The required 'M-ness'. This is obviously still AU and a songfic. Hopefully, they're at least a little bit in character.
Charles withdrew his watch from his waistcoat pocket to check the time once again; 6:54 am. He sighed and held the watch to his ear to be sure that it was still ticking. Drumming his fingers on the countertop, he ran through a mental checklist. His coffee was finished, and there was hot water for tea. Should he have gone out last night for a better selection? No; she had always been happy before with either the plain or the Earl Gray, and she had told him before that she hated oddly flavored teas. He had showered thoroughly and shaved carefully. His customary white shirt was on and a carefully chosen tie, the one she'd given him last year for Christmas which had quickly become his favorite. Tugging on the bottom of his waistcoat, he appreciated the way it pulled his shoulders back and made him stand a bit straighter. He knew they were out of fashion but suspected she found them attractive. Smiling, he shook his head at his own foolishness, silly to be thinking such things at his age. Continuing with his checklist, he checked his laptop to see that he was logged on and reviewed the playlist again. His heart leapt when the doorbell rang, and he glanced at the clock quickly as he walked to the door; 6:59, right on time as always.
Opening the door, his eyes widened, "Your hair is down."
"Good morning to you, too," she smiled, "Yes; I had to let it dry the last bit in the car. Are you going to let me in?"
He stepped back to let her enter and took a deep breath as she passed, "Yes; it's a very good morning. May I take your coat?"
She let her coat slide off into his hands, and he hung it carefully in his coat closet, "It looks lighter," then clarified, "Your hair, it looks lighter down. Would you like your caffeine now?"
"Thank you," she said following him into the small kitchen. Once she'd scooped the tea into the pot and filled it with hot water, they stood together waiting for it to steep. "You're dressed pretty casually yourself," she said with a smile.
He looked down, "I am?"
"Charles," she clicked her tongue at him, "No jacket, tie loose; I'm astonished."
He took a sip of his coffee, "Well, I am going to cook while you work."
She poured her tea, nodding her thanks at the cube of sugar he put in her cup, "I suppose I should get to work then." She carried her tea over to his desk and looked at his laptop, "Which songs are some of your favorites?"
He had followed her into the living area and was looking over her shoulder at the screen. Reaching around her, he moved the cursor to the playlist he'd set up the night before, "These are some of my favorites. Maybe we could listen to them while I cook and decide which ones would be best?" At her nod, he started the music.
Once they were back in the kitchen, he cleared his throat and asked cautiously, "Did you finish catching up with your friend?"
She wrapped her free arm around herself, "Yes; we did actually. We finished not long after you called."
"You did?" he asked, shoulders relaxing while he continued to watch the bread he was slicing carefully.
She looked at him curiously, "He was concerned about my choice of ringtone."
Turning around with raised eyebrows, he heard the melody he'd been listening for and smiled, "This one always makes me think of you."
Curious, she sat her tea down and stepped out of the kitchen to hear the words a little better.
When an irresistible force such as you
Meets an old immovable object like me
You can bet as sure as you live
Something's gotta give, something's gotta give,
Something's gotta give.
Her eyes widened and she turned back to the kitchen, disconcerted to find Charles directly behind her, "Charles?"
"I've always thought of you as an irresistible force, and I'm certainly an immovable object," he said watching her intently.
"Charles, I'm not sure exactly what you mean…"
His gaze was so intense that she took a step back. He caught her elbow, "Elsie; I've been trying to find a way for awhile to tell you…"
Staring at him for a long moment, she heard the next lines of the song.
When an irrepressible smile such as yours
Warms an old implacable heart such as mine
Don't say no because I insist.
Somewhere, somehow,
Someone's gonna be kissed
She stepped back toward him and put her free hand on his chest. Bending to kiss her, he wrapped his hands around her waist to draw her closer, and her hand trailed up his chest to grasp the back of his neck. He groaned as she pressed her chest tight against him and heat flared between them. Ending the kiss reluctantly, he let his forehead rest against hers, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so pushy. I've only just told you how I feel."
"I feel like we've been skirting around our feelings for the last year," she said catching his lower lip between hers, "And you've still not really said how you feel."
"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, "I love you. I find you irresistible. Forgive me for being old-fashioned, but I want to court you."
"I don't mind old-fashioned. Old-fashioned always has hot water ready for my tea even though he detests it. Old-fashioned always finds extra work at the office so that I don't leave alone on late nights. Old-fashioned calls me when I'm late to make sure that that I'm not ill," she placed a quick kiss on his lower lip, "But I'd like to point out that we've had breakfast, lunch, or dinner together two or three times a week for the last five years, and we've gone to multiple functions together. I thought you were already courting me," she caught his lower lip between her teeth, "So maybe we could move on to the next stage in the relationship."
