Vanilla Kiss: G, Fluffy Romance
Birds chirped from the branches of the majestic oak tree behind them. Sunlight filtered through the thick foliage overhead, dappling the grass and dirt path with spots of light that danced and swayed to the wind’s song. The park bench was wood and worn steel and Sergei stretched one arm across the back around David’s shoulders, resting his cheek against his lover’s hair as the fresh air and quiet seclusion filled them both with an overwhelming sense of content peace.
“Shit.”
Sergei raised an eyebrow, shifting his faze from the squirrels playing in the tree across the path to the man sitting close beside him. David’s forehead was creased in a vaguely irritated expression as he eyed the dollop of vanilla ice cream that now lay on his fingers, trickling down the back of his hand from the wafer cone held in his grasp.
“Don’t swear,” Sergei murmured, squeezing his shoulder and tilting his head. David obligingly raised his hand, watching fixedly as Sergei lapped the melted cream from his skin, lips closing around individual fingers and sucking gently until all of the icy treat was gone but for the stickiness on his hands and Sergei’s mouth.
David stared at Sergei’s mouth.
“You know I don’t like vanilla, right?” he asked as his lover leaned back, licking his lips.
“Yes, I do,” Sergei replied equitably, catching David’s gaze and smiling.
“Then why did you buy me a vanilla cone?”
The smile took on a wicked tone. Sergei shifted, sliding over, straddling David’s hips and taking him by the wrists, stretching their arms out to their sides. Vanilla dripped onto the bench as he caught his lover’s mouth with his own, sharing a sticky-sweet kiss that David moaned into, parting his lips eagerly; tasting Sergei beneath the flavor of vanilla. He breathed in air from Sergei’s lungs as their tongues twined and pressed together, barely caring as the ice cream cone slipped from his lax grip; instead reaching up and burying his fingers in Sergei’s hair. Tangled sticky strands stuck to his skin as he pulled him insistently closer, nipping at his lips, sucking at his tongue. When they finally broke apart they both were panting and Sergei’s smirk had evolved from wicked to smugly self-satisfied.
“Because I like vanilla.”
-
“Shit.”
Sergei raised an eyebrow, shifting his faze from the squirrels playing in the tree across the path to the man sitting close beside him. David’s forehead was creased in a vaguely irritated expression as he eyed the dollop of vanilla ice cream that now lay on his fingers, trickling down the back of his hand from the wafer cone held in his grasp.
“Don’t swear,” Sergei murmured, squeezing his shoulder and tilting his head. David obligingly raised his hand, watching fixedly as Sergei lapped the melted cream from his skin, lips closing around individual fingers and sucking gently until all of the icy treat was gone but for the stickiness on his hands and Sergei’s mouth.
David stared at Sergei’s mouth.
“You know I don’t like vanilla, right?” he asked as his lover leaned back, licking his lips.
“Yes, I do,” Sergei replied equitably, catching David’s gaze and smiling.
“Then why did you buy me a vanilla cone?”
The smile took on a wicked tone. Sergei shifted, sliding over, straddling David’s hips and taking him by the wrists, stretching their arms out to their sides. Vanilla dripped onto the bench as he caught his lover’s mouth with his own, sharing a sticky-sweet kiss that David moaned into, parting his lips eagerly; tasting Sergei beneath the flavor of vanilla. He breathed in air from Sergei’s lungs as their tongues twined and pressed together, barely caring as the ice cream cone slipped from his lax grip; instead reaching up and burying his fingers in Sergei’s hair. Tangled sticky strands stuck to his skin as he pulled him insistently closer, nipping at his lips, sucking at his tongue. When they finally broke apart they both were panting and Sergei’s smirk had evolved from wicked to smugly self-satisfied.
“Because I like vanilla.”
-