Loving Pancakes, a dawson's creek fanfic

A/N: Happy Pancake Day, everyone! If you're not British (or from somewhere else where they celebrate this special day), you're probably wondering what the heck is Pancake Day, right? Well, it's basically an excuse for everyone to fill up on carbs, LOL Since one half of our writing partnership is British, we thought it only fair to create some British Holiday Nookie Fics, too. Thank you for all for your lovely comments and feedback to our latest Holiday Nookie fic! Enjoy our pancakes… served up warm, P/Jo style ;)

** Loving Pancakes **
by M&M Works

Only the very tip of Pacey's tongue peeked out as he ran it lightly along his upper lip, all the while rapidly whisking the batter mixture he held in his hands with a wooden spoon and humming a soft tune under his breath as he worked.

Hearing the front door open then close, he looked over his shoulder in its direction, shifting the bowl to rest in the crook of his left arm as he continued to beat the contents.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted Joey with a wide, warm smile as she joined him in the kitchen. He watched as she shrugged out of her light coat then hooked it, along with her bag, onto the back of a chair before coming to stand beside him.

"Hey, yourself." As she leant up to kiss him, he met her halfway, bending his knees slightly.

"Good day?" He inquired after they pulled back.

Joey shrugged. "Mmm, not bad." She rubbed his lower back with one hand and tried to peek into his bowl to see what he was making. "Whatcha doing?"

"Mixing."

She rolled her eyes at his Captain Obvious remark, and clarified, "Whatcha mixing?"

"Ingredients."

She slapped his back, not amused.

"Hey! What? All you had to do was ask, Jo." He chuckled at the glare she cast him. "Okay, fine. If you must know, I'm makin' us some pancakes. You're just in time."

Joey scrunched up her nose. "You're making pancakes…," she flicked her eyes to the clock above the fridge to confirm that it was indeed dinner time and that time had not gone backwards. "…now?"

"Uh-huh."

She reached up to place a hand on his forehead. "You feeling alright, Pace?"

"Never better," he reassured, rewarding her with a trademark, noisy kiss.

Happy that his ingredients were mixed to perfection, Pacey then moved over to the stove and began pouring the batter into the preheated frying pan which he had ready and waiting. Having to raise his voice to talk over the noise as the contents hit the preheated butter, he asked, "How many do ya want?"

Joey, still confused as to why exactly they were having pancakes at this hour, didn't answer his question but rather asked one of her own. "Pace, you do realize that it's seven in the evening?"

Pacey glanced away from the hot pan long enough to give Joey his best "duh" look.

"And not seven in the morning…," Joey pressed further.

"Yes." Pacey answered very slowly.

Joey placed her hands on her hips. "That's it. Explain the pancakes, Pacey."

"You don't like pancakes?"

"You know I do."

"So?"

"So?! So, why are we having pancakes for dinner?"

Pacey sighed and explained as though talking to a small child. "It's Pancake Day, Jo."

"Pancake what?"

"Pancake Day."

"What's Pancake Day?"

"The day you have pancakes for dinner."

"Says who?"

"Barry."

"Barry?" Joey raised her eyebrows. "Who the heck is Barry?"

"New guy at the restaurant." Judging that one side of the pancake was done, Pacey raised the pan in the air and expertly tossed the crepe over to its other side. "He's British."

Placing the pan back on the stove so the other side could have its turn, he wiped his hands with a dish towel. Seeing the confused look Joey still sported, he offered, raising both hands, "Yeah, I hadn't heard of it either before today. But it's big across the pond. Apparently it's to do with Lent or something. Tradition is to have pancakes today. Who knew?"

Going back to his earlier question, he repeated, "So, how many do you want?"

"Two, please." Joey shook her head and chuckled, "Those crazy Brits."

"Now, now. Easy on the 'crazy', Jo." The pancake now completely cooked, Pacey quickly repeated the process of making more.

"Right. Just because that British lady the other day said you had a sexy accent." Joey strolled over to the cupboard in search of some plates.