"Good," he sighed before capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. She grasped his tie after a few moments to loosen the knot further, and he pushed her against the wall, his knee between her thighs. His lips trailed from hers to the soft skin behind her ear.
She tilted her head to the side to allow him better access, "Charles, breakfast."
He straightened, a slightly dazed expression on his face, "Oh, yes, I'll finish…"
"No! I just thought you should probably make sure the burners were off."
Realization dawning, he smiled before stepping back into the kitchen. When he returned, she was at the computer. "I thought we could listen to that song again," she said with a smile.
"Mmmm. Yes, but we may be late for work. Do you have any appointments?"
"Not until Monday."
"Monday?" his grin widened considerably, "Today's Thursday."
"Don't get too excited. I do have work to do, just no appointments."
"But it can wait," he said seriously.
"It can wait," she agreed.
"I should call Anna," he said looking for his phone.
"She won't be in yet," handing the phone to him, "Just send her an e-mail."
He looked at the phone dubiously and attempted to do just that while she unbuttoned his waistcoat to slide it to the floor and pushed his braces off his shoulders. Stretching, she nibbled her way along his jaw and dragged the tail of his shirt from his trousers.
Grunting in frustration, he said, "That's a little distracting."
"Just a little?"
"More than a little," he said dipping his lips down to hers, "It doesn't help that this keyboard is so small. I keep hitting the wrong letters."
"Give it to me," she said, exasperated, "What do you want me to say?"
"That I'll be late because I'm planning on making my accountant moan my name repeatedly?" he teased then continued at her level look and raised eyebrow, "How about I have a friend who needs me?"
She smiled at this, "You'll be in this afternoon?"
He shook his head, "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" she asked breathlessly.
"Definitely tomorrow," he repeated as he nuzzled her neck tasting the soft skin below her jaw.
"Charles," she moaned, closing her eyes briefly before opening them to send the e-mail, "I should probably let William know as well. Let me go for a moment so I can get my phone."
"Can't you just send it from mine?"
"Yes," she scoffed, "If I want it to say 'sent from Charles Carson's IPhone."
He released her and leaned against the wall while she pulled her phone from her purse.
"What is that?"
"It's called an Otterbox. It's for protection."
"It's very red. Speaking of protection, do we…?"
She blushed faintly, "No, that's taken care of. I've been 'protected' for about six months now."
At his questioning look, she continued, "You never know when something might happen."
He smiled, stepping closer to her, "So you've thought 'something' might happen for six months."
"Well, one can hope."
"I suppose one can," he agreed seriously as his hands gripped her blouse, working the buttons loose. He lifted his hand almost experimentally to her breast and slid two fingers under the edge of her bra, tracing the hardened peak gently.
She sighed and her lips parted watching his eyes, "Charles, let me send this e-mail, please."
"I'm not doing anything to stop you," he said bending to mouth her nipple through the green lace of her bra. She moaned again and wrapped her arms around his neck, phone hitting him in the back of the head. While he worked to loosen the fastening on her bra, she tried to type on the phone behind his head. He just had her bra loose and was lifting it out of the way so that he could draw her nipple into his mouth without any troublesome cloth in between when she dropped the phone near the table beside them with a sigh, "Finished."
Placing her hands on his cheeks she drew his lips back to hers.
"What did you say?"
"That something came up," she said trailing the back of her fingers over the fabric straining at his groin, "and he shouldn't expect me until Monday."
"Monday?" he asked in a low groan.
She nodded, "Monday. And he's not to call," she finished grasping his waistband to pull him toward the bedroom.
He followed her eagerly and grasped her hand drawing her back against him, "Elsie, I didn't really expect this. I just wanted to let you know how I felt."
Pulling his arm tight around her, she said, "And now you know how I feel. I've thought about this for a year now. Let's not waste any time."
"Just a year?" he asked nibbling her ear, "I've been thinking of this for eighteen months at least, since you wore that green dress, the one that stretches across here," he said gripping her bottom tightly to pull her against him, "and dips down here," and he bent to kiss the valley between her breasts.
"That's good," she said turning her lips to his, "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"
"Let me rectify that," he said shouldering the bedroom door open and pulling her through before pushing her blouse off her shoulders and drawing her bra down her arms to toss in the corner. Bending again to her breast, he felt her arch against him, head falling back. Stretching his arms behind her, he unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. He groaned at the sight of her green knickers and suspenders. "I love that you wear real stockings," he whispered against her breast, slipping the tips of his fingers under the silk.
She pushed him back gently to his confused frustration, "We need to even things up a bit," and began to work on the buttons of his shirt.
Watching her determined efforts with a bemused smile, he asked, "Am I allowed to help?"
"Depends on how fast you want me in that bed."
