****He walks into a darkened room, lit only by candlelight, and can see
nothing. Then she comes out, almost luminescent. Some nights, they sit and
talk like a normal couple, about life, philosophies, medicine, the past,
the present, and the future. They stay up all night talking, until the
candles run low and the bottle of wine she had chilled is empty.
But tonight is not one of those nights.
Tonight, as soon as she enters the room from behind him silently, he can sense her presence, and turns to greet her, opening his mouth for verbal introduction.
But she has other plans.
She places a hand gently on his mouth, averting all speech and giving him the signal that there will be no words tonight. Tonight will be their night of romance and remembrance.
He leans forward and presses his lips against her soft full ones, tangling his hands in her blazing hair as she steps into the curve of his body, fitting against him like a piece of a puzzle.
She smiles against his mouth, and walks him slowly backward to a bed, unforeseen before. Lips still up against his, she reaches down and begins to unbutton the shirt he is wearing, brushing his chest with butterfly wings as she moves. Each time she touches him tiny sparks feel as though they have ignited on his skin, and his breath quickens, much to his dismay. He likes to be able to keep a cool tone with women, trying to maintain the idea that this is just old news for him. But she knows better.
And she smiles her secretive smile down at him as he loses control of his own being slightly faster as her hands drop down further and undo clasps, buttons and snaps that bar the way to the rest of his body.
Once she finishes, her mouth trails away from his and sinks down over his chest, planting gentle drops and making him crazy. She knows just how to touch him to ensure that he can't let her continue, but can't let her stop either. Years of this should make him know that it is a lost cause, but still he tries to keep some semblance of calm as she hits the pressure points, staring up at the ceiling in an attempt to catch his breath, not able to look down but needing so desperately too.
Finally, his self restraint fades completely and he grasps her shoulders, pulling her up from where she had just been planting tantalizing kisses down his stomach. In another moment, she would have killed him completely, and he wanted to have rational thought tonight, to be able to show her he could be a suitable partner for her.
He turned her over and lay her down, softly running his fingers along her already bare midriff, and began to kiss her as well. She laughed throatily as he blew gently against her ear, tickling the hair that fell down over it and entrancing him further as she looked back into his eyes, gazing into their crystalline depths. He looked questioningly at her, wondering if she would say anything.
She tried to tell him something, but gave up with a soft huff as his hand started to travel along her curves again, making speech impossible.
............. He lay on top of her, his dark head resting on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as she stroked his hair, as lightly and as soothingly as his mother had so many years ago. His worries had dissolved pleasantly into the distance, and all he concentrated on now was the ankles entwined with his own, and the slender hand that comforted him. Something in him made him feel like this moment could last forever.
He lifted his head and looked into her face again, taking in her long lashes, fanned out over emerald eyes, beset in a face completely clear and unscathed. Her countenance was surrounded by fiery red hair, the likes of which had never been seen in any time before. Her hair was like tamed fire, and was at the moment damp around the edges from perspiration.
She looked back down at him, and brushed the stray lock of hair from his forehead.
"Get up," she ordered softly, with a cooing voice that even the doves themselves would envy.
"I want to stay here with you," he whispered childishly, pulling himself more tightly around her form.
She shook her head. "Here is gone. You need to get up. You need to wake up."
He pushed himself up slightly and looked at her in disappointment. "I'm dreaming."
"You always dream, Hawkeye. I am a dream. I've been a dream ever since you were a child."
Hawkeye smiled slightly. "Even when I was ten I had a crush. Why don't you ever age?"
"You don't want me to age. Dreams don't age. Now wake up."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Hawkeye woke up with a groan in his cot, cursing blindly as the sun shone through the screen. From the next bunk, he heard BJ stirring, and figured choppers were on the way. She was right. He needed to go.
But tonight is not one of those nights.
Tonight, as soon as she enters the room from behind him silently, he can sense her presence, and turns to greet her, opening his mouth for verbal introduction.
But she has other plans.
She places a hand gently on his mouth, averting all speech and giving him the signal that there will be no words tonight. Tonight will be their night of romance and remembrance.
He leans forward and presses his lips against her soft full ones, tangling his hands in her blazing hair as she steps into the curve of his body, fitting against him like a piece of a puzzle.
She smiles against his mouth, and walks him slowly backward to a bed, unforeseen before. Lips still up against his, she reaches down and begins to unbutton the shirt he is wearing, brushing his chest with butterfly wings as she moves. Each time she touches him tiny sparks feel as though they have ignited on his skin, and his breath quickens, much to his dismay. He likes to be able to keep a cool tone with women, trying to maintain the idea that this is just old news for him. But she knows better.
And she smiles her secretive smile down at him as he loses control of his own being slightly faster as her hands drop down further and undo clasps, buttons and snaps that bar the way to the rest of his body.
Once she finishes, her mouth trails away from his and sinks down over his chest, planting gentle drops and making him crazy. She knows just how to touch him to ensure that he can't let her continue, but can't let her stop either. Years of this should make him know that it is a lost cause, but still he tries to keep some semblance of calm as she hits the pressure points, staring up at the ceiling in an attempt to catch his breath, not able to look down but needing so desperately too.
Finally, his self restraint fades completely and he grasps her shoulders, pulling her up from where she had just been planting tantalizing kisses down his stomach. In another moment, she would have killed him completely, and he wanted to have rational thought tonight, to be able to show her he could be a suitable partner for her.
He turned her over and lay her down, softly running his fingers along her already bare midriff, and began to kiss her as well. She laughed throatily as he blew gently against her ear, tickling the hair that fell down over it and entrancing him further as she looked back into his eyes, gazing into their crystalline depths. He looked questioningly at her, wondering if she would say anything.
She tried to tell him something, but gave up with a soft huff as his hand started to travel along her curves again, making speech impossible.
............. He lay on top of her, his dark head resting on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as she stroked his hair, as lightly and as soothingly as his mother had so many years ago. His worries had dissolved pleasantly into the distance, and all he concentrated on now was the ankles entwined with his own, and the slender hand that comforted him. Something in him made him feel like this moment could last forever.
He lifted his head and looked into her face again, taking in her long lashes, fanned out over emerald eyes, beset in a face completely clear and unscathed. Her countenance was surrounded by fiery red hair, the likes of which had never been seen in any time before. Her hair was like tamed fire, and was at the moment damp around the edges from perspiration.
She looked back down at him, and brushed the stray lock of hair from his forehead.
"Get up," she ordered softly, with a cooing voice that even the doves themselves would envy.
"I want to stay here with you," he whispered childishly, pulling himself more tightly around her form.
She shook her head. "Here is gone. You need to get up. You need to wake up."
He pushed himself up slightly and looked at her in disappointment. "I'm dreaming."
"You always dream, Hawkeye. I am a dream. I've been a dream ever since you were a child."
Hawkeye smiled slightly. "Even when I was ten I had a crush. Why don't you ever age?"
"You don't want me to age. Dreams don't age. Now wake up."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Hawkeye woke up with a groan in his cot, cursing blindly as the sun shone through the screen. From the next bunk, he heard BJ stirring, and figured choppers were on the way. She was right. He needed to go.