"Hey! I do have a sexy voice!" Pacey objected, his voice cracking as it went up an octave.

"Sure, sweetheart," she replied airily and selected the top two plates from the stack. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Aw, you know what helps me sleep at night," he said suggestively. Noticing what she was doing, he stopped her. "We don't need any plates."

"We don't?" Joey wondered, even though she put the plates back. "And just how do you plan on eating these pancakes? Straight from the pan?"

Pacey shook his head, taking the pile of freshly cooked delights to the kitchen table. "Not exactly," he replied nonchalantly.

He set the plate down and then, ever so slowly, turned until he was facing Joey directly. As his eyes met hers, it was as though a switch had suddenly been flicked in the room, stripping all its oxygen while sending an electric current straight through her body, the fire she saw there was that intense.

Joey gulped.

"Strip," Pacey commanded; the tone of his voice brooked neither argument nor negotiation.

Yet, still, she did not meekly comply.

After all, she wouldn't be Joey Potter if she did.

She barked out a laugh at the bizarre change in events. "Strip?"

Pacey nodded and began to walk purposely to where she stood, leisurely looking her up and down as he stalked toward her before focusing his eyes on hers and locking them tightly in place. His look of extreme lust caused Joey to instinctively take a step backward, leaving her no choice but to press her back firmly against the counter, trapped.

"Get naked, Jo. Now."

Another gulp.

"Pacey?" She breathed out nervously.

By now, Pacey had reached his target; he used one hand to brush aside several wisps of hair from her forehead then tucked them tenderly behind one ear, his gentle actions in direct contrast to the look of raw passion on his face.

"Relax, sweetheart. I won't bite," he assured – although his next word eradicated any reassurance she may have taken.

"Yet."

He lowered his head and rumbled hotly in her ear, "Either you strip, or I strip you. But if I do it… I can't promise that this dress will be in any shape to wear again."

Then he sealed his threat with a savage lick of his tongue as he swiped along the shell of her ear before attacking the flesh with his front teeth and firmly nibbling along the lobe. "And I know how much you like it."

Joey shivered uncontrollably, not sure if the "it" he was referring to was her dress or his current actions.

All she knew was he'd made her instantly and utterly wet; she didn't even try to suppress the loud moan he elicited from her.

She loved it when he got all dominant on her.

Obviously deciding that she'd taken too long to make her choice, Pacey made it for her. Before she knew it, he'd reached behind her and roughly yanked her zipper, so hard she was certain she heard the tell-tale ripping sound. Next came her panties and, using his teeth, he tugged them over her hips and down her long legs before twisting his neck and tossing the garment behind them with an expelled breath. A flick of his wrist made short work of her bra.

He stood tall and stepped back to admire his work. "Much better."

His voice was all male; pure wicked erotica.

Running warm hands down her arms, he snaked his hands around her small waist and lifted her from her floor, the movement so sudden it caused her to gasp out loud. She wrapped her arms around his neck to hold on as her high heels tumbled to the floor behind her. Then she pulled his mouth to hers in a torrid, liquid kiss – this time stealing his breath away.

Pacey, lips still attached to Joey's, maneuvered them to the kitchen table and carefully placed her down. Once she'd settled, he moved slightly to one side to give himself enough room to pick up the plate of pancakes.

At Joey's curious look, Pacey elucidated, "Told ya we didn't need plates."

And, with that, he selected the top pancake and dropped it straight onto Joey's stomach.

Joey let out another gasp at the unexpected gesture and half sat up, causing the warm, fluffy flat cake to slide down her tummy a little. When she next looked to Pacey's face, the look she saw reflected there told her that he was very happy indeed with where Mr. Pancake was now located.

In fact, it was probably his plan for it to end up there all along - to keep his place warm.

A can of whipped cream materialized before her eyes - one which Joey hadn't noticed present earlier on the table – the lid plucked off by his talented, multitasking mouth. Giving it a firm shake, Pacey placed his finger on the nozzle and began to decorate Joey's upper body. He took his sweet time, starting at the valley between her breasts, focusing, of course, on her nipples, then down to her, ahem, pancake.