He began to work on the bottom buttons and met her hands in the middle pulling the cufflinks out in frustration sending them skittering across the floor before tossing his shirt to the corner. He removed his socks and shoes in one smooth motion and straightened, allowing her to unfasten his trousers which he quickly stepped out of as they slid to the floor. He had his hands on her waist to lift her onto the bed when she laughed softly against his chest.
"Elsie, that's not something any man wants to hear at this point," he said pushing her shoulders back so that he could look in her eyes.
"They are tartan. I thought so yesterday," reaching down to feel his boxers, she said, "and flannel!"
"You peeked? I thought I told you to turn around. And yes, they're flannel. It gets a bit nippy in all those cellars."
"They feel so soft," she said admiringly as she ran her hand along the length of him through the fabric.
He groaned and lifted her onto the bed, kneeling between her knees.
He ran his hand from her ankle to her thigh, enjoying the slide of the silk over her skin. He released first one stocking and then the other from her suspenders and smoothed them down her legs and off. He traced the path of his fingers with tiny kisses along the length of her legs. Lifting himself again, he grasped the edge of her knickers and suspenders together and drew them down her legs and off.
Leaning back a little, he studied her carefully, and she blushed under his gaze, "Elsie, why are you blushing? You are beautiful. The most beautiful site I've ever seen."
"Charles, I wish that you could have seen me twenty years ago or even ten. Gravity and time are not always kind."
"Well, that would have required you to cross the border a bit sooner," he said smiling, then continued gently, "Ten years ago, you wouldn't have had these," he bent to kiss the lines beside her eyes, "Because you would have had ten fewer years of smiling. And you wouldn't have had these," he said bending to kiss the small lines below her lip, "because you'd have had ten fewer years of pulling that lip between your teeth. Believe me, Elsie, all of you is very beautiful to me."
Smiling, she put her hands on the back of his neck and held his lips against hers. Moving to lie beside her, he caught her hand and pulled it from the back of his head to hold it against his chest. Turning her hand over so that her palm was against his chest, she smoothed her hand down until she grazed the top of his flannel boxers. Sliding her fingers under the waistband, she lifted them away from him and slid them down his legs, freeing him to lie warm and heavy against her thigh.
He trailed his fingers from the hollow over her collar bone down to her breast, grasping it gently in his hand while he let the pad of his thumb pass back and forth over her nipple. His mouth captured her other breast to mirror the actions of his thumb with his tongue. She writhed in his arms, holding his head tight against her breast while she kissed his temple and then his ear drawing the lobe between her lips.
He moaned against her breast and suckled it harder between his lips. He let his hand trail down her abdomen from her breast to her hip, lifting her leg to lie over his waist. Running his palm over her bottom, his long fingers ghosted across the wet curls at her center. She gasped against his temple and pressed herself closer against him so that he could feel her warm wetness against his abdomen. He groaned in response and pressed his fingers between her folds, straining to reach up to her nub of pleasure. Not quite able to find her center, he pushed her hip away creating enough space between them for his hand and quickly found his goal, rubbing it gently between thumb and forefinger. She moaned his name, and he finally released her breast from his lips to look up at her with a smile, before slipping his forefinger between her folds to stroke her while he left his thumb pressed against her nub.
Her hips bucked against his hand, and she moaned his name again, trembling through her release. He caught her lips and her next moan in an open mouthed kiss. Her senses returning slowly, she registered the hardness against her thigh that was already slightly moist. Shifting her leg so that he could lie between her thighs poised just on the point of entry, she smiled to hear his low moan of pleasure. He pushed against her warmth, and she shifted her legs a little wider to grant him entry.
He slid into her with one long motion and held himself still on trembling arms as she caught his mouth in another kiss. Slowly, he began to shift his hips, gradually increasing the length of his strokes until she thought he was going to withdraw completely before plunging back into her depths. She moaned his name again as she felt his thrusts grow shorter and more erratic. He cried out wordlessly against her cheek, and his movements stilled, but he continued to hold himself above her on his forearms and kissed her, tasting her lips repeatedly.
He shifted so that he could lie by her side and pulled her to his chest where she lay purring in pleasure. With his hand on her upper back, he caressed her shoulder blade with his thumb while he caught his breath, "I counted three times, but I was a bit distracted so I might have missed one or two."
She raised her head off his chest to look at him in confusion, "Three what?"
"Three times that you moaned my name," he teased, "I told you I planned on making you moan my name repeatedly."
She swatted his chest lightly, "I heard a few deeper moans in here as well."
"You certainly did," he agreed through a yawn, "This is much better than just breakfast."
She smiled and kissed his chest to sooth the swat, "Charles, you dear, sweet man. I love you dearly."
He hummed in agreement before dosing off to sleep.
Reviews are welcome.
