An Outdoor Thing
An Outdoor Thing
Peter sighed happily, contentment radiating through his body. He and Rose were once more at the cottage, had taken advantage of an unusually warm weekend to drive up from Kendal and simply hide. The zanzare had finally sussed out that Rose was, in fact, dating him; wasn’t simply using him to meet some physical needs, or to amuse herself, and they’d descended upon Kendal practically before she arrived.
They had decided over dinner Friday night to flee to the cottage; had snuck out of his house in the middle of the night, had driven straight through to the cottage, had collapsed together in the cold bedroom sometime before the sun rose. He was fairly certain no one had followed them as they had fled northwards; certainly, there had been no headlights behind him during the last fifty miles of the journey. He’d paused only long enough to leave a note on Graeme’s doorstep, begging the delivery of some basic supplies at his earliest pleasure.
Peter always had a supply of coffee in the house; he’d awoken Rose mid-morning by placing a steaming mug of the beverage on the bedside stand, the brew doctored with sugar and milk delivered that morning-freshly collected and still warm. He crawled on top of the covers, stretching along Rose’s body, resting his head on his hand. He reached down with his other hand, gently brushing her hair from her cheek before leaning down to gently kiss her.
She remained asleep, giving no indication at all that she’d felt his kiss.
He began to brush soft kisses over her face-along her jaw, across her cheeks, over her forehead, down her nose, finally stopping once more at her lips. This time she stirred, stretching as she finally awoke from her slumber.
She blinked her eyes open, smiling as she saw him above her. “Hello,” she whispered, her hand sliding up and into his hair.
“Good morning,” he replied. “I thought you might like a coffee, after our flight from Kendal.”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she beamed at him. “Coffee would be lovely, thank you.”
He leaned across her, his hand wrapping around the mug before he returned to his place next to her. “Your wish is my command, milady.”
She propped herself onto her elbows, gratefully accepting the mug and taking a sip. Her eyes closed in an expression of ecstasy, and she groaned, “Delightful.”
“I’m very glad. If that’s seeing to your needs, then, I’ll be off to leave you two alone.” He loved teasing her, loved watching her reaction; he wasn’t disappointed this time.
“If you could do, that would be divine. My coffee and I, we have things to...discuss.”
Their banter remained simple, flirty, carrying them through Rose’s first cup of coffee, up until she had rolled out of bed for a bath. Peter had felt a flash of hope that he’d be invited to share the tub with her; had felt disappointment as she winked at him before gently closing the door to the en suite.
He returned downstairs, unpacking the basic supplies Graeme and Eirlys had been able to provide on short notice. He’d explained things to Graeme when the milk and other goods had been delivered that morning, had provided Graeme some money for the purchase of other goods, including food for supper that night.
By the time Rose walked downstairs, Graeme was once more delivering supplies. Rose had smiled as she saw the farmer, had given him a hug and a kiss on his cheek before moving to help Peter unpack the rest of the packages.
By the time Graeme had left, it was approaching lunchtime. Rose was the one to suggest a picnic, the day outside clear and warm; Peter had been happy to agree and they were soon walking along the beach, Rose carrying a blanket and he carrying the knapsack containing food and other items for a picnic. There were families along the beach, also taking advantage of the fine weather, but-as he knew it would be-the glade was empty, untouched.
They relaxed against each other as they ate a leisurely lunch, enjoying the sunlight filtering through the trees. The light warmed the needles of the evergreens and the grass, and the area was filled with a calm, soothing scent that soon had his eyes drooping.
Rose took his wineglass and their plates and moved them to the side before lying down next to him, pulling him down to rest next to her. “I could do with a nap,” she said, snuggling against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Her hand splayed across his chest, and he soon found himself drowsing in the warm sunlight.
He awoke some time later, the shadows having moved a small bit, Rose still curled against him. He sighed in contentment, his hand stroking along hers as he lost himself in thought.
She stirred, eventually stretching as she came awake. She pressed against him, her body warm against his, and he felt a sudden desire to make love to her in the glade. In the years he’d come to the glade, he’d never once been found by a passer-by-it was perfectly plausible that they’d be uninterrupted, unfound, that they’d be able to make love in the calm confines of his beloved glade. The idea filled his mind, and he began to lightly ghost his fingers along her ribcage, gently teasing her. She tilted her head, looking up at him, her skin still flushed from sleep, her eyes sleepy but interested.
He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss over her forehead. She held his gaze for a moment before moving, stretching upwards so she could press her lips against his. The kiss deepened immediately and he wasted no time in rolling them, Rose laying on the ground under him as he braced his weight over her. He pulled back eventually, threading his fingers through her hair, splaying it out over the blanket. She stared up at him, her hands running lightly along his back.
“D’you reckon we’ll be interrupted?” Rose asked softly.
“I’d reckon not,” he replied, his voice rough.
He bent down again, kissing her gently, moving his hand to cradle her cheek; her hands stilled for a moment before sliding across his ribs, running down towards his waist. Her fingers worked their way under the hem of his jumper, and he sighed as he felt her touch his skin.
Her tongue brushed against his lips then, and he let her deepen their kiss again.
