Thirtieth fic for a Pride Month prompt challenge from tumblr. Prompt: domestic.
Even before Mila fully wakes, she can smell breakfast and hear Sara pottering about in the kitchen. She stretches, feeling her joints pull and pop luxuriously, and a little draught sneaks under the blankets when her toes peek out over the end of the bed. It caresses her legs, and she rolls first to one side then the other to wrap herself more closely in the blankets. The volume on the radio in the kitchen gets turned up: it's Sara's favourite song, and she's singing along in a voice sweet and golden like honey that reaches right into Mila's heart and brings a grin to her face.
The faint hiss of the gas stove disappears, leaving Sara and her lovely voice, the clattering of cutlery and the light padding of bare feet on a wooden floor. There's the pap of a plate put down on a tray and Sara's singing gets louder as she comes to the bedroom door. She hips it open, purple eyes lighting up when they fall upon Mila, still in the bed.
"Morning!" Sara chirps, putting the tray down on the chest of drawers and crawling up next to Mila to kiss her on the lips. "Happy birthday."
Mila pulls her closer, stealing more kisses. "Thank you."
"I made you breakfast," murmurs Sara. "Thought you'd like to eat it in bed."
Mila nods. "That sounds perfect."
Sara jumps to her feet again, grabbing the tray and bringing it to the bed so they can curl up together against the pillows and eat. The pancakes are light and fluffy, weighed down pleasantly by Sicilian honey and dusted with cinnamon.
"What do you want to do today?" asks Sara afterwards, when they're feeding each other figs and grapes and bits of nectarine with their fingers. "We could drive out to the mountains and go hiking, or we could head down to the beach or–"
Mila leans in to kiss Sara, cutting off her words. When she pulls away, she licks along Sara's bottom lip and smiles. "Or we could stay here for a while..."
Sara laughs, the sound like a tinkling bell. "If that's what the birthday girl wants."
She leans forward, arms slipping around Mila's shoulders as Mila's encircle her waist. Their lips shift together, tongues rolling and touching, and Mila pulls Sara closer against her. When Sara breaks the kiss to move her lips steadily down along Mila's chin and then down her neck, Mila sighs and grins again. She feels Sara's fruit-tacky fingers run along the hem of her sleep shirt before slipping under the fabric to trail over her skin and the little intake of breath in Sara's ear is just loud enough to be heard over the radio in the other room. A hand rests on her shoulder in more than suggestion and Mila allows Sara to press her back into the pillows as her lips continue to her collarbone, teeth catching the skin and leaving tiny red marks there. Sticky hands grasp at Sara's hips, encouraging, and Mila stretches out her legs...
A rattle and a smash interrupt them and they break apart, leaning over the bed to see the remains of the bowl of fruit on the floor.
"Merda!" Sara squeaks, throwing herself off the bed to try and clean up the mess of juice and sugar before it spreads too far across the rug. Mila leans over and pulls tissues out of the dispenser on the bedside table, dropping them down to Sara so she can soak up the liquid. When they're done, there's still a pinkish stain on the corner of the rug and the room smells sweet.
"Sorry," says Mila, when the last pieces of the bowl and bits of fruit are on the tray, but Sara waves a hand.
"Don't be!" she says, kneeling up next to the bed to kiss Mila on the forehead. "I should have moved it." She gets up on the bed, sitting on the edge of it. "I should probably go wash my hands."
"Probably," Mila says before taking the opportunity to slip a hand around the back of Sara's neck and steal a kiss before pulling back again. "I think I need a shower."
"Well..." Sara touches her forehead to Mila's with a little smile. "We could both shower and then figure out what we want to do for the rest of the day?"
Mila nods. "Sounds good."