fic: first snow, leslie/ben, pg13
title: First Snow
author:
shornt
pairing: Leslie/Ben
rating: PG13 (light suggestiveness)
words: ~1400
notes: This takes place the morning after the last scene in Smallest Park, just to clarify. There's little more than cuddly fluff. Thanks to fairytiger for the usual hand holding.
Leslie wakes up, bracing herself for an onslaught of worrying thoughts. One of the reasons she hardly sleeps is that her mind never really stops, and she tends to wake up in a flurry of ideas and questions and answers and--
But nothing. The second her mind lurches, she zeroes in on the arm haphazardly flung across her own. And instead of panic, she feels… grounded.
So he's definitely snoring, but it's cute snoring. She never guessed that snoring would be cute, but it is when his hair is sticking up and his nose is smushed against her pillow, his arm reaching out to her even in unconsciousness.
She really, really missed waking up with Ben in the morning, so much that she can't process the fact that she gets to do it again. It's kind of like walking on air, waking up next to him. Like there's a million things to rediscover and everything she wanted to tell him but didn't and all the things there still are to learn about him and--
Really, Leslie, slow down. It's not even… eight in the morning, yet.
Ben's never been a huge morning person, so she slips out of bed soundly, brushes her teeth to clear her head. There's an extra chill to her bedroom and she looks out the window to see Pawnee's first snow of the year. Her heart hop-skips for a second; there's nothing quite like clean, shining, untouched snow. There's not a lot of it, and the tips of the still-green grass peek through. But it still feels weirdly like possibility. Like a clean slate.
And maybe she really, really wants to have a snowball fight.
Her eyes flick back to Ben. He kind of didn't stop smiling once last night, so she thinks it wouldn't be horrible to wake him up early. She bounces back onto the bed, watching his sleeping form jolt against the mattress.
"Ugh, god, really?" he mumbles against the pillow. She giggles and, before she can get away, his arm catches her around her waist as he pulls her against him. "What is it? Five? Six?"
"Seven-thirty," she answers, settling against him. The bed's nice and warm, and she nearly forgot how comfortable this is. Just a lazy morning, not a care in the world…
Except there are maybe a million things she should be caring about right now. Her campaign and what a scandalous boyfriend might do to it, her job and how her stickler boss might take it away, her life and how she's taking a huge risk that could change everything--
"You're thinking too hard," he breathes against her skin, kissing her lightly where neck meets shoulder.
"You're not even looking at me," she pouts.
"I can tell. Stop."
He lets out a long exhale; she turns in his arms and kisses the tip of his nose, closes her eyes and breathes him in.
"It snowed last night."
"Oh yeah?" She can hear his smile, breaking through his rough-edged morning grumble.
"It's really pretty. You should go look."
"I don't know, I'm pretty comfortable here."
Without warning, his arms tighten around her body, pulling her on top of him as he rolls onto his back. He moves his hands to her face as he leans in to kiss her, bending his knees so she ends up straddling him. Her nose wrinkles.
"Morning breath," she grouses, turning her face to press warm kisses against his jaw. "Ouch. Also stubble. You've got some grooming to do."
"I know, I'm so high maintenance," he sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically. She laughs, burying her face in his chest. But she notices him still for a moment beneath her.
"Leslie," he starts, and his voice is clearer, more serious. She lifts her head, planting her hands on his chest so she can look up at him. "How are we gonna do this?"
Her eyes look away from him and she bites her lip; how the hell is she supposed to know? All she knows right now is that, this? Right here? Feels pretty awesome. And she wants to keep it like that.
"I still don't know." She rolls off him, drapes an arm around his middle. "We just… tell Chris and see what happens?"
"It's not gonna be pretty."
"I know. But it's worth it." Her hand slides up to his cheek, angles his face so she can look him in the eye. This is Important, with a capital I. It says so on the pros and cons list in her mind. She should probably transfer that to paper, soon, just to make sure.
"Your campaign?"
She sighs heavily.
"I'm still running," she says resolutely, with no room for question. "If Pawnee wants what's good for their town… they can have me, but they'll have to accept you, too."
Ben looks like he's struggling to process that, like he doesn't know what to do when he's give so much importance. She lifts herself up on an elbow to hover over him, grabs his hand and holds on tight.
"This is going to be important now, okay? You're important."
