#austinrobertbutler

Sunday mornings were a contented sigh breathed after a long and arduous week.  Tranquility seemed to seep into the apartment on the sunbeams that peaked through the blinds and bounced off the cream walls in the master bedroom.  The houseplant in the corner next to the nightstand welcomed the light, stretching towards the window with open arms, eager to start the new day with a dose of sunshine.  A soft birdsong gently coaxed the city from its slumber, almost as though its singer was saying, “A new day has begun. Relax and rise with the sun--take your time, darling.” 

Austin loved these moments.  Their serenity became an anticipated standstill in his hectic life, a chance to just… exist.  Maybe savor the little mundane moments with the love of his life on the other side of his bed.

No alarm clock, no pressing appointments.  Just greeting the day with a lazy smile as his eyes slowly opened.  Everything always seemed to be moving so fast that taking time to breathe out his dreams and lay with his thoughts for a while became a necessity to wind down from the week’s stress.  

He’d turn over slowly and peek at the breathtaking girl lying next to him.  He was never in a rush to take her in.  Even in her sleeping state—face squished against her pillow, wild hair, and the small line of drool coming from her mouth—all he wanted to do was bask in her presence.  He loved her soft snores or the way that she’d breathe out a peaceful moan and nuzzle into her pillow when repositioning in the morning, like her body was begging, “just five more minutes, please.”

Sometimes, he’d still be half asleep and reach out to hold her hand, leisurely wrapping his fingers around her tiny fist in a loose grip.  Just enough contact to let her know that he was there, but not enough to wake her up.  Usually, she’d hold his hand, too, and press a sleepy kiss to his thumb as they both fell back asleep in the early hours of the morning.

Spooning all night wasn’t as comfortable as it had been in the honeymoon phase. Romance is not always practical, no matter what the storybooks say.  It left Austin waking up with pain tingling in a dead limb, or their combined body heat under the sheets and comforter woke her in the middle of the night drenched in sweat.  

Most nights started out with their arms around each other to enjoy each other’s warmth, breaths slowing, heart beats syncing, and just before succumbing to the pull of sleep, one would press a kiss to the other before letting go, still close enough to brush against each other if they wanted.  Neither thought poorly of the other because of it--sleep’s a selfish thing and it can’t be helped that always sleeping on top of another person is slightly uncomfortable.  

Besides, little touches like entwining their pinkies or running fingers over shoulders almost meant more because, even under the spell of dreams, their souls always found a way to connect.  It was like nothing would keep them apart.  

This soft morning, however, Austin kept his hands firmly planted under his pillow and his stomach pressed to the mattress as he looked her over.  Savoring the way the mellow light caressed her features, and cherishing the way her scent clung to his skin soothed his appetite for contentment more than a simple touch ever could.  The dark gray sheets still tangled around her bare form, light fabric kissing her skin in the cool morning air creeping in through the ajar window across the room.  He could trace each and every curve of her body with his fingers if he wanted to reach out and touch her; perhaps he’d allow himself to and confirm that she really was lying in their bed and not a dream--a dream he feared he could wake from at any moment.  She was an angel gracing him with her presence, and if he dared indulge his selfish desires and graze her cheek with his hand, she might disappear, ascend back to the holier plane. 

Memories of their firsts, their most recents, and everything in between swirled around his brain.  Heat crawled up his face, igniting a light blush on his cheeks as he recalled the night before.  Flashes of hastened kisses, eager hands, and moans of praise flitted through his mind.  Oh, how he wanted to wake his love, remind her of his affections; she had him completely bewitched, willing to do anything and everything to make her happy.

Perhaps later.  Now, he’d let his angel sleep.

He pushed his body to his elbow and leaned toward her.  His lips slowly, gently, grazed over her hairline.  “I love you,” he whispered.  He lingered a second too long, too eager to touch her soft skin; she let out an untroubled sigh, rolling into his touch.  He couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, but a smile crept to his face nonetheless.  Maybe he’d just kickstarted her journey back to reality from her dreams.  

