Author's Note: Okay...so I know this isn't really like the other stuff I've got up here so far. It's light, and kinda fluffy. But I just felt like I needed a break from angst (don't worry- I still have lots more to post up soon) and this just popped into my mind. This will be short- probably less than ten chapters, depending on the response it gets. So yeah, I hope you enjoy it!
Review, and I'll love you. And give you cookies. Lots of 'em.
I let my eyes flutter shut as his fingers continue to play with strands of my hair, dancing lightly across my scalp. I know he's doing it automatically as he reads his magazine, sleek rimless glasses perched on the brdige of his nose. I wish he'd stop being so stubborn and just listen to me- he looks so hot when he wears his glasses. He gives off that whole 'sexy intellectual' vibe. It's a pity he'll only wear them at home, when he's bumming around in sweatpants and a grotty old band t-shirt. May be I'll hide his contacts one day- then he'll have to wear them out in public. I grin to myself at that thought. Mmm, my sexy intellectual...
"What is it?"
I open my eyes to find Roux looking down at me curiously. His blue-grey eyes blink as he gazes down into my face, waiting for me to answer his question.
"Well...I was thinking-"
He interrupts me with a muttered, "-I guess it is about time you tried it..."
I struggle into a sitting position, smacking his arm and squeaking indignantly, "Frederick Roux Miller!"
He pauses, taking a moment to silently curse his French bohemian mother, whilst I take a moment to giggle. I've always thought that his name is just hilarious. It sounds so...mismatched. I mean, who the hell sticks 'Frederick Roux' in front of a surname like 'Miller'? His mother, of course. And come to think of it, a lot about Roux's life is mismatched. His parents definitely were- a bohemian Frenchwoman and an English businessman? Not exactly a match made in heaven. From what he's told me though, I don't think his father had much to do with his upbringing, even before he died. He died when Roux was ten and left him with an inheritance that has him set for life. Well, I'm not complaining- some of that bought us this apartment. Thank you Daddy Miller, sir.
I steer my thoughts back on track, clearing my throat before I speak, "As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me...I was thinking- we should have a dinner party!"
What looks like fear flits across Roux's face before he slowly speaks.
"...A dinner party? As in, 'civilised, gourmet food, sit-down dinner, polite conversation' type of dinner party?"
I grin brightly back at him, "Uh-huh!"
"...'No beer, no take-out, no pizza, no illicit substances, no people trying to have sex in my bed' type of dinner party?"
"Our bed," I correct him, before nodding my head, "And yeah,exactly that kind of dinner party!"
"Lee...who on earth do you know that we could invite to something like that? And why the hell would we want to throw a dinner party?"
"Well, isn't that what smug, happy couples are meant to do? And I'm sure everyone could behave for one night..." I trail off rather uncertainly.
From the look he's giving me, I can tell that Roux isn't convinced at all.
"Well, I'm sure if we offered a cash prize for the best-behaved couple, someone would behave?"
Apparently he's still unconvinced, so I sidle closer to him, dropping my head to rest on his shoulder and sigh.
"Aw, come on Roux... It could be fun! And you can cook...and make those yummy petit fours you made for my birthday? Please Roux... You know how sexy I think it is when you cook... Oooh, we can have fun with this- you could be like that Naked Chef guy!"
He chuckles and turns to place a light kiss on my cheek before he nuzzles at my face, speaking against my skin, his breath tickling me.
"Babe...you know that he isn't actually naked, right? The Naked Chef, I mean... He isn't naked- he wears clothes."
I pull back a little to look at Roux, frowning, "Are you kidding me? He's not naked!"
He laughs, pulling me towards him and wrapping his arms around me, "No, silly! It's the food that's naked. He strips the recipes down to their most basic form and uses the bare essential ingredients."
I make a little noise of digruntled disappointment and he smiles, kissing my cheek, and then the tip of my nose and then my lips. I let him bundle me up in his arms and I shuffle until I get comfortable.
"No wonder you still can't cook- I knew you hadn't read all those books I bought you!"
"Shut up. Give me a moment to grieve- you just killed my fantasy," I sulk.
"Hey! I thought that was me!" he jokes, placing another kiss on my cheek in an attempt to appease me, "But fine...we can have a bloody dinner party, and I'll cook."
I instantly perk up, grinning at him wickedly, "-I love you! So...will you wear that cute little cooking-apron I bought you?"
"I love you too babe... And fuck, no! It's all...girly..."