She had managed to slide his jumper up his torso to his armpits by the time he pulled back again. She leaned upwards, intent on continuing their kiss; he pulled back, hastily moving to pull the jumper over his head before leaning down to accede to her wishes.
The feel of her hands dancing across his skin, the warmth of the air, the sensation of kissing her in this glade-they all worked to make him dizzy, and he soon had to break their kiss, laying down to catch his breath. Rose rolled over onto her stomach, watching him, before scooting a small bit closer. She reached forward, her fingers drifting across his jaw; he heard the scratch of her nails over his stubble, and felt his eyes shut at the sensation.
She brushed a brief kiss across his lips before moving away from him; he lazily opened his eyes and felt his heart skip as he watched her take her jumper off. She held his gaze, saying nothing as she moved to close the distance between them. She continued to remain silent, content to simply stroke his cheek as she watched him.
He finally felt the earth stop spinning, and reached up to pull her to him; she leaned forward with a smile on her face, and their lips met in a leisurely kiss.
He felt his jeans grow more confining as she continued to kiss him, her bra rubbing against his skin, her leg sliding between his, her warmth pressing against him. He finally could take it no longer, moved his hands down to unbutton his jeans; he felt her hand follow his, and nearly groaned as she lightly pressed it against his length before working to help him remove his jeans and pants.
He was soon naked, sprawled on the well-worn blanket in the dappled sunlight; Rose was standing, holding his gaze as she finished undressing, as she reached behind her to unclasp her bra. He felt his throat clench as she was revealed to him, the trees of the glade providing the backdrop to the image he couldn’t stop dreaming about, her fair skin once more seeming to glow in the light.
She dropped to her knees at his feet, slowly crawled her way up his body, placing teasing kisses along her way. She paused when she reached his erection, slowly taking him into her mouth, her tongue flicking against him before she languidly drew him out of her mouth. The tip of her tongue danced around his tip, drawing circles on the sensitive flesh, and he fought to keep from groaning.
She moved again, arching so that her breasts rubbed against him as she continued to crawl along his body, the hard points of her nipples providing a delicious contrast to the softness of her flesh. She finally finished her journey, her body sprawled on top of his as her mouth began to suck at his earlobe.
“Peter...” she whispered, releasing his earlobe and blowing against his ear. “Condom.”
He reached blindly for his jeans, knew he had one of the small packets tucked in the back pocket. She moved, straddling him before reaching for the discarded garment, the movements of her body against his making it very hard for him to concentrate.
She held his gaze as she slid the latex onto him, her hand stroking him gently, squeezing on the upstroke, her thumb pressing lightly against his tip on the downstroke. He reached up, his hands cupping her breasts, and he finally saw her eyes flutter shut at the sensation.
“Rose. Make love to me.”
She opened her eyes, watching him as she shifted slightly, as she guided him into her. He heard her breath catch as she came to a stop, able to push him no further; he rested his hands on her hips, waiting for her to set a rhythm. They stared at each other as they paused, the world around them nothing more than background noise and light.
She finally began to move against him, her gaze never leaving his face as she worked to bring herself to completion. He met her each time she thrust downwards, pressing as far as he could. She was backlit, her body silhouetted by the light, her hair a golden halo; he’d never seen something so beautiful.
Her pace increased as she grew nearer to orgasm, her hips grinding against his; he reached up, began to tease her breasts, pinching and rubbing, before pulling her down to him for a kiss.
“My beautiful Rose,” he murmured against her lips, thrusting upwards as her rhythm grew more erratic. “My love. I want to see you come, here, in this place.” He punctuated his words with gentle kisses, his hands holding her to him as she frantically ground into him. “Come for me, Rose.”
He felt her orgasm, her body clenching around his; he kissed her before holding her to him and rolling them. She lay under him, her body still pulsing around him as he began to drive into her. Her hair was pooled on the blanket, the sunlight shining off of it; she watched him, her hands holding his bum and pulling him into her as he worked to find his own release. As he grew nearer, she braced her feet, arching her hips up into him, providing a new angle; he gasped, reaching an arm under her knee and hiking her leg up so he could press further into her. Her eyes shut, a sigh escaping her lips, and she tilted her head back as she arched into him.
He leaned down as he buried himself in her warmth, his mouth nipping the column of her neck, the flat of his tongue sliding along her skin. She buried her hands in his hair, pulling his mouth to hers, giving him a punishing kiss. He moaned, and he felt her lips curve into a smile.
“I want to feel your orgasm, Peter,” she whispered, moving her lips to his ear. “My love.”
His pace increased as he felt his erection harden further; she lightly danced her tongue around the edge of his ear, and he was lost. The sensation rolled up through him, rising from somewhere in his stomach and radiating out through his body, waves crashing through him as he drove into her two, three times more. She held him to her, whispering to him, telling him how it felt, how much she loved it, and he felt another wave of orgasm pass through her body even as his ended.
He released her knee, felt her foot slide down along his leg, and he pulled back. She was looking at him, her eyes warm and dark, her lips a deep red from their activities. She smiled gently at him, reaching up to cup his chin; he felt his lips curve in return, a sense of joy passing through him.
