Fic: 3:00 AM, Barack/Michelle
Title: 3:00 AM
Author rock_bottom
Rating: R
Pairing:Barack Obama/Michelle Obama
Summary: A little 3 AM post convention bliss.
Notes/Warnings: A little fluffy, but I hope it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Of course, these are real people and I'm making this stuff up, there's no truth in my musings. Also, I'm taking a free ride with fact here, as I have no idea exactly where Barack and Michelle were immediately following the final day of the convention. My first polific...
The day had been insanely long for both of the Obamas -hours ago, Barack had given the speech of his life - while millions watched from the stadiums and across the world. Hours before, confetti of three patriotic colors had fallen on the heads of Barack and Michelle, their two daughters, Joe and Jill, the Biden family and the thousands of supporters and media that filled the stadium of Invesco Field to its brim.
But now it was a quiet moment - the children were sleeping soundly after the excitement, the campaign was ready to mobilize for the final stretch of the election season, and everyone with bated breaths was settling in for the battles to come. Tomorrow would be a new day for the campaign, and next week the Republicans would have their shot at stealing the show with their own convention (and unknown to them at the moment, his rival would make a stunning announcement that morning).
They were both tired now, though still blissfully entrenched in the excitement of the evening. Barack stood in the center of the bedroom, pulling his loosened tie away from his neck. Michelle sat on the bed, her heels kicked off in a corner of the room, her face flushed from the wine she'd shared with Barack and the Bidens after the convention, where they celebrated briefly before all conceding to venture off to bed.
She yawned slightly, and reached around to unzip her dress, a task she knew was impossible, but worth attempting anyway. Barack noticed this from the corner of his eye, and as his tie landed on the back of a chair, was turning toward the bed to face her.
"C'mere, let me get that."
She smirked out of the side of her mouth, rose to her feet, and winked at him as she crossed around the bed to stand in front of him. His eyes met hers and didn't depart, and his hands reached around her back to find the zipper of her dress and pull it down. The feel on his hands on her back made her smile and rock forward on the balls of her feet, and she leaned into him, the scent of her perfume cascading over him as her head found his shoulder.
He closed his eyes and dropped his chin on her head, the softness of her hair tickling his skin lightly. He pushed away at the dress, and it left her shoulders, sliding away to were it would soon be forgotten in oblivion. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly as she exhaled when his fingertips grazed the flesh of her shoulder blades.
They held each other like that for a long moment, never saying a word. Both of their minds were racing with millions of thoughts, but there was nothing that could erase or even trump the importance of this moment. Moments like this had become rarer and rarer the further Barack drifted into politics, and it was a sacrifice that Michelle made willingly.
But when the moment was here...
He finally moved, pulling the dress with enough force that it reached her hips, which gave him a wonderfully enjoyable opportunity. She smiled as his hands navigated her lower curves, sending the dress to a heap pooled around her feet with a tug here and a pull there. She could feel a chill race up her back, but he evaporated it when he wrapped his long arms around her and pulled her even closer into his embrace.
She separated from him then, just enough so that she could look up at him. He smiled immediately, and it was so broad that she smiled and eventually laughed. He laughed too, but then she was unbuttoning his shirt.
It didn't take long for the shirt to go away - or the pants, for that matter. The socks remained. He cupped her face in his hands, brought her lips close to his and kissed her so passionately that she rocked on her toes. She was nearly his height, so such tasks were simple, and soon she was rivaling his passion in her return of the exchange.
Her back was to the bed, and with a little force, he backed her toward it, their mouths still captivating one another. The back of her legs met the bed, and with out any resistance, she sat while he climbed over her. He was leaning forward at an awkward position, and he broke the kiss to look at her.
"Scoot up," he told her, and she laughed and did so, so that she was squarely in the center of the bed.
He grinned again, staring at the sight of her, and she patted the bed expectantly, her lips parted slightly, her hair now just a little tousled. He took the hint and lay beside her, burying his face in her neck and adoring it with kisses, gentle nips, and a few passionate bites. She closed her eyes, laid her head against the pillow, and ran her fingers over the back of his head. His fingers were at work ridding her of her undergarments.
Another chilly draft blew in, and the two of them, now both freed of all annoying fabrics, were wrapped in each other's arms, their bodies tangled together as they kissed and giggled, as their hands found each other and produced varying degrees of pleased responses from each other. He pulled the covers around them, and the moonlight shone in and cast blue highlights in her dark hair. He thread his fingers though her tresses, she purred and kissed his cheek.
Wrapped snugly in the covers, he climbed onto her, and both their moans and cries filled the room throughout those late hours of the night. Their laughter and hard breathing left them both shaken and more exhausted than they had been before, but not in the drained, harried way they usually were from the days' stresses. This was the exhaustion of passion and love that left them both staring into each other's eyes, arms securely holding the other as close as possible as they shivered, bodies lined with sweat but not daring to part.
They murmured words of love to each other, joked in whispers and exchanged soft kisses. He buried his face in her neck again, and she bit her bottom lip through her smile, curling her toes slightly.
"What time is it?" he inquired into her collar bone. They would have to be up early in the morning, and some how they would have to catch a few hours of sleep.
Still joyously wincing from the sweet torture he was committing to the crevice below her chin, she craned her head slightly to the side to glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. She smirked, and turned back to him.
"It's...Three am."
He started to laugh and pulled her closer, and now with her face in his neck, she began to laugh, too..