I try again, "But what if you're not wearing anything else underneath it?"
When I step out of the elevator in front of the flat, there's a distinct smell of something...burning... My eyes widen in realisation and I jam the key into the lock, finally flinging the door open and stumbling into the flat.
He turns to look at me sheepishly, an embarrassed half-smile gracing his lips. I don't know what he's done to the kitchen, but it looks like he's tried to renovate it. Or re-plaster the walls with flour. My eyes scan the disaster zone, taking it all in slowly as Lee stands in the middle of the room, cheeks smeared with flour and with what looks like a glob of butter on the tip of his nose.
"Lee, take that pan off the heat and turn off the oven..." is all that I manage to stutter, and Lee complies readily.
"Um…hi honey. Did you have a good day?" he asks tentatively, turning to look me and biting his bottom lip adorably.
"Wha- why…-What were you trying to do!"
"I wanted to surprise you! You were mad that I didn't read those cooking books you bought me, and you said that the Jamie Oliver stuff is easy…"
I laugh, hugging him to me and placing a kiss on the top of his chestnut head. I know he's gotten flour all over my shirt, but I don't care. He's adorable. I pull back a little to wipe the butter off the tip of his nose and dust some flour off his cheeks.
"I wasn't mad about the books, Lee- I wasn't mad about anything! And what were you trying to make anyway?"
"A Victorian sponge cake. It said it's meant to be easy, but it's not!" he insisted.
"If you're making a cake, what the hell is this stuff in the pan?"
I prod at the sticky, charred mess at the bottom of the saucepan with a wooden spoon. It smells slightly sugary, but it's so burnt that it's almost completely black.
"Oh…that… I was trying to melt butter, 'cause it said that the butter had to be soft and my butter was hard, and then I saw a recipe for making caramel and I like caramel, so…"
I just burst out laughing- I couldn't help myself. I pull him closer to me and kiss him firmly on the mouth, loving how his lips always taste so sweet.
"When we get a new saucepan, I promise I'll make caramel for you. Just promise me that you'll never, ever try to cook when I'm not around- I don't want to come home and find out that you've burnt the apartment down with you stuck inside it. Our apartment's too pretty for that!"
I pick him up in my arms and totter over to the sofa, collapsing heavily onto the soft cream material with Lee giggling on top of me. I place a hand on the back of his head, pulling him down for a lazy kiss. We lie tangled up in each other for a while as he tells me about his classes and I complain about one of my lectures. I knew I shouldn't have chosen that Art History module…
"Oh! Everyone said they can come to our dinner party!"
I groan, "I just know it's going to be a disaster… Lee, how the hell did you talk me into this?"
"I didn't. I seduced you! It's how I've got you wrapped around my little finger."
"You don't have any hold over me!" I protest.
"Oh, yes I do…"
"I'll rip up that essay you spent all weekend writing."
I keep quiet and let him kiss me again.
"Did you get everything on the list?"
"Yes dear," I sigh and roll my eyes, pushing the shopping cart to the check-out counter, "I've got everything."
"Are you sure? You know how useless you are with groceries… Did you bring my list with you? Did you get exactly what I wrote down?"
"Yes, I brought your damn list! And yes I got exactly what you wrote down. God, you're so anal!"
I hear him chuckle lowly, "Now, now Lee… I do believe that role goes to you…"
"Whatever. If I get this wrong, it's your fault. You know I hate grocery shopping! That's why I let you do it all the time…"
"Well, it's not my fault this lecture is running over- and yes it's a compulsory one. Speaking of, I should probably get back in there."
"Fine," I mutter sulkily, "Just get home quickly…or I'll try and cook again."
"Oh hell… Okay, okay- I'll be back really quickly. Gotta go- love you."
"Yeah, yeah," I feign irritation, "See you later, hon."
I smile apologetically at the guy behind the register as I begin unloading my cartful of ingredients. I have no idea what Roux intends on cooking, but it looks like there's going to be enough food to feed a small country. I guess he's really serious about this whole cooking thing…my fault, I guess, for suggesting we have a dinner party. This better go well, or he's never going to let me live it down.
"So, you having a party or something?"
I look up to see the guy talking to me. Oooh, he's quite cute…
"Yeah- how'd you guess?" I chuckle.
"-It was either that, or assume you're stocking up for the winter! This is a hell of a lot of food."
