Pillowtalk
So this must be how cats feel like, Skye thought as she lay sprawled on top of Grant, her cheek against his wonderfully warm chest, while his hand drew lazy circles into the skin of her lower back. Honestly, she felt like purring.
"I should go back to my bunk soon," he said softly kissing the top of her head.
Skye grimaced without even opening her eyes. "No," she whined, tightening her hold around his chest a little. "I don't want you to go."
"Somebody might notice that I'm gone, or see me coming out of here if I wait too long."
"I don't care," she pouted. She really wasn't in the mood of parting with him (she doubted she'll ever want to part with him). "Stay."
She felt his chest rock under her head as he chuckled soundlessly.
"Alright," he said, running a hand through her hair. "I'll stay for a bit longer, kincsem."
She was just about to slip back to her satisfied, comfortable daze in the cocoon of his arms, but the last word caught her attention. Blinking her eyes open she raised her head just a little bit, so she could look into his eyes.
"What did you just say?"
The lighting was poor in her bunk, but she could have sworn that Grant blushed a little. "Nothing, really. It's just an endearment." He paused for a moment, then added, "Is it a problem?"
She shook her head. "No. It's just… I've never heard of this word." She lay her forearms crossed on his chest and rested her chin on her wrists, so their faces were only inches away. "What language is it? Russian?"
"No," he replied, sounding a little relieved as he took a lock of her hair, and started twirling it between his fingers. "It's Hungarian."
"Wow," she breathed, leaning back a little bit. "You speak Hungarian, too?"
"Just bits and pieces. I spent a couple of weeks there once–a lot of trafficking goes on there–, picked up this and that, but I doubt I could hold a conversation. It's an interesting language, very colorful."
"And…" she drew a finger from his clavicle to his neck. "What does this kin…" she struggled with the word.
"Kin-chem."
"Kincsem," she said, tasting the word. "So what does it mean?"
He took a moment before answering, staring into her eyes and raising a hand to her cheek, caressing her skin with his thumb.
"My treasure." He ran his thumb along her lower lip. "It means my treasure."
She couldn't speak for a moment. "And… do you mean it?" she asked tentatively.
"Of course," he replied, as if it wasn't even a question.
Again, Skye was at loss of words. So she didn't speak; instead she took his face into her hands, leaned forward, and sealed his lips with hers.
"And here I thought," she said teasingly, her forehead resting against his, when they broke the kiss, "that you weren't good at this romance-thing."
He smiled at her. "I try. For you." He stole another quick kiss. "Kincsem."
"Keep saying that, and I'll never let you out of this bunk."
"You say that as if it was some great punishment."
"Hey, you're the one who wanted to leave not even five minutes ago," she pointed out.
"Well, not anymore." His hands on her waist, he quickly turned them around, so he was above her. She put her tights around his hips, and her arms around his neck right away. "Now I'd rather stay."
"Good answer," she said, pulling him down for a kiss.
A/N: Yes, self-indulgent usage of Hungarian! Sue me. (I'm not sorry.) Also, I had to do the first paragraph, because as I was writing it, I really had a furry little monster purring on my chest.
