Elizabeth and Henry celebrate several "first" birthdays together. Based on mobazan's prompt: Flour looks good in your hair.
Fall 1986
Elizabeth stood at the counter in Henry's kitchen, icing the cake she'd made for his birthday. Midterms currently consumed their lives, and the classes for which Henry was a teaching assistant required his attention, in addition to his regular coursework. They'd hardly seen each other, even though Elizabeth had essentially moved her study sessions- and the catnaps of sleep she was getting- to Henry's apartment, just for those rare moments together.
Henry and Elizabeth hadn't been dating long, but found themselves nearly inseparable, either studying together in the library or his apartment, or on weekend adventures when classes weren't in session. Elizabeth was at times simultaneously unnerved and overwhelmed by her emotions for this man, and nearly giddy with the joy she felt in his presence. She often caught herself waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak, then chiding herself for letting her broken heart mar her happiness.
Elizabeth's focus on her task blocked the noise of the apartment door opening and Henry walked through the kitchen doorway before she noticed his presence. "Henry!" She startled, dropping the spatula, splattering bits of icing on the counter and her apron. "I didn't expect you this soon," she explained, almost sheepishly, her eyes darting from him to the table, where unlit candles, an opened bottle of wine, and several plates sat in an untidy pile.
"I finished early tonight. Either I prepared my students better than I anticipated, or they Christmas tree'd the exam." He shrugged, halfheartedly, exhaustion clouding his hazel eyes. "I'll deal with them later. I've missed you."
He dumped his bag in the chair, stepping to Elizabeth and kissing her lightly. Then he slid his arms around her waist, and deepened the kiss.
"Mmmm…" Elizabeth purred, her hands sliding up his forearms to grip his biceps. "I missed you, too. These two weeks have seemed endless." She sighed, wearily, resting her forehead on Henry's shoulder. "My last exam ended at noon. I didn't expect you here for dinner, and I was starving, so ate already. I should've waited for you," she apologized, looking up at him. "I can heat up mac and cheese if you're hungry," Elizabeth offered, moving out of his embrace toward the refrigerator.
"Maybe later. I've been snacking all day." Henry caught her by the wrist and pulled her back to him. "Whatcha doing?" He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Elizabeth more closely. Henry untied the apron she wore, and pulled the material away from her body, draping it over a chair. "You're dressed up," he noticed, taking in the slinky black sheath, held up by a line of glitter tracing each shoulder, and the strappy heels on her feet. "I didn't forget date night, did I?"
"No, I just…" Elizabeth stammered.
Henry peered over her shoulder. "Is that a cake? Are you baking?" he prodded.
In lieu of an answer, Elizabeth kissed him again, intending to distract his line of questioning. Henry hadn't shaved for a few days, and the resulting scruff was unbelievably sexy. Elizabeth felt the desire simmering since she'd dressed begin to flare again, tightening in her belly. She nibbled at his lips, teasing, savoring. Henry threaded his hands through her hair, tilting her head to slip his tongue between her lips.
Suddenly, Henry pulled away, taking a step back, her hands in his. "Wait a minute. Let me look at you. I was too impatient when I came home." He paused, his gaze raking her body. "You are stunning." Henry tightened his grip, stroking her knuckles with his thumbs. "And you made me a birthday cake," he concluded. His hazel eyes warmed with an emotion Elizabeth couldn't quite define. She glanced away, uncharacteristically shy. She was suddenly afraid she'd done too much, and was embarrassed at her sentimentality. Henry reached out, brushing a loose strand of blonde hair with his fingers. "Flour looks good in your hair."
Elizabeth dropped Henry's hand and embarrassingly swiped at the offending granules. Henry laughed at her reaction, the primping so very unlike Elizabeth. He caught her fingers in his own, gaining her attention. "I very much appreciate the reason for the flour. Everything looks good on you. Everything," Henry emphasized. His eyes darkened at his words.
"This is our first birthday together, and I wanted to make the day special," Elizabeth elaborated, not fully confident in her plan now that she'd set in motion. "I haven't set the table yet, but I did open the wine." She reached for her glass, and offered it to him. He took the wine, swirling the liquid before taking a swallow, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I've never made a cake before," she confessed.
