Put Off
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Deans
Prompt: Can I? Can I?
Notes: For 30_sweets
Disclaimer: This is me owning nothing.
Summary: She thought he'd be put off by the peppermint.
25: Can I? Can I?
“Kiss me.”
Frank gaped up at his wife. She stood over the couch, watching the television. He wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t mean the man on-screen.
“Uh, Leslie?”
Leslie glanced down at him, gave him an odd look. “Well? Kiss me.”
Frank recognized that he would not be getting another chance. He sat up and reached for her, anticipation so thick he could taste it. She laid her hand in his and let him lead her around to sit on the couch. His hands shook.
She gave him her best attempt at a smile. It came out as more of a half-smirk; a simple quirk of the lips to let him know she was amused, and would he please get on with this?
But Frank intended to savor this one.
He ran his fingers through her hair, looked into her eyes, the whole bit. Felt like he was in a bad movie. Then he slipped his arm around her waist and pressed his lips to hers.
She let him take his time, instead of rushing him through like usual.
Frank slipped his tongue in her mouth. Leslie sighed. And then he noticed it.
She tasted like peppermint.
He suppressed a shudder and didn’t pull back. Instead, he deepened the kiss in the hope that the taste would go away. Leslie hadn’t been expecting that. She moaned and relaxed under his hands.
He pulled back and ignored the taste in his mouth for the sight of her soft body and swollen lips. She sighed again and stared at him through half-lidded eyes. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and licked his lips.
“Mm…” she sighed. “Now I want to have sex.”
He raised very happy eyebrows and looked hopefully at her for confirmation. She grinned.
“I thought you’d be put off by the peppermint,” she admitted.
“Please. I have to kiss girls who taste worse all the time,” he scoffed. “Besides, at least you don’t look half bad.”
She made to kick him in the stomach. He dodged deftly and grabbed her foot.
“Hey, baby,” he called.
“What?”
“Do you still want to have sex?”
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Deans
Prompt: Can I? Can I?
Notes: For 30_sweets
Disclaimer: This is me owning nothing.
Summary: She thought he'd be put off by the peppermint.
25: Can I? Can I?
“Kiss me.”
Frank gaped up at his wife. She stood over the couch, watching the television. He wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t mean the man on-screen.
“Uh, Leslie?”
Leslie glanced down at him, gave him an odd look. “Well? Kiss me.”
Frank recognized that he would not be getting another chance. He sat up and reached for her, anticipation so thick he could taste it. She laid her hand in his and let him lead her around to sit on the couch. His hands shook.
She gave him her best attempt at a smile. It came out as more of a half-smirk; a simple quirk of the lips to let him know she was amused, and would he please get on with this?
But Frank intended to savor this one.
He ran his fingers through her hair, looked into her eyes, the whole bit. Felt like he was in a bad movie. Then he slipped his arm around her waist and pressed his lips to hers.
She let him take his time, instead of rushing him through like usual.
Frank slipped his tongue in her mouth. Leslie sighed. And then he noticed it.
She tasted like peppermint.
He suppressed a shudder and didn’t pull back. Instead, he deepened the kiss in the hope that the taste would go away. Leslie hadn’t been expecting that. She moaned and relaxed under his hands.
He pulled back and ignored the taste in his mouth for the sight of her soft body and swollen lips. She sighed again and stared at him through half-lidded eyes. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and licked his lips.
“Mm…” she sighed. “Now I want to have sex.”
He raised very happy eyebrows and looked hopefully at her for confirmation. She grinned.
“I thought you’d be put off by the peppermint,” she admitted.
“Please. I have to kiss girls who taste worse all the time,” he scoffed. “Besides, at least you don’t look half bad.”
She made to kick him in the stomach. He dodged deftly and grabbed her foot.
“Hey, baby,” he called.
“What?”
“Do you still want to have sex?”