After loosening the grip of the sheets around his bare legs, he rose from the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress and disturb her.  He padded over to the attached bathroom and the cold marbled floor tile sent a brief shock up his spine at the stark contrast to the warmth in his bed.  Running a hand through his wild curls, Austin paused to take a look at himself in the mirror after he turned on the shower.  A chuckle rumbled in his throat as his eyes wandered over the small red love bites littering his collarbones and neck, not regretting a single one.  Sure, he’d probably have to wear a sweater to avoid the endless teasing that his family would inevitably dish out at dinner tonight, but he didn’t mind having the little reminders on his chest.  They might as well have been little I Love You’s tattooed to his skin.  

He’d already showered and wrapped a towel around his waist by the time she woke.  He could see his angel’s eyes idly blinking open as he flipped on the light in their shared large walk-in closet adjacent to the steamed-up bathroom.  Austin’s tall dresser sat at the back with a variety of his toiletries--deodorant, cologne, jewelry, etc.--sitting on top.  

Despite having an only slightly smaller array of clothes in his wardrobe, he’d opted for the right side of the closet as it had fewer racks and less shelf space so she could have more room for her things even if some of the space was left barren.  He’d joked that it was just an excuse to spoil her with a shopping spree, and she laughingly insisted that she didn’t need him to buy her any more clothes because 1) she could afford it herself, and 2) she didn’t need more items in her wardrobe.

He’d ended up doing it anyway.  What?  He loved spoiling her!  Besides, he loved the way she looked in baby blue, and her wardrobe had frighteningly little of that color, so he just had to rectify that.  And what’s a baby blue wrap dress without a pair of strappy heels and some pretty lingerie to match underneath?  

The light breeze from the window cooled his wet skin, the water droplets on his shoulders stealing his body heat suddenly sending chills down his spine in a gentle reminder that autumn was in the air.  

He could hear the blankets shift in the bedroom as she stretched her rested muscles.  The yawn she let out in the master echoed off the hardwood floors.  He busied himself putting on a pair of black boxers before throwing his towel over the open closet door so it could dry. 

Just as he reached for his deodorant, a soft pair of lips slowly caressed his shoulder, a warm contrast to the chilled droplets dripping down his shoulder blades.  The same smile from earlier returned to his face when her small hands wrapped around his bicep and opposite shoulder as she peppered his muscles with gentle kisses.  

“Mornin’, baby,” he rasped, pleased with her greeting.  He loved the feeling of her lips on his skin.  Her hands slid down his back and slowly snaked around his bare waist, engulfing him in her loving embrace.  Austin could feel the soft silky fabric of her robe pressed into his body, and when he looked down, sure enough, the flowy sleeves were covering her forearms.  Dammit.  He’d thought that she’d get up in the nakedness she’d slept in and give him more of a show this morning.  His digits wound around her wrist near his belly button, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the delicate flesh.

“Mornin’,” she hummed.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.  She was worn out by the time they finally slept in their bed--he’d made damned sure of that.  He could picture the heat rising in her cheeks as she tried to hide her small smile.  

“Mmm mhm,” she sighed.  She wasn’t fully coherent yet; it always took her a while to rouse her faculties completely.  Her hands untangled from his as she pulled away a little, allowing her fingers to graze his sides and tease the waistband of his boxers.  He craned his neck to get a better look at her over his shoulder, meeting her half lidded gaze.  

“Yeah, slept real good,” she added, the sleep lining her voice gradually sloughing off with each word.  The corner of her mouth rose to a half smile and he couldn’t determine if it was from contentment or mischief.  

Her soft touches to his back suddenly traveled lower until she pinched his ass with a chuckle.

“Hey!”  he yelped, not missing her cheeky smirk when he turned to her with a grin. Definitely mischief in her eyes, then.  What was she up to this morning?

He snatched her small figure into his arms, pressing her closely to his chest with his hands firmly around her waist, eyes raking over her robe clad form--the tie hung loosely on her hips, the purple silky fabric barely covering her breasts and convening just below her belly button. 

