towards the stairs. Jude just digs in his heels and pulls back, glaring at him.

“I’m not going out in the rain, not in the middle of the night. Especially not in December. Especially especially not in the middle of the night in fucking December fucking naked.”

“Well, I was thinking of leaving the fucking for afterwards, actually,” Ewan jokes, but it only earns him another glare. “Come on, you mean to tell me you’ve never wanted to dance around naked in the rain?”

“Never.”

When Ewan lets go of Jude’s hand, Jude looks startled, as if he hadn’t expected Ewan to give in so easily. Ewan hasn’t given in, of course, and Jude should know that. In two steps, Ewan is in front of him, hands on Jude’s hips, and as he presses his lips to Jude’s, his arms slide ’round until he’s holding him tight. “I’ll keep you warm,” he murmurs, and Jude just sort of melts, relaxing into Ewan’s embrace.

“Maybe.”

“Come on.”

“You’re mad.”

“Never,” Ewan mimics, tickling Jude.

Jude giggles and tries to squirm away. “As a hatter.”

“Come with me,” Ewan urges, not sure why it suddenly feels so important that Jude say yes. He catches Jude’s wrist. “Please.”

“It’s pissing down.”

“I know.” Ewan pauses. “I want you with me.”

“I-”

Face buried in Jude’s neck, Ewan says quietly, “I love you.”

And for what seems like forever, all he can hear is his heart beating, and then Jude says, “Yes.”