Author rock_bottom
Rating: R
Pairing:Barack Obama/Michelle Obama
Summary: A little 3 AM post convention bliss.
Notes/Warnings: A little fluffy, but I hope it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Of course, these are real people and I'm making this stuff up, there's no truth in my musings. Also, I'm taking a free ride with fact here, as I have no idea exactly where Barack and Michelle were immediately following the final day of the convention. My first polific...
The day had been insanely long for both of the Obamas -hours ago, Barack had given the speech of his life - while millions watched from the stadiums and across the world. Hours before, confetti of three patriotic colors had fallen on the heads of Barack and Michelle, their two daughters, Joe and Jill, the Biden family and the thousands of supporters and media that filled the stadium of Invesco Field to its brim.
But now it was a quiet moment - the children were sleeping soundly after the excitement, the campaign was ready to mobilize for the final stretch of the election season, and everyone with bated breaths was settling in for the battles to come. Tomorrow would be a new day for the campaign, and next week the Republicans would have their shot at stealing the show with their own convention (and unknown to them at the moment, his rival would make a stunning announcement that morning).
They were both tired now, though still blissfully entrenched in the excitement of the evening. Barack stood in the center of the bedroom, pulling his loosened tie away from his neck. Michelle sat on the bed, her heels kicked off in a corner of the room, her face flushed from the wine she'd shared with Barack and the Bidens after the convention, where they celebrated briefly before all conceding to venture off to bed.
She yawned slightly, and reached around to unzip her dress, a task she knew was impossible, but worth attempting anyway. Barack noticed this from the corner of his eye, and as his tie landed on the back of a chair, was turning toward the bed to face her.
"C'mere, let me get that."
She smirked out of the side of her mouth, rose to her feet, and winked at him as she crossed around the bed to stand in front of him. His eyes met hers and didn't depart, and his hands reached around her back to find the zipper of her dress and pull it down. The feel on his hands on her back made her smile and rock forward on the balls of her feet, and she leaned into him, the scent of her perfume cascading over him as her head found his shoulder.
He closed his eyes and dropped his chin on her head, the softness of her hair tickling his skin lightly. He pushed away at the dress, and it left her shoulders, sliding away to were it would soon be forgotten in oblivion. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly as she exhaled when his fingertips grazed the flesh of her shoulder blades.
They held each other like that for a long moment, never saying a word. Both of their minds were racing with millions of thoughts, but there was nothing that could erase or even trump the importance of this moment. Moments like this had become rarer and rarer the further Barack drifted into politics, and it was a sacrifice that Michelle made willingly.
But when the moment was here...
He finally moved, pulling the dress with enough force that it reached her hips, which gave him a wonderfully enjoyable opportunity. She smiled as his hands navigated her lower curves, sending the dress to a heap pooled around her feet with a tug here and a pull there. She could feel a chill race up her back, but he evaporated it when he wrapped his long arms around her and pulled her even closer into his embrace.
She separated from him then, just enough so that she could look up at him. He smiled immediately, and it was so broad that she smiled and eventually laughed. He laughed too, but then she was unbuttoning his shirt.
It didn't take long for the shirt to go away - or the pants, for that matter. The socks remained. He cupped her face in his hands, brought her lips close to his and kissed her so passionately that she rocked on her toes. She was nearly his height, so such tasks were simple, and soon she was rivaling his passion in her return of the exchange.
Her back was to the bed, and with a little force, he backed her toward it, their mouths still captivating one another. The back of her legs met the bed, and with out any resistance, she sat while he climbed over her. He was leaning forward at an awkward position, and he broke the kiss to look at her.
"Scoot up," he told her, and she laughed and did so, so that she was squarely in the center of the bed.
He grinned again, staring at the sight of her, and she patted the bed expectantly, her lips parted slightly, her hair now just a little tousled. He took the hint and lay beside her, burying his face in her neck and adoring it with kisses, gentle nips, and a few passionate bites. She closed her eyes, laid her head against the pillow, and ran her fingers over the back of his head. His fingers were at work ridding her of her undergarments.
Another chilly draft blew in, and the two of them, now both freed of all annoying fabrics, were wrapped in each other's arms, their bodies tangled together as they kissed and giggled, as their hands found each other and produced varying degrees of pleased responses from each other. He pulled the covers around them, and the moonlight shone in and cast blue highlights in her dark hair. He thread his fingers though her tresses, she purred and kissed his cheek.
Wrapped snugly in the covers, he climbed onto her, and both their moans and cries filled the room throughout those late hours of the night. Their laughter and hard breathing left them both shaken and more exhausted than they had been before, but not in the drained, harried way they usually were from the days' stresses. This was the exhaustion of passion and love that left them both staring into each other's eyes, arms securely holding the other as close as possible as they shivered, bodies lined with sweat but not daring to part.
They murmured words of love to each other, joked in whispers and exchanged soft kisses. He buried his face in her neck again, and she bit her bottom lip through her smile, curling her toes slightly.
"What time is it?" he inquired into her collar bone. They would have to be up early in the morning, and some how they would have to catch a few hours of sleep.
Still joyously wincing from the sweet torture he was committing to the crevice below her chin, she craned her head slightly to the side to glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. She smirked, and turned back to him.
"It's...Three am."
He started to laugh and pulled her closer, and now with her face in his neck, she began to laugh, too..