The food is finally packed into bags and I load it back into the trolley to take to the car. As I fold up the receipt to stick it in my pocket, I realise the check-out guy has written his name and number on the back of it. I grin and stuff it in my pocket. Ah well, good to know I've still got it, even with my own sex-bomb waiting at home. Or on his way home.
"Lee! Who the hell is Bill!"
I stick my head around the corner, looking in on Roux who is standing in the kitchen holding a long strip of paper and looking at me expectantly. I step into the kitchen, squinting at the paper he's holding up before I realise it's the receipt for the groceries. I grin, taking it from him.
"Oh…he's just the cute check-out guy from the grocery store."
"What did you do to make him give you his number?" Roux demands to know. Oooh, he's jealous! I can see it from the worried furrow of his brow.
"Nothing at all, actually. Bitched with you on the phone about the shopping-list. He probably saw that as the beginning of cracks in our relationship or something and thought it was a good time to make a move," I shrug, tossing the receipt onto the counter.
Roux suddenly lunges at me, grabbing me roughly around the waist and crushing his lips against mine in a really, really hot kiss. When he finally pulls back, I swear my lips are bruised.
"No, no cracks. Definitely no cracks. Never will be," he mutters gruffly, hugging me to him possessively.
I chuckle, nuzzling my face against his neck, "Someone a little jealous, hmm?"
"Just a little. You're mine. Stupid Bill."
I lean back a little so I can cover his face with kisses, "I never said I wasn't yours. You'd think that you'd realise that after over a year together, silly fool."
I can't help but be amused by his insecurities. Sure, check-out guy was cute but I don't want anyone other than Roux. I wonder when he's going to realise just how serious I am when I say that.
"Anyway, I'm going to leave you to all this. You better get moving, 'cause in half and hour I expect you in the shower!"
Roux raises an eyebrow in my direction elegantly, "Oh? And will you be there?"
"That depends on how prompt you are. If you're too late, I just might have to start the fun without you…"
I watch as Lee shuts the door behind the last of our guests. Finally, the flat is quiet and empty again. Lee gives a yawn as he pads over to where I'm crashed out on the sofa, and he flops down next to me unceremoniously. I instinctively wrap an arm around his lithe figure and pull him closer.
I finally break the silence, "So, I thought dinner parties were meant to be civilised?"
"Oh, shut up. I didn't know that Kevin was going to bring all that beer…or tequila…or dope."
I let him snuggle closer to rest his head on my chest before I place a kiss on the top of his head, "And I thought you said no-one would try to have sex in our bed."
"Well, you know what Sal is like when she's buzzed…and I don't think David was given any other choice!" Lee chuckles, rolling over so that he's lying on top of me and looking down into my face.
"Eurgh, yeah. I did not need to see the beginnings of hetero-sex in our bed though. That was not pleasant," I wince, making a face as Lee laughs at me.
"Aw, my poor baby… I'll change the sheets first thing tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow morning? What about now?"
"Well, I'm not moving. We can do the dishes and stuff tomorrow," he yawns.
I nod in silent agreement, nudging him off my body so I can pull off my jeans and shirt before going into the bathroom to take out my contacts. When I step out, Lee has stripped down to his boxers and is curled up in a ball on the sofa. Smiling, I grab a spare blanket from a drawer and go to join him.
Snuggling back against me, Lee whispers, "Thank you."
"Letting me bully you into the whole stupid dinner party thing."
I grin, "Don't worry about it. Just, next time you want to do something 'coupley', can we just stick to candle-lit dinners for two, or furniture shopping; that sort of thing? Oh, or having sex."
I hear him chuckle as he moves even closer to me, "Okay, I promise. Lots of sex."
"But not right now. This is just perfect."
He purrs in agreement as I kiss the back of his neck before pulling the blanket around us tighter. We lie there in silence until I hear his breathing even out, indicating that he's asleep. I love the moments like this, when I've got my arms wrapped around him and it's just the two of us. I know I'm still young- I'm only twenty-one after all- but I can't help but let thoughts of 'forever' slip into my mind occasionally. Of course, 'occasionally' means whenever Lee smiles at me. Which is all the time. So yeah, I know I want to spend forever with Lee and his cheeky grin. I want to spend forever listening to him singing Hanson songs in the shower and saving him from massacring the kitchen. Or rather, saving the kitchen from being massacred by him. After all, that's just life with Lee- you never know what's going to happen tomorrow. But I sure as hell intend on spending the rest of my life finding out.