This is the raciest thing I have ever written. You have been warned.

I'm pretty nervous about posting this, but also quite proud of it. Let me know if you like it, or if this is a horible mistake and I should stick to fun gen fics.

Anna didn't want to say goodbye right after dinner.

All she had been thinking about all day was that kiss when he'd got back from the mountains. It had been… hard to forget.

So when he walked her to her room as usual, she made a decision to let impulse take the lead.

"Do you… I don't want to say goodnight yet."

"Ok. Do you want to go for a walk, or…?"

"No, I – do you want to come in?"

Kristoff's hand immediately leapt up to the back of his head. He stammered something about intruding, and it was so endearing that Anna couldn't help but smile. It made her surer.

"I won't tell. Promise."

At this, he rolled his eyes.

She shut the door behind them. He stood a little awkwardly in the middle of the room: he'd not actually been in before. Anna wasn't quite sure what to do with him.

"So – this is my room."

"I can see."

She stood beside him, and very gently took his hand. He squeezed it.

"So. Do you want – "

But before he could get another word out, she turned and kissed him.

Despite himself, Kristoff couldn't help but respond.

He put his arms around her, pulling her close to him.

With a sigh, she let herself do what she had longed to do for months: not only rest her hands on his chest, but feel it. As they kissed, she moved her hands up to his shoulders, round his sides, pressed them against the muscles of his back. She moved down from his great broad chest to feel his stomach, and hips, and –

"Woah," he pulled back. "Are you – should we – "

She had leapt back as though electrocuted, suddenly looking very anxious. "I'm sorry – did I – I didn't mean to do something wrong – "

"Hey, no," he smiled and reached out his hands to her, and she gratefully reeled herself back in. "You've not done anything wrong. I just want to make sure you're ok. We don't have to… do anything you don't want to."

She shook her head. "I want to. I've wanted to do this for – forever. And this morning, when you got back, I – I was thinking about it, a lot, and – I just…" she trailed off, looking over him, her eyes roaming. "But I mean, if you don't want – then that's totally cool, I don't mind – "

By way of response, he pulled her back and kissed her again. This time, there was no hesitancy. He did not pull back as she put her hands beneath his shirt, but allowed her touch to send sparks through his body.

She marvelled at how warm he was. At the gentle give of his waist and back as she pressed her hands against him. Before she knew what she was doing, she tugged at his shirt and he obliged, pulling it over his head and discarding it as quickly as possible.

Kristoff, too, let go of his anxieties and awkwardness and gave in to impulse. He moved his hands up from her waist to her chest, and she gasped a little, at that, and it only made him want her more.

She showed him how to take off her dress, but there were still more layers under that. And more under that.

"I am literally just wearing pants," he said, bemused. "That is it. How do you even get into this every day?"

She shushed him, and kissed him, and felt a thrill she never had before at being here in just her chemise in front of him. She felt vulnerable – but at the same time, absolutely exhilarated. It was a strange vulnerability – one of trust.

Now that she'd fought her way out of most of the underwear, they moved over to her bed. She lay him down and leaned across to kiss him, and now, without the corsets and bloomers and petticoats, she was so much softer. Less rigid. And he could put his hands beneath the cotton thing she was wearing and feel the skin of her back and waist and legs and God, it felt so right to hold her like this at last.

He kissed down her neck. Her whole bodied trembled. He moved his hand to lift up the last vestige of clothing to reach higher, to feel her breasts without corsets and cloth. Her breath was uneven and she pressed herself harder against him.

"You ok?"

"Yes."

It was all the invitation he needed to roll them over so he lay on top, arms either side of her head.

She was so beautiful.

He kissed her again.

Somewhere, the chemise had come off, and he wanted to kiss down her body, trail his mouth over inch of her, but she wrapped her legs around his waist, and it was his turn to gasp as she pulled him closer with them. This made her giggle, so he shut her up by reaching round to run a hand all the way up the inside of her leg to where it met her body. This made her release him, so he was finally able to kiss down to her legs, and up them again, and he had a dizzying moment of introspection as he looked up at her, her eyes closed, biting her lip, coiled on with expectation. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined this – so any moment, he would wake up.

But no. He could not have imagined that many layers of clothes. This was happening. Anna – his beautiful, ridiculous Anna – was here. With him.

She moaned and grabbed his hair and grabbed the pillows and pressed her hips up. She said his name.

She had never felt anything like this. She thought she might explode. She almost thought she did, and pressed her face to the pillow in an attempt to stay quiet. When she came down from the climax, floating, a grin on her face, he lay beside her.

"Was that ok?"

In response, she made a funny noise halfway between a growl and a hum.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

"I improvised."