"Never?" Henry queried, although not necessarily surprised. Elizabeth had many talents, he'd learned, but none very domestic. He'd already replaced several burnt pans, and eaten more than his share of eggs and macaroni and cheese on the nights she was in charge of dinner.
"Nope." She drew out the word, popping the 'p', and jerking a shoulder in resignation. "You've seen my culinary skills, or lack thereof. I don't know if I'll have any better luck with baking."
"Well, let's find out." Henry pulled open the silverware drawer, blindly reaching for a utensil, never taking his eyes off Elizabeth.
"Henry, wait," Elizabeth protested, laying her hand on his arm, before he could do more. "I have nice dishes, and candles."
"I don't need candles. I have you. And I want to try this cake."
"Now?" Her voice carried a hint of panic.
"Why not?" he insisted, winking at her. "We're adults. We can eat dessert whenever we want to. Especially dessert that looks this good." His innuendo was obvious.
Elizabeth hesitantly removed her hand, but not before she saw the object he held. "You grabbed a spoon," she pointed out.
"It's clean," he chuckled, "and it'll work just as well as a fork." Henry pulled on the edge of the plate, sliding the cake closer to him. As Elizabeth watched, he dipped the spoon into the cake, and took a bite.
"It's bad, isn't it?" Elizabeth exclaimed, as he grimaced. Henry tried to rectify his initial impression, but she interrupted. "Your poker face sucks." Elizabeth took the spoon from him, and sampled the dessert herself. "Damn it. I can't bake any better than I can cook," she huffed, tossing the spoon in the sink with a clatter.
After a long moment, the frustration on Elizabeth's face melted into a mischievous grin. "Well, you're still going to get dessert. And your birthday present." She reached up to her shoulders, tugging on the thin, sparkling straps. The black silk drifted sensuously down her lithe frame, revealing satin and lace underneath.
Henry's breath caught in his chest. "Tonight? Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with sudden desire.
Elizabeth bit her lip, and nodded, sexy glee lighting her blue eyes. "Oh, yes. Very sure," she confirmed with a husky whisper. Elizabeth stepped over the discarded dress, taking Henry's mouth in a hot, wet kiss as her arms slid around his neck. Pressing her body to his, she murmured against his lips, "take me to bed, birthday boy."
Spring 1987
Sunlight filtered through the bedroom windows, gradually waking Elizabeth from her dreams. She stretched, languidly, eyes still closed, relishing the pleasant ache in her muscles from a long night of lovemaking. Gleefully hugging her arms to her chest, her heart fluttered with joy. For the first time in years, she didn't dread her birthday. When Henry asked what she wanted, her reply was an entire day with him, on horseback. Although she knew he wasn't thrilled about the idea, he'd agreed. She'd gone to a baseball game, hadn't she? He might enjoy riding more than he thought he would. Rolling over, she reached out for her boyfriend- she loved using that word- and found the sheets cold, although this scent lingered. Elizabeth sat up in bed, searching for Henry's shirt, discarded the night before. She had almost given up her hunt, deciding she'd just join him naked in the kitchen, when Henry walked in the room, clad only in his boxers, carrying a tray.
"Happy birthday, beautiful," he greeted her, his voice low and warm, hazel eyes twinkling. Damn, he was sexy. Elizabeth nearly licked her lips at his toned body she'd enjoyed so much just hours earlier.
"I wondered where you went. A girl doesn't like to wake up alone on her birthday," Elizabeth admonished, her sassy grin betraying her serious tone.
"A girl also deserves breakfast in bed on her birthday, especially since this is your first we'll celebrate together," Henry replied, leaning down to kiss her. He set the tray carefully on the bed, and handed her the bright red tulip laying next to the domed plate. Elizabeth held the bloom to her nose, smelling the sweet scent of spring in the petals.
"Careful of the bubbles," he warned, as he held out a champagne flute, orange and frothy, one of two glasses perched on the tray. He took the other, toasting her before taking a sip.
"Mimosas, too? I could get used to this." The sheet shifted as Elizabeth reached for the glass, baring her breasts to the sunlight. Henry's eyes never left her body as she moved.
"I could get used to seeing you naked in my bed."
