The Honeymooners (Original, A/L, Oneshot)
Title: The Honeymooners
Fandom: Original
Pairing: Adam/Lauren
Word Count: 710
Rating: T (sexual innuendo; implied sexual content)
Warnings: Nada.
Disclaimer: None -- I actually do own these characters. Huzzah!
Summary: Adam and Lauren are on their honeymoon, and they intend to enjoy it, starting with dinner in bed.
Notes: Adam and Lauren are one of my original couples. This is for the Written in the Stars challenge at 5_prompts (Prompt L2: Your best moments are coming.). Picture is from Flickr and not mine; all credit goes to the original photographer.
“Do you remember the first time we shared a bed?”
Lauren set her book down and cuddled closer. He squeezed her shoulder-a reflex by this point-and racked his brain.
“I think I was eight; you were seven. You were sleeping over and you ran out of Molly’s room during a huge thunderstorm and woke me up. You basically told me I could either let you sleep with me or you’d call your parents to take you home.”
“Shut up. No, I wouldn’t have.” She paused. “All right, maybe.” She pointed at him as he opened his mouth. “You do not get to laugh.”
“I wasn’t going to!”
“Always remember you can’t lie to me, Champ.” She rolled onto her side and out of his embrace, tugging the flat sheet up to cover her bare breasts-he always told her she didn’t need to cover up after sex, since he’d seen it all before (many times, by now), but she always insisted. He found it cute.
Lauren was sitting up and rifling through the takeout menus the front desk had given them. “Pizza? Chinese? Subs?”
“We’re in Hawaii. We could see if they really put pineapple on the pizza here.” He crawled closer to her, leaning forward slightly to kiss her neck and then her right shoulder.
She smirked and edged away, teasing, “Can you keep your hands off me long enough for us to order food your starving wife can eat?”
“I can. I just don’t want to.”
“I figured. So we’re going for pizza? We could get that back in New York, you know.”
“We can,” he repeated. “But what we can’t do is eat it naked in a king-size bed.”
“That’s true. Our bed is not this big. And our sheets are not silk.”
“So what do you say we order some Hawaiian pizza, babe?”
“I say yes. Just like I said when you proposed.”
“You’re a dork, Lauren.”
“But I’m your dork?” She sounded hopeful.
“Of course you’re my dork. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I hope not; otherwise marrying you might’ve been a mistake.” She reached for the phone, dialing the number on the menu and placing the order. Adam nibbled at her neck as she did so, and she had to stifle a moan of pleasure, slapping the closest part of him-his arm-and giving him a look. When the employee at the other end of the line went to calculate their total, she kicked his good knee lightly.
“Can you not make the poor employee think I’m trying to have phone sex with him? Stop nibbling-stop it,” she only half-protested, closing her eyes and finally giving in a bit. “You suck.”
“Not right now, but I can do that. If you want.”
“Of course I want.”
“Dirty, Laur.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Lauren rushed the rest of the phone call, and Adam was on her practically as soon as they hung up. As it turned out, that twenty minutes or less rule still left them with plenty of time.
Adam just barely got dressed to answer the door for the delivery guy-boxers were enough, he told himself; if they expected anything more from the couple in the honeymoon suite, they had to learn-and tipped him an extra few dollars for sticking to that rule and affording him and Lauren just enough time. He set the box down on the bed and sat cross-legged with his wife.
“So is this what I can expect from married life? Because I think I like this, Champ.”
“It’s what you can expect from married life with me, for now, at least-the best is yet to come. I’m hoping I’m the only one you’re planning to be married to, Laur…”
“I’m not making any promises. But off the record-you’re safe.”
“Good to know.” He reached out to wipe some sauce from the corner of her mouth. “I love you, Lauren. I know I’ve said it-”
“On the dance floor, in our apartment, on the plane, in the taxi, in the elevator, as you carried me in here… yeah, I think you have.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Not at all. You should know that by now.”