She pushed him down, pressing her hand against him, still full of want. She knew very little about how men worked, exactly, but she could read him like a book, so let his responses guide her. She let her hand wander, feel things she was sure she wasn't supposed to – but what could be wrong about this? A complete expression of the soaring, bursting feeling in her chest that made her run to him, miss him, long to see his face every day?

He moaned, a deep and sensuous sound, and it went straight through her, a hot, heavy pressure that moved every inch of her to reach for his hand and put his fingers between her legs. It was different to whatever he'd done before – deeper – and she hooked her leg over him, pressing him further inside her, one hand still figuring out what to do with him down there. She clutched at his back with the other.

For a few moments they moved in time, matching their pace, going faster, feeling each other give and moan and buckle at their touch.

He faltered suddenly, and pressed his face into her neck.

"What? No no no, don't stop – " she looked down wildly, her hair all over the please, and the look on her face sent a shudder of want through him.

"You are making it difficult to concentrate."

"Oh – " she removed her hand for a second, and grinned guiltily. "Sorry."

He moved it back.

"I really didn't mean stop."

She kissed him again, and pressed her face to the bottom of his jaw as they continued, rocking and moaning, the heat of the moment and the sound of the other's hitching breath and soft exhalations the response they needed to keep going, keep pushing, edge closer, and closer, and closer and –

Anna said his name again with an intimacy that was too much and he came, hard, every part of him tense, pleasure crashing like waves, and he was sure he was doing something ridiculous with his face but in that moment, he couldn't have cared less –

It ebbed. He still had his eyes shut, breathing heavily.

When he finally opened them, taking his fingers from her, he looked across with love to see –

She looked completely shocked.

"What the hell was that!?"

Anna was looking in a kind of fascinated horror at the mess they'd made.

"Oh," he felt himself go very red. "That's – normal. Um. Do you have – something to –"

"Oh! Of course. Sorry – " she rolled over and fished a handkerchief out of the bedside cabinet.

He tried not to think about how this would go down with the poor, poor laundry maids – maybe they could burn everything, or something. Then they could run away to the mountains, so he'd never have to make eye contact with them again.

That done, Anna nestled up to him. She put her arm across his chest, her head just below his collarbone. His pulled her close, and he absently he drew patterns on her arm.

She was making no secret of the fact that she was just feeling his arm up.

"Well. That was something."

"Was that all right? Are you ok?"

"Are you kidding me?" She looked up at him. "That was amazing."

He grinned a little at that. "Good."

"I have wanted to do that for… for a really long time."

"Me too."

They lay in the easy lull for a few minutes, basking. They both had to remind themselves a few times that that had really just happened.

Kristoff felt himself drifting off – it was too comfortable, here with her – and forced his eyes back open.

"Hey. I should go."

"What? No!" She wriggled on top of him, clinging on like a small ginger limpet. "Don't go yet."

"I'm going to fall asleep."

"Well… that's ok, I'll wake you up."

"You're going to fall asleep too."

She turned her head so her nose was right against his cheek. His eyes were so close they were out of focus.

He sighed.

"Fine. Five minutes."

It was not five minutes.

They both fell into an easy sleep, tangled around each other. Neither had slept this close to another person before, but after what just happened, it seemed like the most normal thing in the world.

Anna woke suddenly in the middle of the night, absolutely desperate for a wee. They'd rolled away from each other by this point, and half-asleep, she forgot he was there – so when she realised she still wasn't wearing anything, and heard his very soft snores, it was a huge shock.

The candles had burnt down to stubs, and it was pitch black outside. What time was it?

Certainly not five minutes after they'd fallen asleep.

When she was done, Anna crept back to bed. She slipped back under the covers – briefly amazed by how warm they still were due to the huge, naked ice harvester in her bed – and poked him a little.

"Kristoff," she hissed.

No response.

She wriggled closer to him and gave him a gentle shake.

"Kristoff."

Very bleary, he opened his eyes and rolled over. He saw her, and how dark the room was, and was suddenly wide awake. He sat up.

"Crap," he whispered. "What time is it?"

"I have no idea."

She sat up beside him, though dragged the covers up with her.

"You have to go," she shooed him. "Be stealthy."

He retrieved his clothes from around the room – trousers from the bottom of the bed, shirt from the floor – and from the bed, Anna admired what she could see in the very low remaining candlelight.

Kristoff noticed.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he whispered.

"Very much." She pulled the covers around her more, looking a lot like a small mound of snow with a head. "Take your time."

He muttered mutinously, retrieving his final sock.

"Hey," she extended an arm from her pile of bed clothes and reached towards him. "I wish you could stay."

"Me too. But I would prefer not to be tried for treason."

But he came back over to the bed, and allowed her to pull him down for a very long kiss.

"I love you, Kristoff."

"I love you too."

He crept over to the door, and with a final smile, was gone.

Anan fell back onto the bed. She closed her eyes and relived every moment of the previous night.

She would have to have him again tomorrow.