This one-shot was written for the Fic-a-Pic contest. All entries and a link to the picture prompt are posted on the profile: http:/www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/~ficapiccontest.
It's kind of a dual thing, a contest entry and a Valentine's Day one-shot. I stole one joke from Demetri Martin. Hope you enjoy it!
A Sticky Situation
"I hate Valentine's Day," I groan, walking into my midtown Manhattan apartment. "It's not even until tomorrow, and I already hate it."
I slam the door shut behind me, chucking my purse at the wall. Somehow it feels a little more satisfying when the contents of my bag spill all over the floor. I even sort of smile as I kick my mascara across the room, watching it ricochet off the coffee table and into a wall. I can clean it up later.
I consider kicking something else when a quiet laugh brings my attention to the beautiful man reading a magazine on the living room couch—one Edward Cullen, business student and my live-in boyfriend of four months. He smiles at me, but I've had a crappy day working at my crappy retail job, and I'm not going to let his cuteness distract me from my rage.
"Hi, sweetie," Edward says, tossing his magazine onto the end table. "How was work?" I pout at him, and possibly stomp my foot. Just a little.
"I hate this job, Edward. I hate it, I hate it!"
"Good day, then?" my boyfriend says with a grin. I ignore him.
"I mean, all of these stupid men! It's like they all flock to the damn Hallmark store, just to annoy me." I toss my hands in the air, quite aware that I'm being dramatic but not caring enough to stop. After more than a year together, Edward's seen more of my work rants than I'd care to think about. "It's bad enough when they forget to get their wives or girlfriends a present until the last possible second and want me to help them, but the single guys… I mean, do they really think I'm desperate enough to fall for their pick up lines?"
"My day was good," he says, hooking his finger into my belt loop as I'm walking past and pulling me down onto his lap. "Very busy. Thanks for asking."
"Edward," I groan, resting my hand against his chest.
"Yes, love?"
"A guy actually asked me if I had a mirror in my pocket."
"Because he could see himself in your pants?" Edward frowns and slides his hand around my waist. "That's not even clever."
"I was behind the register, too!" I finally let myself collapse against him, wrinkling my nose when my cheek hits the scratchy collar of his oxford shirt. "He couldn't even see my pants."
Edward snorts. "And you only fall for pick up lines that follow logic."
"Exactly," I mumble. Sliding my hand up his chest, I squeeze his shoulder, enjoying the way his arm pulls me a little closer when I do. "You're a business guy. You should figure out a way to make grad school pay for itself. Rent, too."
Edward laughs and hugs me. "I'll talk to my boss about it tomorrow."
Enough of my rage is diffused by now that I can enjoy this. I hug him back tightly, letting out a warm sigh when I feel him kiss my head. As much as my job blows and as annoyed I am with this stupid corporate mess of a holiday, it's okay as long as I have Edward to come home to at the end of the day. He is my happy place, scratchy collar and all.
"It's just all so fake, you know?" I tilt my head up so I can see his face. "I mean, I know you love me. I don't need you to buy me magnetic teddy bears to prove it. What happened to creativity? Why don't any of these guys… I don't know. Take their wives on a surprise vacation or… hell, make a scrapbook."
I curl back up against Edward as we laugh together. He combs his fingers through my hair, and I sigh, because this is exactly what I needed today.
"Well," Edward says after a few quiet minutes, running his hand from my neck down my back and up again, "I hope you don't hate everything about Valentine's Day. Otherwise I should probably cancel those dinner reservations for tomorrow." Edward's fingers continue their up and down on my back, just lightly scratching. I curl my legs up onto his and shake my head.
"After today? I hate all of it."
Leaning closer, Edward kisses my earlobe. "Even the presents?" He continues his kisses, small and quick, down my neck and toward my mouth. I gently push his face away, even as I stifle a giggle.
"Ugh. You know how I feel about presents."
"What about the flowers?" Edward asks, mumbling through my fingers.
"They just die anyway after a few days," I say. My lips twitch up into a smile when Edward raises an eyebrow. His fingers loosely circle my wrist, holding my hand against his mouth, and I feel rather than see him smirk.
"The chocolates?"
I pause. He knows me way too well, and given his shit-eating grin right now, he knows that, too. "Okay, I hate most things about Valentine's Day," I admit, pulling my hand back only to poke his nose. "And don't you dare cancel those reservations. That place is delicious."
Edward smiles and cups my jaw. For a moment he just looks at me, brushing his thumb under my eye and along my cheek. Times like this, I'm struck by just how handsome he is. His hair is a disaster and he hasn't shaved since yesterday morning, and he's still the most handsome man I've ever seen. I find myself watching his lips as he pushes a piece of hair behind my ear.
It's clearly been too long since I've kissed him. I'm a deprived woman.
My eyes have just started to drift closed when suddenly, Edward's hand is gone from my face. Sliding an arm under my butt, he lifts me off his lap and sets me on the couch. Then he stands up and moves.
"Hey," I whine. "Where are you going?"