"Really?" he asks, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Yeah, of course. I, uh…" She clears her throat awkwardly, surprised by where this has veered. But also… not shocked at all. "I love you." As natural as breathing. She half laughs, half cries in a weird bark of a noise, looking up at him in surprise, repeating herself. "I love you."
Before she can catalogue the look on his face, he's flipped her into her back, pressing her against the mattress, his mouth steadfast against hers. Morning-breath-be-damned. When he comes up for air, he looks at her like something new, like he's just discovering her, like she's some wondrous new being.
"I've loved you for, like… a long time," he says quietly, lowering his head, his nose nuzzling against her ear. "A really long time."
She slides her arms up his back, sighs against his temple. This is… everything. And she draws a sharp breath as she realizes; this is it.
And yeah, this was it. last night when she decided to screw the rules and he went right along with her, kissing her in that tiny park like it was the only thing he'd ever need to do. And this was it. when she undressed him in her living room, hoping his cardigan would stay draped over her chair so he'd have a reason to come back. And this was it. when she fell asleep tangled together, his heartbeat gently drumming against her.
But now it's morning, and the sun is up and the landscape is new, and this is still it.. They're still doing this. She still loves him.
She expected using that word to be weird, avoided it specifically to tether herself. But it isn't. Why hasn't she just let herself think it all along?
"You probably want to have a snowball fight, right?"
Yeah. She's definitely in love with him.
"Maybe."
"Well, let's get a move on." He swings his legs over the side of the bed, drawing the comforter around himself as he makes way for the bathroom. Leslie squeaks at the shock of cold air and haplessly attempts to burrow under the sheets, which are rolled into a useless ball at the foot of the mattress.
"Ben! It's freezing."
He stops at the threshold of the bathroom, turning around with his eyebrow raised.
"Oh, you're coming with me." And he advances, pouncing on her as she breaks into a fit of laughter, squirming against him as he somehow gets her and the comforter and himself squeezed into the bathroom. But he kicks the blanket away, pulls her by the waist into the shower. She looks at him inquisitively, and he responds with a shrug.
"Should warm up before going out in the cold, right?"
He turns it on and draws her close, and well. She isn't going to argue with that logic. Even if it's flawed.
author:
shornt
pairing: Leslie/Ben
rating: PG13 (light suggestiveness)
words: ~1400
notes: This takes place the morning after the last scene in Smallest Park, just to clarify. There's little more than cuddly fluff. Thanks to fairytiger for the usual hand holding.
Leslie wakes up, bracing herself for an onslaught of worrying thoughts. One of the reasons she hardly sleeps is that her mind never really stops, and she tends to wake up in a flurry of ideas and questions and answers and--
But nothing. The second her mind lurches, she zeroes in on the arm haphazardly flung across her own. And instead of panic, she feels… grounded.
So he's definitely snoring, but it's cute snoring. She never guessed that snoring would be cute, but it is when his hair is sticking up and his nose is smushed against her pillow, his arm reaching out to her even in unconsciousness.
She really, really missed waking up with Ben in the morning, so much that she can't process the fact that she gets to do it again. It's kind of like walking on air, waking up next to him. Like there's a million things to rediscover and everything she wanted to tell him but didn't and all the things there still are to learn about him and--
Really, Leslie, slow down. It's not even… eight in the morning, yet.
Ben's never been a huge morning person, so she slips out of bed soundly, brushes her teeth to clear her head. There's an extra chill to her bedroom and she looks out the window to see Pawnee's first snow of the year. Her heart hop-skips for a second; there's nothing quite like clean, shining, untouched snow. There's not a lot of it, and the tips of the still-green grass peek through. But it still feels weirdly like possibility. Like a clean slate.
And maybe she really, really wants to have a snowball fight.
Her eyes flick back to Ben. He kind of didn't stop smiling once last night, so she thinks it wouldn't be horrible to wake him up early. She bounces back onto the bed, watching his sleeping form jolt against the mattress.
"Ugh, god, really?" he mumbles against the pillow. She giggles and, before she can get away, his arm catches her around her waist as he pulls her against him. "What is it? Five? Six?"
