Disclaimer - I do not own anything even remotely related to The Mighty Ducks. I only wish I had thought of them first…
Italics indicate character thought.
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The kiss became more intense as Charlie drove his hands into Beau's hair and her fingers found his back and clung to his shoulders. She pulled away, her lips just a breath from his. "Let's go upstairs, Charlie."
He nodded, taking her mouth again and backing her towards the staircase. Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, Beau was dimly away of another Duck catcall but somehow Charlie had already maneuvered them half way to the second floor, pausing to lean against the railing several times in the process. His hands were roaming her body possessively and she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so…wanted.
They stumbled into his room, where the light was dim with just a desk lamp shining. Charlie kicked the door shut in one move as he was pulling off his coat and looking at Beau hungrily. She kissed his neck gently, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of his flannel shirt. She had it almost all the way open when she tentatively slid her fingers under the material to feel the smooth skin tight over his muscles. Beau sighed before rising on her toes to find his mouth with hers.
"I love you." Charlie said the words again, running his hands down her arms and pulling her against him. He moved his fingers gently over her hips and up the tight constraints of her corset, finding the bow at the top. He had it undone, but found himself struggling to get the whole thing unlaced. Beau realized his frustration and stopped kissing him in order to incline her head and watch him tug at the string. As she leaned her head back the room spun a little and she realized how drunk she was. Drunk on love, as cliché as that sounded, and drunk on alcohol. I'm drunk. It had a bit of finality to it.
As she was coming to this realization Charlie was pulling laces in all directions, his face flushed and his jaw clenched. He finally threw his hands up, running them through his hair.
"Who makes this? What is this thing?" He looked at her, smiling and lowering his hands to her waist and stepping closer again. "Wanna give me a hand here or are you just going to let me embarrass myself?"
He leaned down to kiss her and Beau tilted her head back, sliding her hand between them. "Charlie, wait." She pushed his hands from her waist softly and backed up a step, breathing deeply. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea."
He looked at her, confused. His eyes were wide and his mouth partially open. His hair was mussed from her hands and his shirt hung, half un-tucked and unbuttoned. "Why is it not a good idea?"
She gestured broadly. "We're drunk. Do we want to do this for the first time when we're drunk?" He was just looking at her and Beau didn't know what to do with her hands. She put them on her hips, and then wrapped them around her waist before finally crossing them over her chest awkwardly.
His voice was deep. "I'm not drunk. I know exactly what I'm doing." He pointed to his bedroom door. "I knew exactly what I was saying when we were downstairs, Beau." He raised his hands to indicate his room. "And again when we got up here. Did you mean what you said?" There was an accusing tone to his voice that Beau wasn't used to hearing and it hurt. Now her tone was short and she hated hearing it.
"Yes, Charlie. I knew what I was saying."
He features softened and he raised a hand to her cheek which she leaned into. "Well then?"
"Charlie, it's just that…I want to be with you, I do." He started to speak and then closed his mouth, knowing she wanted to finish. "This feels right, but at the same time…I want to be completely…" She searched for a word better than 'not drunk.' "I want to be completely clear when we go there for the first time. This is so good right now, and we've just added this crazy thing."
He raised an eyebrow. "The love thing?"
She smiled, glad that he understood. "Yes, the love thing." She touched her heart in an imitation of his gesture earlier. "I do love you, Charlie. This is new for me though, and I don't want to add another level of strangeness just yet. Can you understand that?"
He moved to the side, sitting down heavily on his bed, puffing out his cheeks and readjusting his shirt. "I can completely understand that." He looked at his pillow. "Would you at least stay the night, though?" When she looked hesitant he held up his hands, giving her his best innocent smile. "We'll just sleep. Promise. I'm not ready for you to leave yet. I want to keep telling you I love you. At least, like, 100 more times before tomorrow."
She moved to sit beside him and looked at him seriously. "Well how can I resist that?"