“Watch it, young lady,” he playfully chastised.  Her head cocked to the side, eyebrow quirked up, and before he knew it her hands were on his butt again with a gentle squeeze before settling at the bottom of his spine.  That brought a full laugh to his chest.  “Is that all I am to you?  A piece of ass?”

“Mmm, yeah,” she giggled.  He couldn’t help but roll his eyes and plant a kiss on her nose.  Contentment swelled in his chest--nothing could possibly ruin this moment, ass objectification and all.  His heart made a silent plea to the universe:  please stop time and let us freeze this moment forever.  Let us frame it and put it on our mantle and revisit on cold nights and melancholy mornings.  All of the mundanity of waking up and getting ready together… it pleased him to no end, gifted from the gods.  He took a mental screenshot of it all:  the lighting, the cool air, the soft silk beneath his fingertips, her mussed hair, the way her eyes sparkled with a little sleep lingering in the corners, and her soft kissable lips smiling up at him.  

Her hand trailed lightly across his side and stomach before softly caressing the marks she’d left last night, clearly proud of her handiwork--or would it be mouth-iwork?  A quiet sigh left his lips as she delicately pressed an agonizingly unhurried kiss to a love bite on his clavicle.  She maintained her pace and made her way up to plant another one to his pulse.  His grip on her hips tightened marginally, but she seemed to take notice and it only spurred her on.  

He sucked in a breath, eyes closing to better focus on her touch.  She raised up on her toes to press one more to his jawbone right below his ear, her hand settling at the base of his throat just above his collarbones.  It was a gentle touch, not an ounce of pressure applied.  To anyone else, her hand rested there to provide balance while on her tiptoes, but he knew better.  It was heavenly.  A low hum reverberated in his chest at the contact.  

Yes, please, keep going, darlin’.  

Her satin lips ghosted along his jawline, stopping just short of his own mouth.  His eyes fluttered open.  Her other hand made its way from his back to his face at a leisurely pace before her thumb grazed over his supple lower lip and lightly gripped his chin.  She pulled him closer to her ever so slightly, and he prepared to meet her halfway with a kiss when she suddenly halted his advances with a firm, albeit gentle, push at the base of his neck.  

“Mm.  I’m gonna go take a shower,” her eyes shot down to his lips, her sensual body language contradicting the nonchalance in her voice as though she wasn’t just barely feeling him up and working him into a tizzy.  

His sweet, innocent little angel had swapped out her harp and halo for a pitchfork and horns.

Oh, so we’re teasing now, huh?  She dropped back down to her regular height, retracting her hands and leaving Austin hanging.  “I feel positively filthy after last night.”  Her salacious tone dripped over him like honey, and he chewed on his lip.  

Yeah, she definitely wasn’t wearing her halo now.  That devilish look told him everything he needed to know:  she wanted to ditch the innocence and wings and do a little sinning.

“Filthy, huh?” he shot back, just as insinuating.  She threw him a wink when she started strutting away.  Before she could get too far, he brought his hand down and gave her ass a quick swat, sending a smirk of his own in her direction.  She giggled at the contact as she sauntered out of the closet, aware of his eyes burning along her curves.  Accentuating the sway in her delicious hips just a little more to keep his attention--she knew exactly how to drive him mad.  

Her manicured fingers scraped down the door frame as she finally left his sight, but, like a show girl leaving the stage, she teased her audience by theatrically tossing her robe in front of the closet door, leaving everything to his raunchy imagination.

Little devil.  He shook his head and chewed on his cheek with a chuckle.  They both loved the game, the chase, and light teasing had quickly become one of their favorite ways to keep each other on their toes.  They loved to sprinkle it between mundane tasks.  One moment would be completely innocent, and then sexually charged for a split second before settling back to normal.  It wasn’t so much that they’d dismiss the moment as it was that neither would openly acknowledge it--there’d be plenty of time for that later.  The build-up was part of the fun.

