Chilled Out

by Mindwalker78 (Mindwalker78@yahoo.de)

01/03

DISCLAIMER: These are all original characters and are ©copyright Mindwalker78@yahoo.de This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies may be made for private use only and I'd appreciate if you included all copyright notices and this disclaimer.

Special thanks to Diane for beta-reading!

Chilled Out

The wind is softly moving the long grass around the lonely cottage in the middle of nowhere. The spring sun is sending the last rays over the landscape, bathing everything in red and orange. Small clouds are passing slowly and low over our heads, almost touching the rooftop, or so it seems.

We've just arrived back from a long walk through the wilderness, and are resting on the steps to the front porch.

Two steamy mugs are sitting next to us.

My back is resting against your warm, fleece covered chest and my head is nestled securely on your shoulder.

You take a sip from your milky coffee and place the cup on one of your bent knees, enjoying the warmth.

My eyes are closed as I let out a long happy sigh.

It is so quiet, I can only hear the wind and the beating of your heart. I can actually feel it, and it gives me a warm feeling deep inside my soul.

You give me a light squeeze with the one arm around my middle.

When I stretch out my legs a little more, I lean back further into you and you hold me.

All that can be heard is a lonely bird crying out, penetrating the clouds with tireless wings.

When you ask me if I've had a nice day and your warm breath is tickling my ear, I shiver and you notice. You put your mug back down next to you and hug me tightly as I mumble a reply like "very much so".

After a while I take one of your linked hands and give it a kiss on the knuckles, before I put it back to the other resting on my stomach.

I slowly stroke my finger over the inside of your palm and over your wrist, which earns me a kiss on the neck, just above my own sweater.

After the sun has disappeared behind the far hills, the wind gets colder and I'm glad your warmth is keeping the chills away, but eventually we decide to move inside.

While I tend to the lasagna that's already waiting in the oven, you go find the wine.

A little later we sit on the thick carpet, feet stretched out towards the flames in the open fireplace, a half empty wine bottle on the small table next to the couch, each clutching a plate with spicy pasta.

Two pairs of socks are lying somewhere behind the empty couch, along with our sweaters. Clad in t-shirts, we're resting our backs on the back of the two seated couch, the fire is cracking and sparks fly from the slightly damp wood.

We've been in the same position for so long that after dinner it's hard to get up. But eventually we manage, and after I sit back down, I hear you rumble through the fridge. I know what you're looking for. I saw you smuggle in some dessert when you thought I wasn't looking.

I'm leaning back on my elbows, my eyes closed, when I hear your bare feet walk towards me, then I yelp in surprise when you put the glass cup with cold ice-cream on my belly.

Getting a hold of your foot I catch you with one hand, the other balancing the ice cream, and in a second you're sitting beside me. I'm giving you a hard look but burst out laughing with you a second later. "Revenge." is all I say for now and seem to let it drop, digging into the chocolate chip ice cream.

Then, when you last expect it, while turning away and putting your empty cup on the table next to you, the shirt you're wearing reveals a bare back, and I see my opportunity..

My hands are icy from holding the cup so long.

You don't see my mischievous grin, but you sure feel my hands when I place them right on your back. And the way you jump is priceless.

Not to mention the yelp.

Somehow I don't feel the need to remove those hands anytime soon.

But I'd better remove them, before I get into serious trouble. From the expression on your face, the trouble won't come from you so much, as myself.

There is something in your eyes that makes my skin tingle. It's like you're looking right through me.

So, after a little pat I pull back my wandering hands and call it even.

You seem to think for a second and then nod, only I don't really buy it. Your eyes are not quite saying the same as your mouth. Mouth, oh yeah, trouble here I come.

While I get up to put a few more logs on the fire, you hop onto the couch and pat the space next to you.

Is it the fire or did the temperature suddenly raise a few degrees?

For my own good I sit as far away from you as the two seater couch allows, which isn't really far.

Handing me a refilled glass of wine, we sit side by side and watch the flames once more.

I can feel you glance at me once in a while. And I'm sure you notice me watching you, too.

We've kept our conversations light all day, and now I don't know what to say. It's not that there isn't anything to say, but I don't know if you'll want to hear it, or how you might react.

And the thought of sharing a single room later isn't helping my hormones at all.

Sure, we've all slept over before, but somehow this isn't anywhere near the same.

I'm wondering what you're thinking about, and when our eyes meet, you're giving me one of those smiles. Those smiles that make my knees weak and my heartbeat double.

You ask if I'm sleepy yet and I almost choke on my wine. I say I'd like to sit a little longer and you nod.

Sometime later we're chatting animatedly about our favorite sci-fi movies, and the best scenes.