Leaning over the armrest, Edward smoothes my hair, sliding his hand down my arm until he finds my fingers. "What would you say if I asked you to meet me on the roof in twenty minutes?" he asks, chewing on the inside of his lip.
I shrug. "I'd say 'you're weird', but okay. Why?"
"Well, um..." He laughs quietly, looking down at our joined hands. "Can you meet me on the roof in twenty minutes?" Then he glances up again. His lids are heavy, and I find myself nodding before I even really think about what he said. Then I frown.
"What am I supposed to do until then?"
Edward shrugs. "Why don't you go change into something warmer? Maybe take a quick shower?"
"Are you saying I smell bad?"
He rolls his eyes, smoothing out the wrinkle in my nose with his finger. "That's exactly what I'm saying," he mutters, leaning closer to me. He makes a point to obviously sniff my hair when he does it, and I swat at his shoulder.
"Jerk." And then he kisses me, just a slow push of lips against lips.
"I'll see you up there in twenty," he mumbles against my mouth. One more kiss and he's gone, strolling into the kitchen with a spring in his step.
My boyfriend is such a weirdo.
Even though I'm suspicious, and I'm not typically one for surprises, I can't help but smile to myself as I tie my hair up into a messy bun. Edward, as absurdly good looking as he is, is kind of a goofball. We met almost eighteen months ago when we were both in our senior year at Columbia, and though it took me a while to get used to it, I've learned to take his little surprises in stride. No matter what we end up doing, I know we'll have fun together. That's all that really matters.
I'm only in the shower long enough to wash the greeting card glitter off my skin. That stuff is worse than herpes. Quickly drying off, I move toward the dresser. Since it's February, I put on my thickest pair of pajama pants, a fleece pullover and some rubber soled slippers, and I'm ready to go. I all but jog up the steps in my excitement to see him, miraculously only tripping once toward the top of the stairway.
The rooftop access was the selling point for this building when we moved in. Our apartment isn't very big, but it's big enough for the two of us; and from the roof, we can see Queens from across the East River. It's pretty incredible for a girl who spent most of her life in small town Washington.
Pushing open the door, I slide the brick into place so we won't get locked out, and see Edward sitting on the edge of the far corner, staring toward the river. He's still wearing his work clothes, even putting on his suit jacket again, and holds a Heineken between two fingers. He looks at once remarkably serious and also spaced out.
Though the urge is strong to sneak up on him is strong, I don't want to accidentally scare him off the roof, so I call out as I walk toward him:
"What are you thinking about?"
Edward narrows his eyes, leaning forward and taking a sip of his beer. "I think I see a garbage can floating in the river," he says. "Or maybe a canoe? It's hard to tell from here."
I laugh and cringe at the same time. "That wouldn't surprise me." The East River is possibly even dirtier than the Hudson, littered with garbage and other generally disgusting items. It might be beautiful to look at from our roof, but it's still gross.
Turning to me and smiling, Edward slides off the ledge to his feet. When I look down at my pajamas, I'm momentarily self-conscious at how frumpy I look compared to him, but he's seen me in far worse. His grin gets a little bigger as he takes in my clothes, and any insecurity melts away. As unfairly handsome as he might be, this man wants to be with me. I'm certainly not going to argue with that.
It isn't until Edward's hand reaches out to touch my waist that I see what else he brought up here while I was in the shower. There's an unzipped sleeping bag, a pile of blankets, some pillows, and a grocery bag piled up right in the center of the rooftop.
"What's all this?" I ask, leaning into his side and grabbing his beer to take a sip. Edward slides his hand up to my elbow and walks me over to the pile. We sit down together on the sleeping bags, face to face, and he hands me a blanket to pull over my shoulders.
"Well I didn't exactly have time to plan a surprise vacation, so I thought maybe… we could go rooftop camping?" Reaching behind him, Edward grabs the grocery bag. "I got some marshmallows," he says, setting each item on the blanket between us as he names it, "err, some take out chopsticks to be our skewers, a chocolate bar, and one of those big ass candles your mom got us to act as our campfire." Edward looks up and gives me a shy grin. His cheeks are just barely pink. "We didn't have any graham crackers, but I did grab some beer—"
I don't even let Edward finish before I climb up on my knees and attack. My lips find his and the only thing that keeps us from knocking over his half-finished beer is his reflexes. His mouth presses back against mine just as hard, but when I feel his tongue against my bottom lip, I pull back. I peck his lips a few more times and mumble, "You are such a dork," smiling against his mouth. What I really mean is I love you more than I can really say, and when he palms my cheek as he gives me one more kiss, I know he understands.
Sitting back, I help him pull off his suit jacket and undo the top few buttons of his shirt. He kicks off his shoes, and I rearrange the blankets so we're both covered while he lights the candle with a lighter. It blows out a few times before we move until our backs are to the wind.
After handing me a set of wooden chopsticks, Edward rips open the bag of marshmallows and skewers one on the end of my stick for me. I guess they're not exactly s'mores without the graham crackers, but the chocolate and the marshmallows are the best part anyway. I have no complaints.
"You first, m'lady?" Edward says, pointing his chopstick toward the candle.