Next he grabbed a tub of ice-cream, something else Joey had failed to notice, and scooped out a large spoonful before dunking it right over her bellybutton.

"Pacey!" Joey protested, shuddering.

"Cold, huh?" He acknowledged huskily. "Never fear, my love, I'll take care of that in just a minute."

Finally, he retrieved a jar of cherries – yet another item, which by now Joey was not surprised to see him produce from somewhere behind her head - and removed the lid. With calculated precision, Pacey inspected each cherry, only electing the finest ones. He strategically placed them over her body, embedding them in the whipped cream towers.

Then, once again, he stepped back to admire his work.

"Yep," he decided. "Definitely good enough to eat."

Joey decided that it was time to take back some degree of control in this situation.

When Pacey began to divest himself of clothes, she stopped him. "Not so fast, Witter," the breathy quality to her voice as she admired his huge, prominent bulge completely ruining the effect for which she was going.

As expected, Pacey didn't stop. Instead, he simply raised his eyebrows in a silent question as he gradually peeled off his shirt and jeans.

She cast her gaze down her body over his artwork and then returned to his face. "I said I wanted two pancakes."

Now completely naked, Pacey's lips curled - very, very slowly; he wet his lips and tilted his head to one side, eyes twinkling. "Oh, I wasn't talking about pancakes, Potter."

Joey's face remained blank before her mouth morphed into an "O" shape as realization dawned.

Damn, she cursed inwardly; she should have asked for more.

Before she had time to voice this, however, Pacey had positioned himself between her legs causing Joey to lose her entire train of thought. He lowered his head and ran his hands reverently along the inside of her thighs, his thumbs dancing across the ever-so-silky skin.

He fixed his eyes upon hers and they shared a secret smile, just one amongst the countless they'd shared together before.

Without words, he spoke volumes, talking directly to her heart, her soul.

He voiced endless, limitless, undivided love.

He expressed unreserved and complete devotion.

He sought hopeful permission.

He offered himself, humbly, passionately, willingly.

And she, in turn, replied, answering him with her own words of adoration and absolute trust.

Those thumbs that had been dancing across her thighs were now dancing elsewhere; intimately stroking her, right there, to be exact. Head dropped, he added his tongue to the mix and alternated between licking and sucking. The complete contrast of sensations - from the soft, thick whipped cream, adding to her natural lubrication and the slight grating from the uneven surface of the pancake, in a place she'd never before imagined having one – had her completely undone.

Helpless but to close her eyes and lift her hips causing her legs to open further to him, she gripped the edges of the table giving him free reign to work his magic. A bite of the sweet cake, a lick of her honey to top it, he consumed her until she felt the waves within her begin to swell as he expertly brought her to the edge of nirvana. With a deft flick of his tongue, in just the right spot, she careened over, chasing his name with a moan of supreme pleasure.

While she slowly came back down, she felt him pepper kisses along her tummy in a pattern random but for the general upward direction. She heard his groans of approval, and then satisfaction, as he nibbled pieces of the still warm pancake and tunneled his tongue through the almost melted ice cream in her belly button, swallowing noisily.

Selecting one of the larger cherries, he popped it into his mouth and shimmied himself up her body, such that his head was now above hers. She couldn't help but giggle at the sight he made – hair disarrayed, a piece of pancake stuck to his chest and a blob of ice cream on the end of his nose.

Smiling a pure Pacey smile, he waggled his eyebrows and brought his mouth down onto hers, feeding her the cherry with a kiss. As she graciously chewed then consumed her treat, he breathed in her ear, "That's one, sweetheart."

She knew he wasn't talking about cherries.

She watched in silent fascination as he broke off a piece of the pancake and dabbed it in the remaining peaks of whipped cream. Lightly rubbing it against her swollen lips, she obediently parted them enough for him to begin to feed her. She chewed each bite delicately then proceeded to clean his fingers of the residual sweetness, wrapping her tongue around each long digit and sucking thoroughly. His fingers embedded in her mouth, he turned his attention to her breasts, for his own meal. He hungrily laved her hard nubbins, running the flat of his tongue over the sensitive skin around them, over and over.