"Seven-thirty," she answers, settling against him. The bed's nice and warm, and she nearly forgot how comfortable this is. Just a lazy morning, not a care in the world…
Except there are maybe a million things she should be caring about right now. Her campaign and what a scandalous boyfriend might do to it, her job and how her stickler boss might take it away, her life and how she's taking a huge risk that could change everything--
"You're thinking too hard," he breathes against her skin, kissing her lightly where neck meets shoulder.
"You're not even looking at me," she pouts.
"I can tell. Stop."
He lets out a long exhale; she turns in his arms and kisses the tip of his nose, closes her eyes and breathes him in.
"It snowed last night."
"Oh yeah?" She can hear his smile, breaking through his rough-edged morning grumble.
"It's really pretty. You should go look."
"I don't know, I'm pretty comfortable here."
Without warning, his arms tighten around her body, pulling her on top of him as he rolls onto his back. He moves his hands to her face as he leans in to kiss her, bending his knees so she ends up straddling him. Her nose wrinkles.
"Morning breath," she grouses, turning her face to press warm kisses against his jaw. "Ouch. Also stubble. You've got some grooming to do."
"I know, I'm so high maintenance," he sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically. She laughs, burying her face in his chest. But she notices him still for a moment beneath her.
"Leslie," he starts, and his voice is clearer, more serious. She lifts her head, planting her hands on his chest so she can look up at him. "How are we gonna do this?"
Her eyes look away from him and she bites her lip; how the hell is she supposed to know? All she knows right now is that, this? Right here? Feels pretty awesome. And she wants to keep it like that.
"I still don't know." She rolls off him, drapes an arm around his middle. "We just… tell Chris and see what happens?"
"It's not gonna be pretty."
"I know. But it's worth it." Her hand slides up to his cheek, angles his face so she can look him in the eye. This is Important, with a capital I. It says so on the pros and cons list in her mind. She should probably transfer that to paper, soon, just to make sure.
"Your campaign?"
She sighs heavily.
"I'm still running," she says resolutely, with no room for question. "If Pawnee wants what's good for their town… they can have me, but they'll have to accept you, too."
Ben looks like he's struggling to process that, like he doesn't know what to do when he's give so much importance. She lifts herself up on an elbow to hover over him, grabs his hand and holds on tight.
"This is going to be important now, okay? You're important."
"Really?" he asks, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Yeah, of course. I, uh…" She clears her throat awkwardly, surprised by where this has veered. But also… not shocked at all. "I love you." As natural as breathing. She half laughs, half cries in a weird bark of a noise, looking up at him in surprise, repeating herself. "I love you."
Before she can catalogue the look on his face, he's flipped her into her back, pressing her against the mattress, his mouth steadfast against hers. Morning-breath-be-damned. When he comes up for air, he looks at her like something new, like he's just discovering her, like she's some wondrous new being.
"I've loved you for, like… a long time," he says quietly, lowering his head, his nose nuzzling against her ear. "A really long time."
She slides her arms up his back, sighs against his temple. This is… everything. And she draws a sharp breath as she realizes; this is it.
And yeah, this was it. last night when she decided to screw the rules and he went right along with her, kissing her in that tiny park like it was the only thing he'd ever need to do. And this was it. when she undressed him in her living room, hoping his cardigan would stay draped over her chair so he'd have a reason to come back. And this was it. when she fell asleep tangled together, his heartbeat gently drumming against her.
But now it's morning, and the sun is up and the landscape is new, and this is still it.. They're still doing this. She still loves him.
She expected using that word to be weird, avoided it specifically to tether herself. But it isn't. Why hasn't she just let herself think it all along?
"You probably want to have a snowball fight, right?"
Yeah. She's definitely in love with him.
"Maybe."
"Well, let's get a move on." He swings his legs over the side of the bed, drawing the comforter around himself as he makes way for the bathroom. Leslie squeaks at the shock of cold air and haplessly attempts to burrow under the sheets, which are rolled into a useless ball at the foot of the mattress.
"Ben! It's freezing."
He stops at the threshold of the bathroom, turning around with his eyebrow raised.
"Oh, you're coming with me." And he advances, pouncing on her as she breaks into a fit of laughter, squirming against him as he somehow gets her and the comforter and himself squeezed into the bathroom. But he kicks the blanket away, pulls her by the waist into the shower. She looks at him inquisitively, and he responds with a shrug.
"Should warm up before going out in the cold, right?"
He turns it on and draws her close, and well. She isn't going to argue with that logic. Even if it's flawed.