“I do.”
“Damn right.”
Fandom: Original
Pairing: Adam/Lauren
Word Count: 710
Rating: T (sexual innuendo; implied sexual content)
Warnings: Nada.
Disclaimer: None -- I actually do own these characters. Huzzah!
Summary: Adam and Lauren are on their honeymoon, and they intend to enjoy it, starting with dinner in bed.
Notes: Adam and Lauren are one of my original couples. This is for the Written in the Stars challenge at 5_prompts (Prompt L2: Your best moments are coming.). Picture is from Flickr and not mine; all credit goes to the original photographer.
“Do you remember the first time we shared a bed?”
Lauren set her book down and cuddled closer. He squeezed her shoulder-a reflex by this point-and racked his brain.
“I think I was eight; you were seven. You were sleeping over and you ran out of Molly’s room during a huge thunderstorm and woke me up. You basically told me I could either let you sleep with me or you’d call your parents to take you home.”
“Shut up. No, I wouldn’t have.” She paused. “All right, maybe.” She pointed at him as he opened his mouth. “You do not get to laugh.”
“I wasn’t going to!”
“Always remember you can’t lie to me, Champ.” She rolled onto her side and out of his embrace, tugging the flat sheet up to cover her bare breasts-he always told her she didn’t need to cover up after sex, since he’d seen it all before (many times, by now), but she always insisted. He found it cute.
Lauren was sitting up and rifling through the takeout menus the front desk had given them. “Pizza? Chinese? Subs?”
“We’re in Hawaii. We could see if they really put pineapple on the pizza here.” He crawled closer to her, leaning forward slightly to kiss her neck and then her right shoulder.
She smirked and edged away, teasing, “Can you keep your hands off me long enough for us to order food your starving wife can eat?”
“I can. I just don’t want to.”
“I figured. So we’re going for pizza? We could get that back in New York, you know.”
“We can,” he repeated. “But what we can’t do is eat it naked in a king-size bed.”
“That’s true. Our bed is not this big. And our sheets are not silk.”
“So what do you say we order some Hawaiian pizza, babe?”
“I say yes. Just like I said when you proposed.”
“You’re a dork, Lauren.”
“But I’m your dork?” She sounded hopeful.
“Of course you’re my dork. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I hope not; otherwise marrying you might’ve been a mistake.” She reached for the phone, dialing the number on the menu and placing the order. Adam nibbled at her neck as she did so, and she had to stifle a moan of pleasure, slapping the closest part of him-his arm-and giving him a look. When the employee at the other end of the line went to calculate their total, she kicked his good knee lightly.
“Can you not make the poor employee think I’m trying to have phone sex with him? Stop nibbling-stop it,” she only half-protested, closing her eyes and finally giving in a bit. “You suck.”
“Not right now, but I can do that. If you want.”
“Of course I want.”
“Dirty, Laur.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Lauren rushed the rest of the phone call, and Adam was on her practically as soon as they hung up. As it turned out, that twenty minutes or less rule still left them with plenty of time.
Adam just barely got dressed to answer the door for the delivery guy-boxers were enough, he told himself; if they expected anything more from the couple in the honeymoon suite, they had to learn-and tipped him an extra few dollars for sticking to that rule and affording him and Lauren just enough time. He set the box down on the bed and sat cross-legged with his wife.
“So is this what I can expect from married life? Because I think I like this, Champ.”
“It’s what you can expect from married life with me, for now, at least-the best is yet to come. I’m hoping I’m the only one you’re planning to be married to, Laur…”
“I’m not making any promises. But off the record-you’re safe.”
“Good to know.” He reached out to wipe some sauce from the corner of her mouth. “I love you, Lauren. I know I’ve said it-”
“On the dance floor, in our apartment, on the plane, in the taxi, in the elevator, as you carried me in here… yeah, I think you have.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Not at all. You should know that by now.”
“I do.”
“Damn right.”