"I could get used to being here. For so many reasons. Mostly, if you keep feeding me." She hid a very feline smile as she drank, citrus and champagne bursting on her tongue, but her eyes conveyed the deeper meaning in her comment. If Elizabeth was honest with herself, she'd nearly decided she never wanted to leave his side. Ever. "So what did you bring me?" Elizabeth asked, giggling as her stomach growled, interrupting the sensuality of the moment.
Henry lifted the metal cover to reveal icing and chocolate. "Knowing you, I figured I'd just skip breakfast and go right to dessert."
"Oh, I love morning cake," she exclaimed gleefully, sloshing her drink precariously as she bounced like a child.
Henry grinned at her response, and slid the tray farther into the middle of the bed so he could sit on the edge of the mattress.
Elizabeth swapped her drink for the spoon from the tray, and her giggles dissolved into belly laughs when she noticed his choice of utensils. Once she'd controlled her amusement, she dug in heartily, savoring the sweetness on her tongue with a moan.
Elizabeth took another bite, rolling her tongue along the curves of metal, a sexy glint in her blue eyes. She slowly licked the remains of icing from her lips, relishing the desire in Henry's gaze as he watched her. She contemplated him a moment, then reached out her free hand, running her fingers along his temple.
"You made this, didn't you?" Henry shrugged, but said nothing. "You did," Elizabeth concluded. "Flour looks good in your hair."
Henry tilted his head and rested his cheek in her hand, kissing her palm lightly. Elizabeth traced her thumb along his lips, before reaching again for the cake. "For future reference, you can bring me cake any morning, not just for my birthday."
"I'll remember that. As long as you're in my life, you can have cake whenever you want."
While Henry watched her contentedly, Elizabeth ate another few bites, then drained her mimosa. She set both her glass and his, along with the spoon, back on the tray, which she then set on the nightstand. "I don't want any casualties." Henry raised an eyebrow at her cryptic comment.
Elizabeth shifted to her knees, pushing the sheet off her body, naked and glowing in the sunlight. "Do you know what else I like in the morning?" she purred huskily, crawling across the mattress. "Sex. And I bet it's even better with cake. Wanna find out?" she asked, reaching for Henry and tumbling him over her with a laugh.
Fall 1995
Elizabeth whimpered into the juncture of Henry's neck as her body shuddered through her orgasm, her hands sliding limply from his shoulders. He groaned against her ear, long and guttural, as he stiffened beneath her.
"Well, that's a first," she gasped, sucking in a breath, as she melted bonelessly in his arms. "This puts a whole new meaning on kitchen sex."
Henry murmured incoherently, presumably in agreement. He shifted to brace his weight against Elizabeth's body, simultaneously pinning her against the metal at her back.
"Yikes!" she exclaimed. "That's cold!" Elizabeth arched her spine, jerked from her post-climax daze by the cold refrigerator door pressing against her skin.
"Shhh," Henry admonished her hastily, his eyes darting to the hallway beyond the kitchen.
Elizabeth's elbow hit the door handle as she flailed for purchase on the slick surface. "Ow," she bit out, through clenched teeth, tilting her head to glare at her husband.
"Sorry," Henry replied, sheepishly. He adjusted his knees, wedging himself under Elizabeth's thighs, as he shakily gripped her hamstrings. She grabbed onto his biceps, nails digging into his skin. Henry winced, and began to shuffle his feet to another position.
"No, wait, don't move yet." Elizabeth squeezed his arms tighter. "I'm going to fall if you do. I still can't feel my legs," she hissed in warning.
"Well, I have to do something," Henry implored, "or I'm going to drop us both."
"Ok, hold on. Just let me…" Elizabeth trailed off as she anchored her left arm around his neck and pulled her body slightly forward. She reached behind her to tug down the shirt she hadn't bothered to remove in their haste, creating more of a barrier between her bare skin and the metal of the refrigerator.
"Better?" Henry confirmed, at Elizabeth's sigh of relief. He dropped his chest into her shoulders, relaxing his posture.
"Yeah, it was, but now I can't breathe. You're too heavy." Elizabeth tightened both arms around his neck, then tentatively shifted one leg. She planted one foot on the ground, then did the same with the other, as Henry softened and slipped from her sex. Elizabeth paused a moment, testing her balance. Equilibrium reestablished, she tugged on Henry's hair. When he shifted in response, she pushed him slightly away from her body, and inhaled deeply.
