Author Notes: This is just a little bit of fun. Fluff Mini One-Shot.
Fits in with the Prompt for 'The Morning After their second first time'
Bacon and Eggs
By Atheniandream / Redwineonavanillaskye
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The first sense that awakens her is the smell. The de-evolved, guttural calling of meat, of sweet and salty bacon wafting into the grey toned room that surrounds her.
The next sense, comes as a sound, a rising sizzle, that fizzes and dissipates into the little crack of space that the door leaves open.
After that, the light is finally pressing at her eyes, as she peels her right eye open to witness the covers drawn only half way and a swooped indent into crumpled white sheets that she hasn't yet begun to recognise.
She stretches, feeling muscles awaken and the kind of aches that bring a smile rather than a frown, as she rises, bringing the top sheet to her curves as she sits on the bed.
The sliding doors have been pulled to about an inch and a half gap, showing part of the lounge. Mostly likely left open to avoid the clatter. The action speaks of their change in one another's lives. She smiles to herself, rubbing at her face, before her eyes occupy the light grey voiles that obscure the view she's never really seen from this angle.
Yet.
She's not seen it yet. And some of her would be inclined to hang onto the doubt, still, after everything. She's been that way for so long that no matter the amount of change between them, she still seems to default to that state of mind.
She breathes out, spotting his shirt still hanging on the chair. She wonders what he's chosen to wear as she slips over to the garment, pulling it along one arm. It smells of him. Warm and distinct and familiar. She wonders how she could possibly be affected by a smell that she's been around for over a decade. But then, she's seldom been this close, until now. Until last night, to be exact.
She stretches, rolling up the sleeves to the elbow. She forgets, that for a man taller than her he's almost as narrow. They are akin to skinny teenagers, in their older years.
She pulls the doors apart, padding, bare legged towards the smell and the sound. She pauses, revelling in the view.
Harvey,
In his white vest and boxers, the tanned skin of his muscular arms in view,
Half concentrating,
On Bacon,
And the mere promise of eggs.
He notices her immediately, a smirk pulling at his face as his eyes soften.
She matches it, noticing that he looks so youthful in that moment. There is no harshness to his physicality, no hard setting in his jaw. She finds her smile bending into one of mirth, watching him look back at her with a finality, his hair sticking up, his eyes soft and overtaken, almost.
She folds her hair over her right shoulder, wandering over to the edge of the kitchenette counter, before looking directly at him. He follows her directive, as the sizzle of bacon dissipates into the air and his hand skirts the edge of the counter top.
"Morning." He greets. She barely manages to sense the slight excitement in his voice. Too overcome with the contradictory look in his eyes, that fleets across his face and lands in that twisted smirk she's grown to love in every way possible.
His fingers play against the counter in a sporadic rhythm as they both meet at the corner. He sweeps her against him with one quick hand, their chests brushing one another's as their breaths hiss against the firm press.
She smells him, the smell of ripe sex from the night before and yet seemingly calmly, as if the impulse has started to settle. But there is still a stir, a flash of them as his lips brush against hers with a palpable aching.
Her hands fold against his shoulders, pulling him into her as his head angles down to deepen their kiss and accommodate her true height, a good few inches away from his.
They've not quite got the 'morning greeting' down yet. Like two young lovers, they still seem insatiable for one another.
She breaks the kiss, the smell of bacon changing into that of a wakeup call.
She smiles against his lips as they brush past hers to attend to the slightly burning smell.
"Is that breakfast?" She enquires, changing the subject as her body hums for more of the same kind of contact.
"You like bacon, right?" He checks, looking to her.
She smiles, witnessing his tells showing. "Yeah. I love bacon." She replies, her head tilting.
"Just wanted to check you hadn't become a vegan or something since the last time we had dinner." He shrugs.
"Nope." She states, a goofy awkwardness. "Still a pig murderer. Guilty as charged." She confirms with a self-consciousness, watching as he flips the meat onto its pinker side, flipping her a smile in the process.
He smirks into the pan, before looking around himself and then to her. He takes a moment, before seemingly checking himself within a thought and stretches, his hand flicking a cupboard open and pulling out a light blue mug. He turns the heat down on the stove and walks to the coffee machine, where she watches him press a button, and then draws his attention back to the bacon and the yellow carton of eggs nearby, the smell of coffee erupting into the large open-plan room.
She arches an eyebrow at him, covering her shock at not even having to ask. It makes her go to him, the enjoyment in his pre-empting her needs, as she pads over to his form, sliding a hand across the middle of his back. He hums in enjoyment, his back straightening so he can bend back towards her, his face regarding her as his lips make themselves welcome against hers for a brief kiss.
