Hatchetfield.

young lovers and they are not sleeping

Pete wakes to his bedroom still dark and a warm weight against his side. He glances at the clock on his bedside table and sighs. It's not even three yet. The television has long since turned itself off and the room is only softly illuminated by the fairy lights Steph had insisted that he add.

He turns his head to look down at her and smiles. She looks peaceful, her expression soft and slack and mouth slightly parted. She still struggles with nightmares, they both do, so he's glad to see that so far her dreams have been sweet. She's wearing a faded t-shirt of his, he can't see the design from here but he can see where the tag at the neck has been cut out. There's been a steady decline in the amount of shirts and jumpers in his wardrobe, only for them to turn up in Steph's laundry. Although he's not much better. Half of Steph's jumpers fit him, so as the temperature drops he's found himself pulling on a jumper, only to look down and not recognise it at all.

Steph shifts in her sleep, a soft murmuring sound escaping her. He catches her eyebrows twitching and watches carefully. Pete shifts a hand out from under the covers and slowly strokes her hair. Her expression smooths and she wiggles closer to him, her head settling onto his chest just below his chin. She snakes an arm over his side and he relaxes. The room is dark and Steph is warm. Pete lets his eyes flutter shut as he falls back asleep.

When he wakes again, Steph is gone. He groans slightly and turns to check the time. It's just past six. Steph isn't an early riser and the mattress next to him is still warm so she's probably just in the bathroom. The sheets have been pulled up to his chin and he smiles at the gesture.

After a minute, he hears a door across the hall close quietly, and then his bedroom door is slowly pushed open. Steph glances over at him and pulls a face when she sees his eyes open.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" Her voice is still rough with sleep and he slowly sits up, shaking his head. Without his glasses her figure is fuzzy and, backlit by golden fairy lights, she looks like she's stepped out of a dream. She smiles and steps closer to the bed. He can make out the design on the shirt now. It's old Doctor Who merch, the printed Dalek almost fully worn away. "Not quite woken up yet, huh?" She sits down on the bed and pulls the covers up over herself. Pete shifts slightly so he's facing her instead of them being shoulder to shoulder. Her expression is loose and unguarded. She looks younger, like this. More like the teenager she should be, not the adult she's been forced to become. He reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, then leaves his hand resting against the side of her face.

"Good morning." His voice is quiet and gravelly. He coughs to try to clear the sleep from it. Steph's smile widens at the sound and he sees the pink of her tongue between her teeth.

"Good morning." She replies, just as quiet. She leans in closer so their foreheads are nearly touching. "Is there a reason we're being so quiet?" Her expression is teasing. He wants to live in this moment forever.

"I love you." Her face softens and her eyes flick up to meet his. No matter how many times he tells her, she always softens and  surprise will fill her face, as if she's never heard him say it before.

"I love you too, Pete." And no matter how many times she tells him, his cheeks heat and he can't help the smile that breaks across his face.

Steph leans in and presses her lips to his. Her lips are soft and she tastes of spearmint. He turns his head to deepen the kiss and she braces her hands on his shoulders, shifting herself so she's sitting in his lap. His face heats and he breaks away.

Their faces are still close, and they're almost eye to eye now. Steph smiles coyly, looking up at him through her lashes, although he's gratified to see that her face is flushed too. Her eyes are dark and her lips are swollen and although he manages to bite back a groan, he can't help the way his hips jerk. He closes his eyes in mortification and she giggles. He tips his head back and lets it thunk against the headboard. She leans impossibly closer, her chest pressed against his, and he makes a futile attempt at moving himself away. Her hands trail up his neck to cup his face.

"Pete." She sings-songs. He can feel her warm breath against his face and he sighs, opening his eyes. Steph's expression is pleased. "There you are. C'mon, you can't hide now, I thought we were having fun?" He mock-glares down at her.

"You're evil." She giggles again and shifts in his lap, pressing against him. Her hands fall back down to grip his upper arms and his head drops down, forehead resting against the top of her hair.

She rocks against him gently and he puts his right hand on her hip to steady her atop him. He lets the other slip under the hem of the stolen t-shirt and trail its way up her stomach. She sighs contentedly as he starts to palm her breasts. Steph leans back to catch his eye.

"If I'm so evil, I guess I should stop?" Despite her words, she picks up the pace. Her cheeks are still flushed and her breathing begins to speed up. He kisses her again, short and sweet, and then she breaks away to plant her lips to his neck. Pete moans as she nips at his pulse point and he feels her smile against his skin. He lets his hand drop from her breasts to her waist and she whines at the loss, although it quickly turns into a gasp as he pulls her down hard against him.

After a few moments of steady, focused grinding, Steph lets out a high, gasping moan, then shudders hard against him and stills. He feels her swallow hard as she catches her breath and he tries not to move, although he winces as she shifts slightly against him. She leans up to capture his lips again, reaching down at the same time to grind the heel of her hand over his covered cock. He moans against her mouth, stuttering out her name, and his hips jerk frantically once, twice, three times, and he's done.

Pete leans back against the headboard feeling satiated and boneless. Steph comes with him, her head against his chest. His mind is quiet and for a few moments he lays there, just listening to their joint breathing.

His brain slowly starts up again and he wrinkles his nose at the stickiness in his boxers. Steph sighs and shifts against him. He can feel her breathing slow and he gently rolls her off of him before she falls back asleep. Her head drops to the pillow, long hair splayed out around her. She pouts and he nearly folds and pulls her back against him, but he sees the way she shifts her hips and pulls a face.

He cautiously stands, but luckily the brief respite has helped his legs from shaking too badly. Pete rounds the bed, heading for the door. Steph rolls onto her side to watch him go and he can't help but double back to kiss her again. She smiles into it, her eyes soft as he pulls away.

"You're such a dork, Spankoffski."