Try

Expanded from "Try"
Date/Timing: 24 December 2014
Setting: a bed & breakfast; Gariepdam, FS, South Africa
.
Pietr pulls away—
Griet whines, chases up on her elbows.
—smiles shyly (and /god he's gorgeous blushed like this), sits back on his heels, reaching for the bedside table.
She queries, sits properly.
A bit of foil crinkles between his fingers, then flutters to the sheets.
::Do we ....:: Deep breath. ::Do we want to start trying for ...?::
Griet eases back into the pillows. ::I was taking birth control until this morning, so it probably won't work.::
A slight pout. ::That's not an answer.::
She grins. ::Yes, let's try.:: 
He sparkles, flicks the condom to the floor.
Griet laughs, takes hold of his hips.
He shuffles forward, leans over her, a hand braced on either side of her head.
(/God, he's /gorgeous with his eyes huge and dark like this.)
Pietr holds steady.
“What're you waiting for?” she teases.
Pietr flushes pinker, shakes his head clear of whatever thoughts made him hesitate, then smiles and nips along her jaw.
Griet uses her last brain cells to guide him into place.
He sighs, breath warm on her neck.
She shivers, shifts her hips, and it's oh so /good, a blur of /want-please, and then she's dragging her nails across his back and biting down on his collarbone.
Another few moments of motion and Pietr huffs against her throat, withdraws, and flops beside her.
She wiggles over, kisses his nose.
He glows at her.
They sigh, snuggle closer.
Griet wakes up.
Pietr sleeps on.
She kisses him, flicks her tongue against his lips.
He returns the kiss, blinking sleepily.
(He's so /cute when he's dozy like this.)
“We should wash up.”
Pietr heaves a sigh, heaves himself to his feet, shuffles to her side of the bed—
::What're you—?::
—scoops her up, cradles her to his chest, crosses to the washroom.
Griet whines when he sets her on her feet in front of the shower. She turns to him and pouts.
He pecks her cheek, bats his eyelashes.
She relents, adjusts the temperature and flow just the way they like it. She steps in and basks in the steam.
Pietr—and a puff of cool air—join her.
Soaping each other turns to touching, to kissing, to her back pressed to the tile, her legs cinched around Pietr's waist, his hands under her thighs, her hands tangled in his curls, begging him “Don't stop please don't stop.”
When he /does stop, Griet oozes to her feet, panting against his shoulder.
He smiles against her temple, sighs happily.
This time soaping each other leads with rinsing and toweling off before they stagger back to the bed and collapse, limbs tangled and both completely spent.
Category:Ficlet
Category:Forging of a Skeleton Key storyline
Category:Griet
Category:Griet's POV
Category:Griet (ficlet)
Category:Pietr
Category:Pietr (ficlet)
Category:Vaudéville are married
Category:Vaudéville have a sex life
Category:Ficlets with images