“I love you.” He could hear the awe in her voice as she whispered the words, still so new to both of them.
He felt his heart skip a beat, and took a shaky breath before he replied, “And I you, Rose.” He slid out of her, moved to lay down on the blanket once more before pulling her to him. He ran his hand lightly along his arm, his mind drifting once more. “I could get quite used to this, you know.”
She turned to him, tilting her chin to meet his eye. “What, the shagging outside? The ever-present threat of being stumbled upon by some small child?” Her lips were curved in a smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“No. I could get used to knowing we could do this, whenever we wanted.” He swallowed, terrified of finishing the thought yet needing to. “To...to not having to wait for weekends.”
He and Rose had been dating-sleeping together-for four months. Just four. And yet he’d known from almost the beginning that he loved her, that he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
Weekends-and the sporadic week--together were all well and good, but he wanted more. He wanted to spend all of his time with her; wanted to wake up next to her every morning, wanted to have dinner with her every night. He wanted to be there for her when she’d had a bad day; wanted to be there when she was giddy with delight over a successful case.
He might not want to marry her-he didn’t think he’d ever be up for doing that again-but he wanted to make her a part of his life, and wanted to become a part of hers. More fully, more completely, than they currently were.
Rose’s smile faded, her expression growing serious. “Are...what?”
He pulled her to him in a one-armed hug, before elaborating. “I’m not...I don’t-it’s too soon, Rose, to ask if you wanted to...if you’d be willing to move to Kendal. But...I resent the time I’m not with you. I find myself unaccountably jealous of Jake and, sometimes, even Mickey.” His tone was wry, helping to ease some of the seriousness of the conversation. “They get to be with you Rose, all of the time. And...I just wish we had more time to spend together.”
She raised herself onto an elbow, her hair brushing across his chest as she looked at him. “So do I. Oh, how I do, Peter. But...I don’t...I love you, Peter. So much so it scares me. I just...maybe...this is something we should talk about, a little bit later? After we’ve been together a bit longer?”
She gazed at him, taking in his reaction; seeing some of the disappointment he couldn’t hide, she continued, “I told you about Jimmy Stone, yeah? About...about moving in with him. And while I know it wouldn’t be like that, I’m still...it’s something I just want to take time with.” Her voice held a note of fear, a hint of uncertainty, and he reached up to cup her cheek.
“Ok. I...we can talk about it when you’re ready. Just...I...I’d be willing to move. To London. If you wanted me to.” His hand slid from her cheek, his eyes sliding off to the side. He felt unaccountably embarrassed by the admission that he’d give up everything to move down to be with her.
She leaned down, holding his gaze as she slowly kissed him; he sighed, his eyes closing as he returned it. She pulled back a few moments later, whispering against his lips, “Thank you.”
They lay together for a short while, the sunlight still warm, and the treetops swaying in the breeze from the sea. He felt himself grow sleepy, and finally decided it was time to move. He rubbed his hand against Rose’s arm, and broke the silence. “Whilst I’ve no doubt we could easily lay here all day and remain undiscovered, I do think it’s best to get dressed again and walk back. We could always cuddle in the cottage, after all-and there’s a fireplace there.”
She blinked up at him sleepily, and he brushed a kiss over her forehead. “Let’s get you back to the cottage.”
They dressed in companionable silence before setting to clearing the blanket. The cutlery and dishes were placed back into the knapsack, as were the leftovers; the small carrier bag containing rubbish was tied off. They finally pulled on their shoes, worked together to fold the blanket, before gathering everything up and beginning the walk back to the cottage.
He and Rose held hands for the walk, strolling leisurely along the shore. There were few families left, it being late in the day, and they were alone for much of their walk.
He was surprised when, as they approached the cottage, Rose pulled him towards the table and benches, leading him to sit on them. She gazed at the vista surrounding her, the sun slowly sinking in the west, the sky changing colours in the east, over the cottage. He in turn gazed at her, drinking in the sight of her so totally at ease--hair mussed, clothes wrinkled, Rose Tyler simply being Rose Tyler.
He loved her desperately.
She turned to him after a few moments of silent contemplation, her eyes drifting across his face, and he smiled softly at her. “D’you like what you see?”
“Oughtn’t you be naked when you’re asking that?”
“I am,” he whispered, holding her gaze.
She leaned forward, kissing him gently, before pulling back. She swept her eyes over the view to the east, before returning her attention to him. She reached forward, taking his hand in hers. “I...the blues, and the greens, the sea and the sky and the grasses; your glade, with the sky overhead. It’s perfect.” Her voice ended in a whisper, her eyes having moved back to the cottage.
“It is.”
“’s magical, this place.”
“I’ve always thought so.”
“I love it here, Peter. I...I don’t think I ever told you that, last time.”
“You didn’t need to. But I’m glad.”
The sat together a bit longer in silence, each of them knowing something important had happened between them, was still happening, and neither one of them wanting to break the spell. Eventually the temperature dropped; he noticed Rose shivering and stood, extending a hand to her before walking with her back to the cottage. Their cottage, now; he didn’t think he’d ever be able to think of it any other way.