The low roar of the water cascading from the showerhead and hitting the tiled floor pulled him from his thoughts and signaled him to actually get ready for the day.  He settled on a navy jumper over a white tee and jeans to accommodate the October weather.  The sleeves were a little long on him, which was mildly surprising considering his long lanky limbs, but he didn’t mind.  The closely knit fabric draped comfortably over his arms in a loose fit that made it feel homier and more autumnal, even if they did engulf his palms.  His fingers were long enough, anyway, that it didn’t really cause a problem for him.  

He ran a hand through his hair as he padded into the bathroom again where he could hear a light melody coming from the shower.  She often hummed subconsciously when completing simple mindless tasks.  

Ah, he thought, ‘must be a hair-washing and leg-shaving day.  

She continued her light humming as he brushed his teeth, leaning into the white countertop as he hovered over the sink.  He recognized the tune, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  Where had he heard it before?  His brow furrowed as he tried to place it, following the melody’s notes and beat with his head.  Suddenly, it dawned on him.  

“Are you singing the song from the Chick Fil A commercials?” he laughed out, minty suds still frothing on his tongue.  Her musical giggle echoed off the tile and sent a spark of warmth to his chest. 

“It’s stuck in my head!” she confirmed before wordlessly continuing the same series of notes and pauses.  He spits and rinses the white bubbles from his toothbrush.

“I thought the cottage cheese one was your favorite,” he teased, recalling the time he’d caught her absentmindedly singing it to herself in the bread aisle at the store.  

Without hesitation, she proceeded to belt the jingle.  

“Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese will do!” she sang the phrase twice, and he couldn’t hold back his snicker. “Satisfying and fresh, so creamy and delish!” 

 “Noooooo!” he dramatically lamented, cheeks hurting from his grin, as he grabbed the mousse from the drawer to style his hair--it’s so unruly when he doesn’t put product in it.

“It’s gonna be stuck in my head all day now!” he jested as he spread the mousse on his hands.  

Even with the frosted shower door obscuring her naked form, he knew she was doing a little dance as she got to the last line, drawing out the last note in a satisfying finish with another light giggle as he raked the product through his curls.  “Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese!”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, ya know that?”  he chuckled again.

“Oh, c’mon you love it!”  

“Hm. Suuuurrrreeee.”

Truth is, he did.  Not the jingles--he hated that they’d always pop into his head at the most inconvenient times and he wouldn’t be able to get rid of them for hours.  But he loved how she teased him and made him laugh.  He loved listening to her voice, even if it wasn’t always perfectly on-key with the songs.  He loved laughing with her.  She really was his best friend, and if that meant enduring a few annoying jingles, then so be it.  Not that he’d tell her that--she’d never let him hear the end of it.  Then again, knowing him, he’d probably love that, too.

God, he was so whipped.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them as he manipulated his wavy locks to look presentable, allowing a couple stray strands to coil and fall loose on his forehead in a Superman curl.  After wiping his fingers of the product, he pulled his hand over his chin and the faint goatee he’d been sporting over the past couple days.  Was it time for a shave?  It was getting a little longer than he normally kept it, but he found that the look was, if you’ll pardon the pun, growing on him.  He grabbed his electric razor from the drawer and ran it over the hair, deciding it best to trim it just a little to a short manageable stubble.  He pulled back to admire his work.  

Yeah, he looked good.  A bit of pride inflated his ego--more than it probably should have, but he’d never admit it. Maybe it was just because he woke up happy on a beautiful morning with his gorgeous girl and some light teasing after a night of mind-blowing sex.  Who wouldn’t be on top of the world?

His finger guns shot himself in the mirror with a wink as he clicked his tongue.  

Yeah, I still got it.

A snort sounded behind him, and he quickly dropped his hands as saw his lover stepping out of the shower with her hand covering her mouth to prevent her full laugh from escaping.  He hadn’t even noticed her turn off the water and wrap the towel around her torso.

Oh, damn.    

Ego: deflated.  