It wasn't long before he had Joey writhing underneath him, her own pancake meal completely forgotten.

"Pacey," she panted, sliding her hands to his hips, tugging.

He looked up at her cry and acknowledged her need knowingly, massaging himself between her folds in a wicked tease, "Ready for seconds, huh?"

He took her whimper as an affirmative and, positioning himself at her entrance, he pulled her hips to the edge of table. Without any preamble he thrust inside and with one, firm stroke he was fully seated; their joint cry of mutual satisfaction echoed throughout the kitchen.

Once more, Pacey led the dance; his rhythm fast, strong, steady. Gradually, he braced himself more fully over her, careful to keep from crushing her. Their lower bodies became fused together by the residue of the whipped cream and sweat from their passion.

Pacey now had perfect access to Joey's neck, one of his favorite spots, and lovingly kissed her; while his hips never missed a beat as he rolled, circled, rocked – steadily thrusting deeper and deeper, harder and harder.

From this angle and the rhythm he'd set, again it didn't take long before Joey was panting her lover's name. The feeling of being so deep inside her, as she spasmed and clenched around him while she let go, never ceased to amaze him; as did her look of pure love as she gave herself over completely.

If he could stay like this, in this moment, forever, he would.

He didn't think it was possible to love someone as much as he loved this woman.

She was his everything.

Determined to prolong her pleasure, he kept up the pace, stroking long and firm until he felt himself swell and tingle; pushing out a groan, one filled with confessions of love, he delivered one final thrust a heartbeat before following her over. His eyes rolled back, and it was his turn to shout out her name.

Dragging in long, full breaths as they recovered, they entwined their limbs – reluctant to lose their connection. Joey rubbed her nose along Pacey's and mumbled contentedly, "M'likin' this whole Pancake Day tradition."

Pacey nuzzled her back. "Not so crazy now, huh?"

Joey chuckled, "Not so much, no." She tongued his ear. "But you are so replacing my dress, Witter."

Much later, after partaking in another round of "pancake eating" – Pacey insisting they had to taste test the entire batch – they found themselves spooned together in bed, on the verge of sleep.

Joey shifted slightly so she could reach the bedside table and opened the side door. Retrieving the item she wanted, she pulled it out.

"Whatcha doin'?" Pacey's sleepy voice rumbled behind her. He opened one eye to see what she held in her hands.

"I'm still a little bit sticky," Joey admitted with a little laugh. She balled up the apron and was about to start wiping her stomach when Pacey halted her movements.

"Uh, uh, uhhhh! Just what do you think you're doing, Potter?"

"Cleaning myself."

"Not with that you're not," Pacey stated emphatically. He plucked the apron safely from her hands. "Always respect the apron, Jo."

Joey rolled her eyes, but softened the gesture with a sexy smile. "Fine, then. Just how am I supposed to clean myself, hmmm?"

Once again, only the very tip of Pacey's tongue peeked out as he ran it lightly along his upper lip.

He returned a sexy smile of his own.

"Oh, I'm sure I can come up with something."

** THE END **

Smile by Uncle Kracker

You're better then the best
I'm lucky just to linger in your light
Cooler then the flip side of my pillow, that's right
Completely unaware
Nothing can compare to where you send me,
Lets me know that it's ok, yeah it's ok
And the moments where my good times start to fade

You make me smile like the sun
Fall out of bed, sing like bird
Dizzy in my head, spin like a record
Crazy on a Sunday night
You make me dance like a fool
Forget how to breathe
Shine like gold, buzz like a bee
Just the thought of you can drive me wild
Ohh, you make me smile

Even when you're gone
Somehow you come along
Just like a flower poking the sidewalk crack and just like that
You steal away the rain and just like that

Don't know how I lived without you
Cuz everytime that I get around you
I see the best of me inside your eyes
You make me smile
You make me dance like a fool
Forget how to breathe
Shine like gold, buzz like a bee
Just the thought of you can drive me wild