Believe It Or Not (An Eddie Munson Story)

The King

"What do you say to some fried chicken and French fries tonight?" I call over my shoulder, expecting Eddie to be across the room. His arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me flush against his chest and I gasp, startled by his proximity but not hating it. Never hating it. 

"Sounds amazing," he hums deeply in my ear and goosebumps spring up and down my neck and arms. I waddle to the fridge with him still clinging to me and duck down to grab the eggs, my rear pressing against Eddie's hip and he groans. I smile and straighten back out, ignoring him and moving to find the flour. I press firmly against the counter, coming up on my toes and arch up, opening the cabinet and stretching to grab the flour. 

"Ripley," Eddie warns, his voice low and sultry and I smile to myself again, unable to help it. 

"What, Eds?" I say, faking innocence. I wiggle slightly, still reaching for the flour and failing to grasp it. "I can't reach it." 

Eddie practically growls and moves forward, his heavy hand clasping my hip as he presses into my back. I can feel his desire against my hip as he reaches up and pulls the flour down. He slams the bag against the counter, a small cloud puffs up in the air, making me giggle. 

"See now was that so hard," I grin knowingly up at him and he rolls his eyes. 

"Tease," he groans bending to kiss my nose. 

"Yes, but you love it." 

He sighs loudly in defeat, but he doesn't deny it. He moves away from me, slightly adjusting the front of his pants and sits at one of the chairs at the table. 

"Are you just going to watch me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him and he nods, a smirk on his lips. 

"It's one of my favorite things," he says simply and I shake my head. I turn to the food and pull a skillet from under the stove. I set it up on one of the burners, turning on the gas until a flame jumps to life. Eddie gets up for a moment only to turn music on the stereo in the living room before resuming his position at the table. My eyebrows furrow though in surprise when Elvis blares from the speakers. I turn to gaze confused at him as he strums his fingers against the table. He shrugs with a small smile. 

"Wayne loves the king," he says and I smile, turning back to the chicken. The thermometer in the oil indicates it's ready so I take the flour coated breasts and place them carefully in the oil, listening to the sizzle. 

Eddie comes up behind me as I open the bag of French fries and dump them on a baking sheet. He wraps his arms around my waist and his mouth is inches from my ear as he contorts his voice to mimic Elvis'. He moves his hands down to my waist, helping to move my hips along with his as he copies Elvis' signature pelvic thrust. I laugh loudly as he sings in my ear.

"We're caught in a trap. I can't walk out. Because I love you too much, baby. Why can't you see what you're doing to me? When you don't believe a word I say?"  Eddie sings and I practically melt against him, still giggling like a school girl. Under different circumstances I would have the mindset to be a little embarrassed at how silly I'm behaving, but I don't care. I simply love this man too much to give a damn. 

Eddie grabs the baking sheet and pulls the oven open, setting the fries inside before slamming the door shut, all while keeping me tucked into his side. When the song comes to an end, he kisses the side of my neck, making my eyes close heavily and I sigh into him. 

"I love you," he whispers and I smile as he pulls away, leaving me to attend to the chicken. 

Eddie continues to sing along as the next Elvis song plays and I happily listen, but his attention is divided as he pulls his D&D notebook from his bag and starts to scribble away inside. Every once in a while, our eyes meet as he looks up from his page and he winks, making me blush.