Heat flooded his cheeks, crawling into his ears and setting them ablaze.  Suddenly, his jumper almost felt a little too warm.  There was no salvaging the situation. He’d been caught doing the most uncool thing a person could do, so he settled on sending her a sheepish grin and clasping his hands in front of him.  Quite awkwardly.

“Oh my god,” she started, a laugh edging its way into her voice, “I can’t believe you just did that!”  she giggled, shaking her head with a sweet sigh.  “Oh, you’re absolutely adorable.”  She quickly added the last part, eyes taking in his slowly relaxing stance.  

“Yeah, I guess you can say I’m the epitome of cool.” He ran his hand over the nape of his now burning neck.  Better to laugh it off with some sarcasm than to do nothing.

“Oh definitely,” she affirmed as she turned away, passing gracefully into the closet and leaving him with his embarrassment.

He spared himself another tentative glance in the mirror, a quiet chuckle bubbling up his throat.  He shrugged it off, taking a couple minutes to adjust his sweater and the gold necklace under it before heading back to the master bedroom.

He didn’t expect to lean on the doorframe or watch her for so long, but he’d become so enamored with the scene before him that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.  

She sat on their bed, towel discarded and traded in for her underwear:  a blue bra and panty set from their shopping spree.  Droplets from her wet hair dusted her shoulders as she leaned over to grab her beige bottle of lotion, depositing a few pumps of it into her palm.  She’d just spread it on her hands and began rubbing it over her forearms and shoulders when she made eye contact with him through her lashes.  

“You gonna keep leering at me and leaning on the door like a slut, or is there something I can do for you?”  she baited, a smirk lining her lips.  The lightness in her tone let him know she didn’t mind--if anything, this was another way for her to goad him into some kind of trap where she’d leave him hanging again.  

Not this time.

“No, but there’s something I can do for you,” he said casually, pulling his lips between his teeth as he stalked towards her, not breaking eye contact.  Her hands stuttered their circular motions on her triceps.  She raised her brows, expecting him to follow up his statement with some kind of action. 

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the lotion.  She furrowed her brow for a moment as her eyes flitted from the bottle, back to him, then down at her legs briefly before the realization hit her.  She glanced up to meet his eyes as she nodded.

“Go ahead, Mr. Finger Guns.”  He looked down and shook his head with a grin.

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hm.”

He sank to his knees and settled to the floor at her feet, slowly dragging the back of his index finger up her shin and over knee as he reached for the lotion.  He’d nearly put a dollop of the creamy stuff on his hands when--

“Oh hold on,”  she said abruptly, reaching out to his wrists and tugging at the navy sleeves nearly swallowing his hands.  “You’re going to get it all over your sweater!”  Her nimble fingers folded the sleeves back once, twice into a neat cuff.  The proper length a sleeve should be.  “There.”  She patted his wrists before setting hers back on the bed.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured.  His ocean eyes flicked up to hers momentarily for permission as he picked up the lotion again, and when she nodded, he put a few pumps on his hands before turning his attention to the work at hand.  

Gingerly, he took her left ankle in his hand, spreading the moisturizer over the back of her freshly shaved calf, his fingers splaying over the skin and applying just enough pressure to spread the satiny salve and massage the muscle simultaneously.  

He leaned forward with a feather light kiss to the inside of her knee before slipping his left hand over it toward her hip.  Her breath hitched and he had to hold back a smirk.  She wasn’t the only one who knew how to put on a show.

His right hand slid up the back of her leg as the other one guided her knee over his shoulder, the movement reminiscent of last night.  He knew it and she knew it--he could tell by the nearly imperceptible shudder in her breath.  His eyes fell shut on their own accord as he brushed his cheekbone up the soft flesh of her knee and inner thigh as his hands roamed the expanse of her skin.  

He easily recalled her whiny pleas, the way she rolled her hips into his face and pulled his hair, and her taste on his tongue with his name falling from hers in a prayer.  For a brief moment, he debated doing it all again:  giving in to the sinful thoughts running rampant through his head and ending their little game earlier than expected.