"M'lady?" I giggle and hold my marshmallow over the tiny flame. "I guess it's better than ma'am."
I rotate my chopstick and lean against Edward's warm body, grinning when I get it to the perfect golden brown color. I pop it in my mouth with a small piece of chocolate and close my eyes to fully savor the deliciousness. This might be the best idea Edward's ever had. He's so smart.
At least that's what I think until I open my eyes again. Edward has apparently set his marshmallow on fire and is just watching it bubble and blacken with a smile.
"You're burning it!" I mumble, quickly swallowing the rest of my half-s'more. I poke at his marshmallow with my chopstick, trying to get it away from the flame, but Edward just pulls it up to his face. He stares at for a second and then blows the small fire out. His chopstick is actually black at the tip. All in all, it looks pretty damn disgusting.
"That's because it tastes so much better burnt," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "The inside is all melted and sticky. It's delicious."
"Gross," I say, wrinkling my nose.
Grinning, Edward brings his blackened marshmallow up toward my mouth. I seal my lips shut and shake my head. "Come on, Bella, try it." I shake my head again and holding my hand over my mouth. It does in fact smell kind of awesome, but I can't tell him that. "Just trust me," he pleads, shifting until our thighs are completely flush.
"No way," I say.
Of course, my boyfriend never plays fair. Using his free hand, Edward traces my jaw line with a finger and then gently moves my hand away from my face. He leans closer, and between the candle-roasted marshmallow and the smell of him, I'm on the verge of going pheromone crazy.
"Please?" he asks softly, holding the black thing in the small space between our faces.
When he touches his finger to my bottom lip, I admit defeat and open my mouth. I wrap my lips around the marshmallow and am surprised when the melted center comes out through the burnt skin. It's not as good as my golden marshmallows, but it still tastes pretty good. I start to lick my lips, getting the marshmallow off the corners. Edward doesn't let me finish. Moving forward just a few inches, Edward tastes my top lip before kissing me in earnest. My head tilts to the side automatically. I sigh when he runs his tongue along the inside of my lower lip, on my teeth, my tongue. My fingers slide into his mess of hair, and I am just about to pull his face closer when he pulls away, licking the remaining marshmallow off his own lips with a satisfied grin...
"See? Delicious—"
... except I'm not done kissing him yet. Edward might know exactly what to do to turn me to sexually frustrated mush, but he always underestimates my stubbornness. Though given the loud moan he lets out when I press my open mouth to his, I have a feeling I might still be playing into his plan. Oh well. At least this way, I get to make out with him.
Edward leans back and my legs settle on either side of his waist. His tongue tastes just faintly of chocolate, and I only break away from his mouth to set a tiny piece of chocolate on my tongue. Edward sits up and meets me halfway, my ponytail holder getting lost somewhere as he pushes his hands into my hair and holds my face against his. We exchange chocolaty kisses, groping and grabbing at each other, bodies entwined on the sleeping bag. Even with the blankets draped over us, the cold February air raises goosebumps on my neck and shoulders. Edward does his best to kiss them all away, making me shiver for a very different reason.
In this moment, we're no longer twenty-four year olds who have done this dance a hundred times before. We're feeling around like teenagers. Our movements are rough, uneven, and while sex with him is always wonderful, there's something so empowering about feeling his hips jerk up against mine in instinct, knowing that I'm the only one who gets to see him uncontrolled and sloppy like this.
I lick a smudge off chocolate off Edward's chin and slide my hands down his pants to grab his ass, and when he pushes me onto my back we both groan, continuing to rock against each other. With the simple pressure of his hands against my breasts, all of today's frustrations disappear. My hormones have taken over my brain.
It's too cold, and way too public, to be completely naked, so we make do. Edward shoves my pajama pants down with one hand, using his other to undo the buttons on his work pants, and it only takes seconds for him to move up and in, and I groan at the feel of him, of this. My pajamas are stuck on my ankle, but I'm too caught up in him to care.
"Best idea ever," Edward says over a moan.
I press my mouth against his and we half-laugh, half-kiss as our hips continue their rhythm. It's fast and hard, and I love him and he loves me. In a brief moment of lucidity, I see that Edward has chocolate on his nose. My foot finally shakes my pants free when I wrap my legs around his waist. In only a matter of minutes, I get to experience one of my favorite things in the world, watching Edward come apart above me, eyes widening as his mouth falls open, my own orgasm still sending jolts of warmth throughout my body.
"I love you," Edward says, still breathing heavily into my neck.
His body sort of falls away from mine, and he lays out on the blanket beside me. I laugh and curl up against him, kissing him and repeating his 'I love you' back to him. I wipe the bit off chocolate off his nose and grin.
"Hey, Edward?"
"Yeah, Bells," he says with a smile, his arm around my waist tugging me closer still. I lean down to kiss him quickly, moving my lips across his cheek and whisper into his ear:
"I think I'm starting to change my mind on this whole Valentine's Day thing."
So, yes. A little pointless and a lot fluffy, but I hope it made you smile. Happy Valentine's!