The room was in darkness, save for one corner bathed in orange light. A sound of triumph broke the silence, a groan of defeat accompanying it.
"Why do you always win?" Freddie grumbled, pushing his chess piece over dejectedly.
"Because I'm better at it than you," Bel said simply, a smirk on her face.
The pair were laid on their fronts in Bel's living room, a candle the only source of light. When the electricity had gone off, they had had to find a different way to occupy themselves.
"Well, I don't want to be humiliated again," Freddie sighed, shifting his weight onto his elbows as he looked at her, "why can't we play something I actually have a chance of winning?"
Bel smiled, "alright, I have an idea," the smile slowly turned into a grin, "wait a minute," she told him, standing up and walking to the coffee table.
Freddie sighed, resting his head on his arms as he waited for her return, poking at the chess pieces idly.
"Whiskey? Makes it a little more 'adult' as it were," Bel held a glass of whiskey out to him, taking a sip out of another.
"This sounds like a game I could enjoy," Freddie smirked, sitting up and taking the glass eagerly, "yet, I don't know what this game is," he looked up, gaze questioning.
"Ever played Blind Man's Buff?" Bel asked, taking a mouthful of her drink.
"Well, that's a silly question; I was a child once," Freddie joked, only getting an eye roll in response, "yes, I have played it."
"Well, I have a twist on it."
"Oh, really?"
She raised an eyebrow, "violent."
Freddie snorted, "how violent?"
"Rolled up newspaper violent."
"Ah, nothing potentially life threatening, then."
After several pieces of furniture had been moved, Freddie stood with his eyes closed in the centre of the room.
"You know, I really don't trust you." Bel told him, "you'll cheat."
"Me? Cheat? Never!" he defended, crossing his arms.
Bel snorted, walking towards him and beginning to tug his tie off.
"What are you doing?" he asked, brow furrowed as the material was placed over his eyes.
"Not taking chances," she said lowly, her breath on the back of his neck as she tied a knot.
Freddie felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, but didn't acknowledge it as he made his first attack. He had been the best at 'sword fighting' at school, a skill his eight-year-old self had prided himself on. Blindfolded sword fighting couldn't be that hard.
He swung out, the newspaper slicing through air. He frowned, he was sure he had heard Bel there. After a few more attempts with the same result, he heard a chuckle from behind him. Turning rapidly, he swung the stick out, catching what could have been an arm. He swung again, a muffled 'ow' coming in place of a chuckle.
"Do I win?" he asked, grinning as he removed the blindfold.
The grin faded as he saw Bel's eye was red and bloodshot.
"Are you alright?" he asked, newspaper forgotten on the floor as he stepped towards her, his hand on the side of her face as he looked at her.
"Yes," she blinked a few times, shaking her head, "I'm fine."
"Let's forget the violent version," he told her, turning to shift the newspaper with his foot.
Undoing the knot in his tie, he placed it gently over her eyes, his fingers grazing her cheekbones. He held her gently by her shoulders, turning her around three times before stepping backwards, watching as Bel remained still in the centre of the room. As he shifted his weight, a floorboard squeaked loudly, alerting Bel to his location.
She turned quickly towards the sound, walking forwards quickly on instinct. The steady movement in his direction continued, Freddie backing away, a loud laugh escaping his throat despite his knowing it would give away his location entirely.
And before he knew it, she was falling, flying towards him, making impact. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her up as she regained her balance, her hands pressed gently to his chest. He felt the hairs rise again, pulse increase, his bodies normal reaction to Bel being in close proximity.
His hands moved gently from her back to her waist, their faces inches away from the other. He felt her hand move slowly from his chest to his neck, fingers brushing gently along his skin, goosebumps appearing where her fingers had been. He wondered for a moment if she knew the effect she had on him.
He felt in an almost dreamlike state, seemingly being pulled closer to Bel by some exterior force he couldn't do anything about. He closed his eyes, breathing in as their lips touched.
It was only gentle at first, as if asking permission, not quite sure of themselves or their situation. They had been dancing around the edge of this for as long as they had known each other, neither working up the courage to say or do anything to change it.
Soon their grip was tighter, unyielding as they kissed. His hands pulled her closer, pressed flush against each other, her fingers in the short hair at the back of his neck.
By the time they managed to detach themselves from each other, their breath came in gasps, the floor becoming interesting for both parties.
Freddie turned, drinking the last of the whiskey before grabbing his coat, "I should go, it's getting late, and Dad's probably wondering where I am…"
The awkward silence came back with a vengeance, neither quite sure what to say to the other, both in disbelief at what had just happened.
"Yes, I- I suppose you should. I'll-"
He cut her off, pressing his lips to hers briefly, a grin on his face as he pulled back, "until tomorrow, Moneypenny."
"Stop calling me that!" she called after him, hearing laughter as the door shut.
Polly (en-dejlig-rosa) beta'd this, much to my disdain. As a capital lover, it caused me much pain and discomfort.