But where’s the fun in that?

Instead, he languidly kissed his way down to her ankle and put a respectful distance between them.  Clearing the sexually charged air for only a moment seemed necessary as he resupplied from the bottle and repeated the sensual process on her other leg.  

Just as slow.  Just as intimate.  

When he reached her knee, he spared a glance up at his lover, hoping for some flash of pleasure to cross her features as she looked to the heavens in bliss, a smile, a sigh, a gasp--any morsel of praise that he could greedily drink down and guard close to his heart.  Instead, he met her adoring gaze, which was just as delicious.  His soft smile met hers.  A tiny palm cupped his cheek, and again his eyes fell shut as he leaned into her soft touch, enjoying the way her thumb tenderly brushed over his skin.  

He pressed his lips into the inside of her wrist with as much devotion and endearment he had in his old, romantic, smitten soul. I love you, he nuzzled each word into her skin, praying she could feel him branding the phrase into his lips and sealing it with a kiss.  I love you, I love you, I love you.  

His fingers continued their work kneading circles into the meat of her thigh, over the almost indiscernible hills and valleys that he didn’t know were cellulite, exploring the entirety of her skin.  Despite knowing each and every curve by heart, he wanted to map every inch of her--each scar, stretch mark, mole, and freckle.  Again and again and again.  

Right up to the hem of her panties, that is. 

He pulled away from her reluctantly, his hands trailing back down to her ankles before he went back to the bottle for just a little more.  The way her eyes kept flicking over his kneeling form and how she subconsciously gnawed on her lower lip was not lost on him.  Good, that meant he was doing his job right.

He held her gaze intently as he closed the distance between them, his fingers splaying their way over her hips--he took the moment to gently lean her back, teasing her with the close proximity of their lips, but keeping her pressed into the mattress.  His touch traveled across her stomach, her waist, and her sides, his thumbs grazing just barely beneath the band of her bra.  She squirmed underneath him, sliding her hands up his shoulders and to the nape of his neck, a fire sparking in her eyes.  

Maybe he’d indulge a little after all.

Her lips were magnetic:  beckoning him in slowly before colliding with a passion that left him unable to pull away.  As they kissed with practiced perfection, he allowed his slick hand to graze over her decolletage for a fleeting moment.  It found its home at the base of her neck, his long fingers wrapping around and his thumb gently pressing the remaining lotion on his hands into her skin with a back-and-forth motion.  

She breathed a sigh into his mouth, chasing his lips a little as he pulled away.  His tall body still hovered over her small one, trapping her between him and the bed.  A small smile graced her mouth, her eyes scanning over his face.  Happy, content.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”  he asked quietly, still stroking the skin on her neck.  

“Just you.”  She brought her hand up to his hair, threading her digits through the curls in a loose hold.  “Why?  You thinking about something, too?”

He breathed out a laugh.  “You really wanna know?”  his voice dipped lower, almost a whisper, throwing in just a little of the southern drawl he knew she loved.  “You sure?”

Her eyes flitted to his lips again as she chewed on her lower lip.  He lowered himself down to her ear achingly slow.  He could feel her chest rise and fall a little faster, each breath just a little shallower than the last.  He had her right where he wanted her.  

“Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese will do!” 

She rolled her eyes and playfully scoffed, “Oh, fuck off!”  

“I told you it was going to get stuck in my head!”  he laughed as he stood up, pulling her with him.  He permitted himself another moment of soaking up her presence, tangling their fingers together and kissing her knuckles.

A blush crept into her cheeks and she bashfully avoided his adoring eyes by fiddling with his makeshift cuffs.  She pulled her hands free of his and unfolded his sleeves, allowing the fabric to fall loosely around his hands again.

“I like it like this.  It’s just…” she met his gaze again, her hand pressing gently into his chest and playing with his loose collar.  “It’s adorable.”

That signature smirk spread on her mouth when she spoke again.  “Plus, it’s long enough to keep you from doing anymore finger guns.”