We've got our legs stretched out and yours are lying on top of mine.

Usually I'm not afraid of movies, thriller, horror, whatever. But here, alone in the wilderness it's something else.

I can feel the hair on my neck stand up while you tell me about a story I haven't heard of before, and you might be able to see the goose bumps on my arms. If you do, you do not comment and continue relating the story.

Later on, you ask if I'll make a little tale up. I'm sure you don't know what you're asking for, because I start to tell a story that makes me scared, and I jump when another wet log sends sparks into the fireplace.

You grab my hand, the one that's not holding my heart and we both start laughing.

"Way to go!" you chuckle, and pat my foot after sitting back in the couch.

I sigh happily and tell you to go on rubbing my tired feet. "Five more minutes and I'll be asleep." I mumble after a while, and you pinch my toe, telling me the evening's not over yet.

"It's all your fault!" I reply and wiggle my toes to signal you to continue, which you do after shaking your head.

When you stop rubbing my feet I open first one eye, then the other, just in time to see you run your fingertips alongside my right foot, and it takes everything I have not to jump and fall off the couch.

Your eyes are daring me, and I will my heart to slow down and relax. I'm getting goose bumps again, and you seem to enjoy it. The smile on your face tells me everything.

Eventually you have mercy on me and just hold my one foot in your hands.

Telling me it's getting late you gently set my legs down to the ground and get up, offering me a hand.

I look at it first and then take it, letting you pull me up. Not letting go of each other, we silently make our way to the bedroom.

The fire has burnt down enough, and we close the only light on the way out.

We haven't unpacked much yet, so our bags are still sitting next to the huge closet in the small room.

After asking you which side you prefer, you choose and flop down on the right, next to the window, as I start searching for my top and sweats somewhere in my bag.

Since we had a shower when we arrived back, it doesn't take very long to finish taking turns in the bathroom next door, and close the lights in the hallway.

The bedroom is now only lit by a small light on the nightstand.

I don't know about you, but I've been enjoying the view very much. There's something about tank tops and sweats, isn't there?

After a short "g'night" the light is closed and we're lying side by side in the dark. The only thing that can be heard is our breathing, and a few animals behind the hill, probably sheep.

I can tell that you're not sleeping yet, and I debate with myself whether to ask that single question that's been playing on my mind repeatedly, for the last few of minutes.

What should I ask? "Do I get a goodnight kiss?" or maybe better "I can't sleep without a goodnight kiss?"

I just can't decide and turn over for the tenth time.

You ask if I'm okay and , it's now or never. I chuckle inwards.

I ask the question, and now you chuckle. Only I don't know if that's a good or a bad chuckle.

And I'm so glad it's dark, save for the dim light from the moon outside.

You don't say anything and I get unnerved, wanting to crawl under the blanket. Then I feel you reach over, holding my cheek and leaning over to give me a lingering kiss on the lips.

"Sweet Dreams!" you say and pull back.

I can't say how, but eventually I fall asleep. And when I awake the next time, it feels more like a few minutes than a few hours. But the sun is already rising and bathing the bedroom with way too much light for my taste.

Still half asleep I crawl out of bed, and pull the thick curtains that we seemed to have forgotten the previous night shut.

You mumble something and turn back over.

A smile is spreading over my face and I climb back into bed as well.

And as I'm not fully awake in the first place, I fall back and doze off again.

When I wake the next time from a very nice dream, I can still feel my skin tingle. I stretch a little, only to find I'm cuddled into somebody's back. It takes me a moment to remember and when I do, I start to grin.

Not knowing what to do, I remain still and try to find out if I have woken you, but your breathing is even, and your eyes stay closed when I run the hand that's lying on your side up and down a little, spreading my fingers and letting the tips trail over your tight top.

I fall in and out of sleep for the next hour, until you turn over and bury your face in the crook of my shoulder. That wakes me up suddenly, and so do you. I can feel you open your eyes. But you remain still.

My arm, which is still around you, is now resting on your back, and when you don't do anything, I start trailing it up to your shoulder-blades and back down to your shorts.

"Is that okay?" I ask when I place a kiss on your neck. You don't answer but mirror my action.

I can feel you smile against my skin and I hug you a little tighter, wrapping my other arm, on which my head had been nestled, around you as well.

I'm getting a little scared of my own courage, but that flies out of the window when your hand on my back finds a way under my own top.

I want to bury my head into your shoulder but I want to see you as well, and so I cup your cheek with my hand and lean back a little.

And I am not prepared for that look. My heart seems to jump out of my chest, and all I can do is close the gap between us.

The End ... or not? Write me!

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