[fic post] Just One Night
So, I know I missed the last half of the month of October for drabbles, and I'll post them up eventually (most of them aren't even written at this point, lol), but for now here's another entry to my 30_kisses challenge. I tried to leave the ending fairly ambiguous, to allow for both fluffy, angsty and whatever other interpretations people can come up with.
Also available at FF.net.
Fandom: Harvest Moon: Rune Factory
Pairing: Russell/Tori
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon, or these characters, as they belong to Yoshifumi Hashimoto.
Just One Night
Russell was half-asleep when he felt the covers shift and a warm body silently join him beneath them. He knew at once that it was not Cecilia, because his daughter was always much louder in her crawling into his bed, and she was much smaller than the figure he felt pressing up against his cool back. She also didn't feel as warm as this particular person, who he had at least discerned was a woman, most likely wearing very little clothing.
He wondered if he was hallucinating. Perhaps something he had let Cecilia help him prepare for dinner earlier that evening had actually sickened him? This seemed highly probable - after all, it hadn't been two weeks since the last time one of his daughter's attempts at making a dish ended with him experiencing odd effects later in the night. Of course, they had never been this pleasant, which made him want to confirm his theory all the more.
He slowly removed the hand he had shoved beneath his pillow from its hiding place and pinched his own cheek as hard as he could. Tearing up a bit as he released himself, he rubbed at the now-tender area on his face before realizing that the warmth and touch of the mystery woman was still present. Pretty certain that he was conscious at this point - though no less tired than he had been when he'd first shoved himself beneath his covers - he surmised that now to prove he wasn't imagining things he would have to confirm that the source of the warmth was actually there. Swallowing louder than he had intended, he slowly reached a hand behind him, and immediately came into contact with the very soft, very warm, very real skin of a young woman's naked thigh.
He retracted his hand after a brief hesitation as if the feeling had burned him, when really it had been one of the most pleasant textures he'd ever encountered. He felt his face beginning to warm and redden steadily as the thought that, “There is a scantily-clad woman in my bed,” became more and more plausible.
Realizing that this was not entirely appropriate with a barely-ten-year-old girl in the next room over, he quickly tried to adjust so that the unknown woman's front was not pressed so closely against him. He immediately missed the warmth, but found it easier to roll over and face this strange circumstance after pulling away.
Russell liked to think that his eye sight wasn't all that bad without his glasses, but the sight before him made him severely doubtful that his eyes were in fine working order. The fact was, an angel was laying before him, and that simply couldn't be. Despite the darkness, the dim light of the moon coming through the windows illuminated long, blonde hair pooling beneath her cheek and neck, creamy, unblemished skin and a pair of delicate blue eyes peering intently into his own. A pair of eyes he knew all too well.
“Tori,” he breathed, once again starting to believe that this was, sadly, just a dream. Even without her pigtailed braids and trademark glasses, he recognized her. How could he not when they spent practically every day together? Despite this, he still had the nagging concern that Cecilia was only a room away, and opened his mouth only to be silenced by a kiss. His words were quickly swallowed up and forgotten as the kiss deepened, and only after several breathless moments did he remember his original protest. Reaching his hands out from beneath the blankets to grip her bare shoulders and force her back gently, the kiss broke with a wet “pop,” followed by a minute of heavy breathing as the two regained their wits.
“T-Tori,” he fumbled, more than a little embarrassed by the shakiness of his voice before clearing his throat and attempting again.
“Tori, I-- we-- it's just-- Cecilia is right next door... I-I can't.”
“No, she isn't,” came the reply, the angel's voice more serene and calm than he had ever heard before. “She's spending the night at Sabrina's home this evening.”
Again, he began to convince himself that he really was still asleep. He had forgotten that tonight was Cecilia's long-awaited slumber party with her young friend Nicholas, leaving the library child-free for the night. These factors combined made him lose all desire to protest when the young woman opposite him quietly shifted closer to him once again. With her body pressed up against him once again, he decided that she was, in fact, completely naked, and failed to prevent his body's natural reaction to the contact. She only smiled, which in effect, turned him on even more, and he instinctively reached a hand up to cup her face and began pulling her chin up to meet his when she spoke.
“Russell...”