She slides a hand over his shoulder, as he returns his attention to cooking, them both watching the bacon begin to caramelise in the pan.
"Are there going to be eggs...with this bacon?" She asks with an expectant smirk, deliberately ignoring the carton nearby.
"What is Bacon….without eggs?" He questions, humour-laden and besting her with his trademarked smirk.
She smiles then, the analogy not lost on her as her hand slides against the side of his neck.
"We've already become one of 'those' couples...haven't we?" He asks, looking to her with an earnest.
"Maybe. But then, we've both been something else for so long...let's just enjoy this, hmmm?" She offers, her hands sliding around to his front as her head props against his shoulder.
He seems to settle, as she holds onto him, their breaths mingling as he finishes off the rendering of fat. His hand even curls against her left one as his right one flips the spatula.
It's like a metaphor,
The rendering of all that their relationship had lasted with, but never really needed.
They are now the 'fat' of their long simmering romance...
She smells the coffee again, as she disconnects from him, marching over to the coffee machine to pluck her mug from the drip tray. She bends to the fridge, pulling out some creamer.
"Is that my shirt?" He accuses playfully, noticing the monogrammed 'H.S' on the sleeve, before covering the question with information. "Vanilla's to your right." he says, moving past her with a slight brush of hands on her hips as he steals two plates.
She smiles, ignoring his question and plucks the little bottle of syrup out of the cupboard, looking back at him as she pours a drop or three into her mug.
"Do you want another coffee?" She offers, smirking into her mug as she observes him move back to the stove, the carton carefully placed alongside, as he heats up another pan.
He pauses, thinking on the question with the crack of each egg.
Obviously, they both know he's already had his first one, but sometimes he likes a second. And last night, and the very early morning after had been...eventful...cardio-ridden.
The eggs start to sizzle, that whipped up sound breaking his train of thought as he transfers the spatula from the first pan into the second, whilst turning the second off.
She watches as he pours a little more oil in the pan, the eggs bubbling and rising into two distinctly different shapes. He flips them, turning the heat down, before wandering over to her, observing her give him a look for his silence, and innocently takes her cup, observing with a playfulness, her mock shocked expression at him taking a sip of her own coffee.
"What you're doing right there, is a literal crime. That is my first one of the day." She accuses, pointing to her coffee with an mock-admonishing look.
"But you make it better than I do." He encourages, a look of innocence on his face, as he returns the cup into her capable hands, passing over to the eggs to fix them.
"I'm not your Assistant anymore, Harvey." She notes, sipping her coffee once more.
"I know that...but do we have to give up on all of our traditions? My morning coffee, for instance?" He offers, his smile bending when she raises an eyebrow at the mere idiocy of such a thing.
"You are sooo stuck in a routine." She says, making run of him.
"I'm stuck on you...in my routine." He corrects, humouring her.
She chuckles, covering her face with another sip of coffee as she watches him assemble the two plates.
She takes a moment, observing the amount of attention that he gives things. He uses detail in every facet of his life, and care in execution of all things. It could be putting together a case, or dressing himself in the morning. For everything he cares about, their is a focused amount of attention.
She smiles to herself, reveling in their position in one another's lives.
They fit. Finally.
As if they had always been waiting to get to this place, their requirements in one another never quite matching up to their previous positions in one another's lives, until this very point.
He looks to her for a moment, noticing a strange silence in her, his eyes interested and his smile playful as he places some cold toast onto each plate.
"You okay there?" He asks her, flicking the crumbs off of his hands into the sink.
She smiles, her entire face bending into the warmest of tooth laden grins. She nods, a continued silence making him turn the entire way around to her, as he takes a step towards her. His cheekbones twitch with a smirk, as he gently slides a hand around her coffee, placing it on the kitchen counter beside them, before drawing his attention back to her.
He presses her against the counter, his face charting a slightly predatory gaze as he licks his lips.
Her eyes widen, a frisson of electricity buzzing between them like a socket and a plug, as his hands skirt the soft edges of his shirt, as it rides up her smooth pale thighs.
His face bends to plant a kiss on her lips, his mouth encouraging hers to open a little more with the slightest of nudges. Her hands slide to his head, her dark fingernails scratching gently against his messy hair and scalp, as he hums in enjoyment, their lips and teeth and tongues fighting playfully for an advantage over the other, before he succumbs to a side thought, and his mouth slips, sucking at her neck as he grinds deliberately against her.
"What about the bacon and eggs?" She breathes, panting against him when his mouth hits that spot. Right above her left clavicle...
"They can wait…" He mumbles against her skin, making her shiver. "You...are far more appetising." He tells her.
For those looking for Chapter 5 of 'Donna' I'm on it! A xox