all things must pass » the beatles, queen and the backstreet boys

6- John Deacon

He was, quite frankly speaking, the finest specimen I'd ever seen.

Perhaps this wasn't the most comfortable of situations, nor the most prim and proper, but it was when I found him most beautiful.

He was crouched down, half-sitting on the floor, half-balancing himself on these impossibly high heels in a squat, so it probably wasn't the easiest position on his legs. But still, with rock-hard determination, he didn't seem to want to get up any time soon.

I'd taken a place beside him on the floor, sitting with my legs crossed underneath me, watching him with my chin on my fist, as he tried with all his might to assemble the wooden crib we'd just bought.

Just watching his gorgeous face focused on what he was doing was like watching an artist paint his favorite picture.

Almond-shaped greenish-grey eyes narrowed even more as he brought each piece together, he was slowly bringing the crib to life from the instructions manual.

My eyes trailed down to his slim nose, long but dainty in the most aphrodisiac of ways, and to the sweet rosy lips that always fell back in an endearing smile, or graced me with a tender kiss.

Irresistible was the urge to make my way to him, and run my fingers through his mousy brown waves that reached the middle of his back that was oh-so-tense in this position.

"You can't be too comfortable like that, darling," I pointed out.

His head whipped back for a moment, before grinning at me, "Oh no, it's quite alright," he softly said, "I'm almost done anyways, and you've been absolutely no help," he jokingly narrowed his eyes at me.

Shrugging, I gave him a smirk, "I'm pregnant, and you know I shouldn't be doing any heavy labor."

"Heavy labor, she says," he scoffed playfully, and I couldn't resist the urge to grab his face and plant a kiss right were he was teasing me just seconds earlier, reveling in the view of his eyes widening in surprise, then relaxing shut like in some sort of daze, before his calloused but warm hands trailed to my waist and brushed softly at the skin there.

Still moving my mouth sweetly against his, I sneakily began to lift him up from the damned position he was in, until he was finally standing up at full height and had me standing on the tips of my tiptoes to still kiss him.

Pecking my lips a couple of times, he titled my chin towards him, as thought watching every curvature of my face as he left his tender kisses.

"Does that count as help?" I mumbled between kisses.

"Most definitely, love."

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