"Now that's better." She grinned at him. "In so many ways." Elizabeth looked down, where his shorts and hers lay tangled at his feet, and waved a hand at the pile on the floor. "You'd better be careful, though. Don't trip."
Henry squatted tentatively, his groan now of a different, less sensual variety, and grabbed his shorts and boxers. He kissed Elizabeth's knee, then managed to tug his clothing back into place. "I'm still a bit shaky down here. I'll let you handle these yourself," he chuckled, tossing Elizabeth her own shorts, as he tugged at the panties still wrapped around her left foot.
Elizabeth caught her clothing, shifting to one leg to redress herself, and suddenly snapped back to reality. She dropped her leg and jerked her head toward the kitchen counter. "Oh, my God, Henry, we defiled our daughter's first birthday cake," she almost wailed.
Henry stood, bracketing her hips with his hands for support, and followed his wife's gaze to the rather misshapen off white lump. "Babe, I love you, but I'm pretty sure that's not going to be much of a cake," he said, cringing slightly as he gauged Elizabeth's reaction. "The only thing we defiled is the kitchen, and I'm not sure that's the word I'd use. I was going more for distraction."
"Henry, you just fucked me against the refrigerator door. Distraction is an understatement."
"What can I say? I couldn't help myself." He shrugged, matter of factly. "Flour looks good in your hair." Henry reached over to run his fingers through the blonde strands escaping from Elizabeth's ponytail, slightly askew from thrashing her head in passion. "And you're totally sexy in that apron." Elizabeth glanced down at the material bunched under her breasts, completely naked from the waist down, shorts still dangling from her hand.
"Apparently, I succeeded," he pointed out with a smirk, "since you've forgotten the smoking oven and your distraught ranting."
"For the record, I wasn't ranting. I hadn't gotten to the ranting stage, yet."
The look on Henry's face cleared conveyed his disagreement with her state of mind, but he wisely said nothing.
"I have flour everywhere," Elizabeth declared, grimacing at the white dusting on her thighs. She ran her gaze up her husband's body. "So do you," she noted, brushing absently at the handprints on his t-shirt.
"Damn it." Elizabeth starred forlornly at the baking dish on the counter. "I actually thought I could make our daughter's first birthday cake. Why do I ever think I'm anything but failure in the kitchen?"
Henry wrapped his arms around Elizabeth, hands caressing her naked skin, and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Babe, I can guarantee you weren't a failure just then. Far from it." Elizabeth snickered, in spite of herself, as Henry nibbled at the skin behind her ear. "As for the cake," he continued, "Stevie won't notice. Doesn't she just smash it around and make a mess for the sake of pictures, anyway?"
"Well, yes." Elizabeth admitted. "It's actually called a smash cake. I have unicorn decorations to match the pink icing and the party theme."
"There you go," Henry reassured Elizabeth, hugging her gently. "She smashes that one, and is none the wiser. She'll be so high on sugar, she won't even get to the actual cake."
"Yeah, that's gonna be so much fun," Elizabeth snorted. "For the record, you get cleanup duty."
Just then, a tiny voice trilled "Mamamamamamama", her singsong voice drifting into the kitchen.
"Speaking of the birthday girl, someone is awake from her nap."
"Oh, God." Elizabeth groaned. "Do you think we woke her?"
"I doubt it, or she wouldn't be nearly that happy," Henry speculated. "She'd have no idea what she was hearing, anyway. Sex noises are probably much less jarring than the smoke detector, and we caught that in time." Elizabeth smacked him on the chest, rolling her eyes at his amusement.
"But what about the party guests? They can't eat this mess." Elizabeth gestured toward the counter in disgust.
"You go get the baby, and I'll clean up here," Henry suggested. "Then we'll make a trip to the bakery for another cake."
Elizabeth tugged on her underwear and slipped into her shorts, untying the apron and handing it to Henry. "Do I have flour anywhere else?' she asked, turning in a circle.
"Yeah, hold on." Henry vaguely motioned with his hand. She stopped with her back to him. "Right here," he responded, squeezing her ass.
"Very funny," Elizabeth retorted, tossing a glance over her shoulder. Then she looked at her husband thoughtfully, as a gleam brightened her eyes. "You know, I can save some of that icing." With a wink and a sly grin, she continued, "maybe later, we'll see how good it looks on you."