Her voice snapped him back to attention and he almost let go of her, but she had placed her own slender fingers above his own, keeping them in place.
“Russell,” she echoed, her voice strong yet soft as her smile disappeared and her eyes searched his own, “spend the night with me. Just one night...”
He paused, startled by the sudden nervousness in her voice, before smiling himself and stealing a kiss. Her eyes still held doubt and question, and he answered in a quiet hum, “As you wish. But does it have to be just one night?”
--
When Russell awoke later, he could not recall her answer, or if she had even answered at all. The next several hours were filled with surprisingly passionate sex he hadn't experienced in a long while. Despite her inexperience, she still looked ethereal in the moonlight from over his shoulders, and when she fell asleep in his arms, she felt even more like an angel. However, even without his glasses, he could tell that his bed was now decidedly empty, with the exception of himself.
Maybe it had been a dream? He dressed slowly, still a little tired despite not being entirely positive that he hadn't imagined all that exercise, before heading downstairs to open up the library. He had slept in today without Cecilia home to wake him, but there was still another ten minutes before he actually needed to unlock the front doors. However, just as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard a gentle knock and let out a sigh, though a smile now rested on his face.
“No harm in opening early, I suppose.”
Upon opening the large front doors, he was quite surprised to find Tori smiling shyly at him - though he supposed by now, he really shouldn't be - her nose pink from the winter cold and her breaths visible in the morning air. After a moment of hesitation, he quickly ushered her inside, closing the doors to stop any more cold from pouring in.
“I... I hope you don' min' me being... early,” she mumbled as she peeled off her hat and gloves, her voice influenced by a developing cold he noted.
“N-No, it's fine.”
His own voice betrayed some of his confusion, but the young woman didn't notice. In fact, for the remainder of the day - up until lunch time where he demanded she go home since she neither looked nor sounded very good - she barely paid him any mind, though he realized that was only natural. After all, he'd only imagined everything.
But the memory of that night continued to bother him for the rest of the day, the rest of the week, and pretty much through the rest of the year. In that obscure place between dream and reality, while he had reasoned that Tori probably hadn't stopped by and visited him, he wondered if he had conjured the image of Tori himself. Or, if an angel actually had stopped by to grant a redeemed man his only wish:
Just one night with the girl of his dreams.
Also available at FF.net.
Fandom: Harvest Moon: Rune Factory
Pairing: Russell/Tori
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon, or these characters, as they belong to Yoshifumi Hashimoto.
Just One Night
Russell was half-asleep when he felt the covers shift and a warm body silently join him beneath them. He knew at once that it was not Cecilia, because his daughter was always much louder in her crawling into his bed, and she was much smaller than the figure he felt pressing up against his cool back. She also didn't feel as warm as this particular person, who he had at least discerned was a woman, most likely wearing very little clothing.
He wondered if he was hallucinating. Perhaps something he had let Cecilia help him prepare for dinner earlier that evening had actually sickened him? This seemed highly probable - after all, it hadn't been two weeks since the last time one of his daughter's attempts at making a dish ended with him experiencing odd effects later in the night. Of course, they had never been this pleasant, which made him want to confirm his theory all the more.
He slowly removed the hand he had shoved beneath his pillow from its hiding place and pinched his own cheek as hard as he could. Tearing up a bit as he released himself, he rubbed at the now-tender area on his face before realizing that the warmth and touch of the mystery woman was still present. Pretty certain that he was conscious at this point - though no less tired than he had been when he'd first shoved himself beneath his covers - he surmised that now to prove he wasn't imagining things he would have to confirm that the source of the warmth was actually there. Swallowing louder than he had intended, he slowly reached a hand behind him, and immediately came into contact with the very soft, very warm, very real skin of a young woman's naked thigh.
He retracted his hand after a brief hesitation as if the feeling had burned him, when really it had been one of the most pleasant textures he'd ever encountered. He felt his face beginning to warm and redden steadily as the thought that, “There is a scantily-clad woman in my bed,” became more and more plausible.
Realizing that this was not entirely appropriate with a barely-ten-year-old girl in the next room over, he quickly tried to adjust so that the unknown woman's front was not pressed so closely against him. He immediately missed the warmth, but found it easier to roll over and face this strange circumstance after pulling away.
