I was going to wait until the end and publish all of this at once but it was taking so long! This is my, Molesley's first time, Baxter does some explaining story, it's a series 6 AU. I really hope you like it.
They climbed into bed, each still wearing their nightclothes, lying down on their sides and facing each other. She shuffled forwards slightly, feeling that he was just a little bit further away from her than she'd like. His expression was visibly nervous, and she smiled at him encouragingly.
There had been a night, the Carsons' wedding night in fact, a rather tipsy night, when they had stumbled up the stairs together, lingered together in the doorway, exchanging kisses and holding hands. There had been a moment then, when she'd considered they might end up in bed like this. She was glad they hadn't, she didn't want this to be spoiled or fumbled or only half remembered. But god only knew, the alcohol might have made things a little bit less nerve-wracking.
He'd kept himself sober as a judge at their wedding. One glass of wine for the toasts, and that was all.
"How are you feeling?" she asked him.
"Very happy," he replied quiet, returning her smile.
"That's good," she replied.
Reaching out, she touched his cheek softly and drew his face closer to hers so she could plant a chaste kiss on his mouth.
"I don't want you to be nervous," she told him a moment later.
"I'm not," he replied immediately.
She raised her eyebrow just slightly at him.
"Perhaps a little," he amended.
She smiled at the admission.
"It's alright," she told him, "It's fine to be nervous, but you don't have to be," she had stretched out her arm, resting her hand at the nape of his neck, "Remember, I've chosen to be here with you, no one else. It's you I want."
"I've just-…" he began slowly, and then stopped, "I've thought about this a lot-…"
"Have you?" she asked, teasing him just a little, feeling a little flattered.
"Yes," he replied earnestly, "And I want to make it good for you-…"
He came to a halt as he saw that she was beaming.
"Then it'll be better than it ever has been for me before," she assured him.
He looked a mixture of reassured, and catastrophically not so.
"I've never done this before," he confessed, though she was not surprised.
"That doesn't have to matter," she told him, "There's a first time for everything."
He did not look particularly at ease.
"I'm nervous too," she confessed a moment later, half-joking, allowing it to glint in her eyes, "It's your first time, and I don't want to put you off."
He gave her a small smile at that.
"You won't," he assured her.
She smiled her thanks at him.
"You're so beautiful," he told her, his voice straining a little.
She touched his cheek again.
"Thank you," she told him, and then, a moment later, "I love you."
"I love you too," he told her softly, adding after a thought, "Mrs. Molesley."
She beamed up at him again, leaning in to kiss him. She let her lips linger on his for longer this time, encouraged when he kissed her back. She hummed softly in contentment.
Her arms wrapped over his shoulders at first, gently moving round to stroke over his back. She pressed closer to him as her hands reached his lower back, resting underneath his pyjama shirt when she reached the hem, letting his mouth rest by her forehead, her chin almost touching the top of his chest. Then she lifted her leg up a little, rested it on top of his, only to pull him a little closer, nothing more. And then she stilled completely, just resting beside him, enjoying the closeness.
"Phyllis?"
"Yes, love?" she replied.
"This wasn't-… what I thought it would be like."
"Sorry," she murmured softly, pulling away from him a little, smiling up at him a little wearily, "I got a little bit carried away. I was enjoying myself."
"I didn't mean I didn't like it," he told her, "I was enjoying it too. It was just-…different."
"It's fine," she assured him, "I'm glad you told me it was. It's good to know."
Her hands left the small of his back and she slowly brushed her hands up his chest, over his pyjama shirt. She could feel his heart pounding.
"What have you been expecting?" she asked him, a little abruptly, curious to know.
He coloured a little, and flustered a bit.
"I'm not sure, exactly," he replied, "That it would maybe be-… faster. But I'm glad it's not, really."
"Why did you think it would be fast?" she asked him.
He looked abashed.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," she told him, "I'm just curious."
"Thomas," he said at last, "Gave me a magazine-…"
She raised her eyebrows at that.
"Did he now?" she asked. She could not keep herself from smiling, "I wouldn't believe everything you read in magazines like that. Good Lord, Thomas," she murmured in a low voice, laughing to herself quietly, "He probably meant well, in his own way."
"Probably," he agreed quietly.
She doubted he really wanted to think about Thomas now and she couldn't say she blamed him.
Her hands raised to the buttons at the neck of his pyjamas, undoing them slowly.
"It doesn't have to be fast," she assured him, "It doesn't have to be loud, or-… God knows. It can be whatever we want it to be. Alright?"
He nodded slowly, breathing heavily as the buttons of his pyjamas came undone.
"You ask me anything you wonder about?" she prompted him, looking up into his eyes, "You tell me if there's anything you don't like, or you don't know?"
He nodded fervently.
"Tell me too," he told her, "If you-… If I do anything wrong."
Tugging a little on the front of his pyjamas, she leant up and kissed him again.
"Stop worrying, Joseph," she told him softly.
Her hand slipped inside his pyjama shirt, resting against his chest. His hands were resting tenderly in the small of her back. She drew herself a little closer to him and she heard him groan.
"Kiss me," she asked him quietly.
He bowed his head, kissing her fervently. She gave a soft moan. All the while, her hand against his chest, she could feel his heart hammering. Her fingers stroked gently back and forth over his skin. He gasped in surprise as her fingertips brushed over his nipple.
She smiled again.
"You kiss very well," she told him softly, leaning a fraction away from his lips.
Her leg wrapped a little further over his, pulling him a little closer to her, pushing her hips forward to meet him too. He looked almost as if he were about to thank her, but it was lost in a gasp at the closer contact. Her hand under his shirt, she pushed the sleeve off his arm, stroking his bicep soothingly.
"Have you ever touched yourself?" she asked him quietly.
He coloured furiously.
"It's nothing to be ashamed about," she told him softly, "I'm just wondering how much you know. Women do it too. I've definitely done it-…"
His expression was laboured as he nodded.
Her curiosity got the better of her.
"Did you ever think of me, when-…?"
"Yes," he answered candidly, "All the time."
His honest, his openness surprised her profoundly. She nestled closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to kiss him passionately.
"Well, you have me here now," she promised him.
"I love you," he told her intently.
"I love you too," she replied.
They were quiet together for a few moments, and then, leaning away to look at his face.
"Would you like me to take my nightdress off?" she asked him.
His eyes widened just a touch, and he nodded.
"Yes," he replied, his voice a little gruffer, "Please."
She grinned a little to herself at his politeness. She shifted back a little, pulling her nightdress up and off, letting it drop down onto the floor.
"Do you want to look at me?" she asked softly, her voice quivering a little. She was nervous about this herself, she was hardly twenty any more.
But she you have know, should have known from the yearning in his voice as he said yes, that it would be alright. It would be more than alright.
She guided his hand gently towards her left breast. He covered with his hand, carefully, thoughtfully, moving his fingers to trace her nipple as she had done to him. She smiled at the thought.
"You don't have to be so careful," she told him gently, "It won't hurt me. I'm not going to break."
He pressed a little more firmly.
"Like this?" he asked.
She covered his hand with hers, encouraged him to squeeze her a little. She let out a soft, satisfied breath.
"That feels good," she told him quietly.
Cautiously, his other hand raised to her breast and performed the same motion.
"That feels wonderful," she told him softly a moment later.
"So do you," he told her shyly.
"God, Joseph," she murmured.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing," she replied breathlessly, "Come here."
She reached closer to him, letting their mouths meet, kissing him languidly.
More to come. Please review if you have the time.