Henry Cavill Fantasies

Why Are You So Weird

It was in the way that he moved gracefully throughout the tiny one bedroom apartment kitchen that intrigued her. Such a large man, able to weasel his way into the tightest of corners to retrieve a utensil he had lost in the midst of his awkward dancing.

"Henry," she leaned forward across the tiny square table, her cheek pressed against her curled fist.

Standing up straight and turning around to face her, she could see his brow was raised, his way of answering without verbally speaking.

"Why are you so weird?" She asked him seriously.

He thought about it for a second, shrugged his broad shoulders and while making a face, he said, "I just am?"

She laughed lightly and lowered her gaze ro a speck of nail polish forever stained on the old table and then said, "I don't mind it. It's quite entertaining watching you dance around my kitchen and losing my things in the cracks and crannies," she lifted her gaze back to him and rose from the chair. "But can you not lose my things? They're quite precious to me."

Henry chuckled in response, setting down the spatula he had dropped into the sink and then walking over to her. He pulled her into his arms, on arm snaking around her waist while the other around her shoulders and he hugged her.

She hugged him back, his waist small enough for her arms to wrap around and her hands to actually overlap. She marvelled at his figure, the way his shoulders and chest were so broad and his waist so small. She could think of no better man than Henry Cavill to fill the role of Superman. In her opinion, he had even looked every bit like the comic book character.

Taking a step back and breaking their hug, she looked up at him. "I'm not a fan of that mustache," she admitted with a crooked smile.

"What?" He clearly had taken offence to her comment. "Why? What's wrong with it?" He began stroking it.

"It's... odd without the beard." She had struggled for the right word and was now stroking along his prickled jawline. "I like your beard."

His brows furrowed making the lines on his forehead and around his eyes visible, she knew why. "I thought you hated it."

"Only when you go down there," she averted her gaze. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as she tried her best to avoid his penetrating stare and then added, "It quite hurts, you know?"

"I don't," there was a softness in his tone, one that forced her to look back at him.

She smiled softly and moved closer, she loved being in his arms and feeling the warmth of his body against hers.

"Guess what,"

"What?"

She slid her arms from around his waist to press the palms of her hands on his pecs and then stood up on her toes to press her lips to his. He didn't take long to respond. His grip on her waist grew tighter as one hand tangled in her hair. She felt his tongue gliding over her lips, asking... no, begging for access. As much as she wanted to give in, the faint smell of something burning made her deny him.

"Henry?" She murmured against his lips.

"Hmm?"

Pulling back from him forced him to open his blue eyes completely and stare at her until the scent registered with him and he was quickly pulling away and racing back to the stove.

"Imagine if I had opened my mouth," she said trying to hide her smile behind her hand. He glanced out the corner of his eye while turning down the burner. "Need any help?"

"No."

"Fine," she was still smiling while she held up her hands. "I'll be in the bedroom when you're done."

Dropping her hands to her side, she turned around and walked to the bedroom. Back in the kitchen she could hear the clattering of pots and pans, followed by the sound of the oven being turned off. She had to bury her face into her pillow she silence her laughter at the sound of his hurried, heavy footsteps.

When the bedroom door squeaked open, she lifted her head and turned to find Henry entering the room. Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched him with a raised brow.

"That didn't take long," she said, smirking.

He didn't reply, but he didn't need to. Three years of dating had taught her how to read his facial expressions better than anyone.

Henry stood by the bed, leaned over to grab her legs and he pulled her to him. She rolled onto her back, legs dangling over the edge of the bed and she watched as he lowered himself over her to kiss her.

Their lips met and this time, hers parted when asked. She wrapped her arms around his neck and slid her fingers into his dark wavy hair while he slid one arm around her waist to pull her close and lift her up. With the other he used it to move then both easily across the bed so that he could lay down with her.

She smiled into his kiss, a feeling of complete happiness warming the pit of her belly. It was moments like these when they shared the bed together, tangled in one another and free of their clothing, she felt truly happy because in those moments, he was hers and hers alone.

Apologies, but it may be some time when I'll be able to post a lot more. Things at work have been a little hectic and I hardly have any free days this week and judging by the schedule I may even be called in on my day off.