Russell liked to think that his eye sight wasn't all that bad without his glasses, but the sight before him made him severely doubtful that his eyes were in fine working order. The fact was, an angel was laying before him, and that simply couldn't be. Despite the darkness, the dim light of the moon coming through the windows illuminated long, blonde hair pooling beneath her cheek and neck, creamy, unblemished skin and a pair of delicate blue eyes peering intently into his own. A pair of eyes he knew all too well.
“Tori,” he breathed, once again starting to believe that this was, sadly, just a dream. Even without her pigtailed braids and trademark glasses, he recognized her. How could he not when they spent practically every day together? Despite this, he still had the nagging concern that Cecilia was only a room away, and opened his mouth only to be silenced by a kiss. His words were quickly swallowed up and forgotten as the kiss deepened, and only after several breathless moments did he remember his original protest. Reaching his hands out from beneath the blankets to grip her bare shoulders and force her back gently, the kiss broke with a wet “pop,” followed by a minute of heavy breathing as the two regained their wits.
“T-Tori,” he fumbled, more than a little embarrassed by the shakiness of his voice before clearing his throat and attempting again.
“Tori, I-- we-- it's just-- Cecilia is right next door... I-I can't.”
“No, she isn't,” came the reply, the angel's voice more serene and calm than he had ever heard before. “She's spending the night at Sabrina's home this evening.”
Again, he began to convince himself that he really was still asleep. He had forgotten that tonight was Cecilia's long-awaited slumber party with her young friend Nicholas, leaving the library child-free for the night. These factors combined made him lose all desire to protest when the young woman opposite him quietly shifted closer to him once again. With her body pressed up against him once again, he decided that she was, in fact, completely naked, and failed to prevent his body's natural reaction to the contact. She only smiled, which in effect, turned him on even more, and he instinctively reached a hand up to cup her face and began pulling her chin up to meet his when she spoke.
“Russell...”
Her voice snapped him back to attention and he almost let go of her, but she had placed her own slender fingers above his own, keeping them in place.
“Russell,” she echoed, her voice strong yet soft as her smile disappeared and her eyes searched his own, “spend the night with me. Just one night...”
He paused, startled by the sudden nervousness in her voice, before smiling himself and stealing a kiss. Her eyes still held doubt and question, and he answered in a quiet hum, “As you wish. But does it have to be just one night?”
--
When Russell awoke later, he could not recall her answer, or if she had even answered at all. The next several hours were filled with surprisingly passionate sex he hadn't experienced in a long while. Despite her inexperience, she still looked ethereal in the moonlight from over his shoulders, and when she fell asleep in his arms, she felt even more like an angel. However, even without his glasses, he could tell that his bed was now decidedly empty, with the exception of himself.
Maybe it had been a dream? He dressed slowly, still a little tired despite not being entirely positive that he hadn't imagined all that exercise, before heading downstairs to open up the library. He had slept in today without Cecilia home to wake him, but there was still another ten minutes before he actually needed to unlock the front doors. However, just as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard a gentle knock and let out a sigh, though a smile now rested on his face.
“No harm in opening early, I suppose.”
Upon opening the large front doors, he was quite surprised to find Tori smiling shyly at him - though he supposed by now, he really shouldn't be - her nose pink from the winter cold and her breaths visible in the morning air. After a moment of hesitation, he quickly ushered her inside, closing the doors to stop any more cold from pouring in.
“I... I hope you don' min' me being... early,” she mumbled as she peeled off her hat and gloves, her voice influenced by a developing cold he noted.
“N-No, it's fine.”
His own voice betrayed some of his confusion, but the young woman didn't notice. In fact, for the remainder of the day - up until lunch time where he demanded she go home since she neither looked nor sounded very good - she barely paid him any mind, though he realized that was only natural. After all, he'd only imagined everything.
But the memory of that night continued to bother him for the rest of the day, the rest of the week, and pretty much through the rest of the year. In that obscure place between dream and reality, while he had reasoned that Tori probably hadn't stopped by and visited him, he wondered if he had conjured the image of Tori himself. Or, if an angel actually had stopped by to grant a redeemed man his only wish:
Just one night with the girl of his dreams.