The cool evening air nipped at your exposed skin as you stood on your boyfriend's front porch, your fingers curled into a fist as you tapped on the door. You were mentally cursing yourself for not wearing a coat, as goosebumps were now creeping along your skin.
Before you managed to freeze to death, the door swung open, revealing a grinning Scott McCall. "Hey babe," he greeted, and you returned his smile, stepping into the warm house.
After pushing the door shut, he turned to you, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders and pulling you in for a hug. You placed your arms around his waist, leaning into him and breathing in his oh so familiar scent.
"Hey, where's your mom?" You inquired, glancing around.
"She had some last minute Christmas shopping to do, so she won't be home for a while. We'll probably be finished with everything when she gets back." He took your hand, leading you into the kitchen.
"Before we do anything, we need some music playing." You strolled off to the living room, sifting through the collection of cds that was stored beneath the tv. You located a Christmas album and placed it in the cd player before happily walking back into the kitchen where Scott was pulling things out of cabinets.
The two of you were planning on making cookies that evening, and once they were all finished you were going to take them to the sheriff's station to give to the whole police force. "Here," you spoke, slipping a piece of paper out of your pants pocket and placing it on the counter.
"This is the recipe, we're making gingerbread men. We don't have to make just men, though, we can do other shapes," you explained.
"Sure, I think we have some cookie cutters around here somewhere. At least, we used to anyway. I'll look for some."
"Good. Okay, I'll need you to help me find some things from the recipe because I don't even know where your mom keeps anything in here."
Scott nodded, a wide smile playing at his rosy lips. "Sure. What do you need?"
You turned your attention towards the recipe card and began naming things off, Scott showing you where they all were in the process. "Um...I think I have everything now," you finally spoke, "except for flour. Do you know where that is?"
"Actually, that's the one thing I don't know where to find."
You simply shrugged. "Then let's look for it." You opened the cupboard nearest to you, only to be met with an assortment of cups, but no flour. You went through two more cupboards before you finally located a tub of flour on the top shelf.
"Ah," you piped up, "I found it."
You stood on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab it. But the shelf proved to be too high, and you could just barely reach it. "Let me get it," came Scott's voice as he came to stand next to you.
"No, I can do it." You grunted slightly, trying to lengthen your posture as you reached even further. Suddenly, you felt the touch of Scott's hand on your tummy, which was slightly exposed from your shirt which was riding up.
You gasped at the cool touch, immediately pushing your shirt down. "Sorry," Scott said with a grin, "I couldn't help it." Then he promptly reached up and pulled the flour down with ease, and you rolled your eyes at the cheeky look on his face.
"Show off," you muttered.
"Only for you." He placed a kiss on your cheek before waltzing away to set the flour down with the rest of the ingredients.
You followed after him, reading over the recipe before holding up the flour bin. "First the flour goes in, then the spices," you mused, pulling open the lid. From then on, things commenced smoothly, the two of you taking turns adding things to the mixture until finally, the dough was finished.
"Alright, I'll put flour down on the table and we can roll out the dough. Go find those cookie cutters," you directed, and Scott spun on his heel, kneeling to look in one of the lower cupboards as you sprinkled flour on the kitchen table.
Moments later, Scott was beside you, holding a small container that was home to an assortment of cookie cutters and presses. "Wow, there's a lot in there," you remarked, examining all the different shapes.
"Yeah," came Scott's reply, "my mom bought a ton of them when I was younger so we've just always had them, even though she doesn't really have much time to bake anymore."
"Well, we'll definitely be putting them all to good use, then."
You fished the dough out of its bowl, roughly setting it on the table before rolling it out with a floured rolling pin. Finally, you both began to cut out shapes, creating Christmas trees, snowmen, and even little stocking shapes.
But truth be told, Scott was making it extremely hard to focus on the task at hand, as he kept taking moments to place random kisses along your face and neck every so often. Eventually, it was just you creating cookie shapes while he devoted his complete time to kissing at your warm neck.
"Okay, Scott, I'm flattered that you wanna kiss me but we have like, eight dozen cookies to get done, and it's kind of a lot of work for just me," you finally said, turning to face him.
He only offered a knowing smirk, pressing a soft kiss to your nose. "I know, I just can't help it. Not to mention, you smell insanely good."
"Well keep your hands to yourself until after we finish the cookies, then you can touch and kiss me all you want."
He shook his head, a playful eye roll dancing across his face. "Fine."
He then stole the cookie cutter you were using, deciding to use it himself. "Hey!" You exclaimed, reaching to grab it from him, "I was in the middle of using that!" You jumped from the floor, only to bump the table with your hip and send the flour container clattering to the floor, causing flour dust to explode everywhere.
"Oh my god, seriously Scott?"
"Hey, it's not even my fault!"
"It partly is! You took the cookie cutter from me!" You shot back.
"But you bumped the table!" He waved his arms, and then looked at you, "but really, you look ridiculous right now."
You raised your eyebrows at him, looking at him from head to toe. "Um, you look even more ridiculous, McCall."
"Nah, I think you have me beat on the ridiculousness scale."
You only shook your head at him. "Whatever. C'mon, let's get all this flour cleaned up before we finish the cookies."
The two of you set out on a mission to clean up the mess that was practically covering the whole kitchen, not to mention the fact that the both of you were also covered in white dust, too. You took to sweeping and Scott held the dustpan, and soon, the floor was finally cleared.
"Okay, if we can go like ten more minutes without spilling something everywhere, that would be great," you huffed as you finally came back to the table to finish making cookie shapes.
You managed to succeed in going ten minutes without causing anymore disasters in the kitchen, and soon all the cookies were finished and neatly laid out on their baking sheets. Because there were so many dozen, you were only able to put three in at a time.
"Here are two more to set on the counter so we can put them in right when the others are done baking," Scott suggested, handing you two more making sheets. You quickly took them, sliding them onto the counter.
As you turned to head back to the table to clean up the mes you'd made, your feet lost traction on the floor, which was still a little dusty from the flour, and you went sailing onto the tiles, landing on your back.
"Ow!" You yelped, your whole body jarring from the impact. Scott was immediately by your side, his eyes wide.
"Whoa, are you okay?" He inquired, checking your body for any signs of injury, just like he always did whenever you got hurt.
"I'm totally fine, Scott," you assured him, "here, help me up."
You reached for his hand, and once he clasped it, you playfully jerked him down so that he practically fell on top of you.
"What was that for?!" He exclaimed, placing his hands against the floor.
You shrugged carelessly. "I saw the opportunity and took it."
He raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at his lips. "Y'know, I feel like I should've been expecting that," he muttered.
"Yeah, you should've."
For a moment, he sat there, his legs draped over your own, and then he glanced at your face, his eyes twinking. "You have flour on your face."
You reached up to wipe your face, but he shook his head. "It's still there."
You wiped at your face yet again. "Did I get it?"
He laughed. "No. Here, let me." He reached over, brushing his fingers over your cheek. Then he pulled you closer by the face, discreetly pressing his soft lips to your own.
"There wasn't anything on my face, was there? You just did that so you could kiss me."
He shrugged. "Of course."
You rolled your eyes at him, shoving his shoulder. "It was a cute gesture but come on, that kiss was weak."
"You think you can do it better?"
"Psh, I know I can do it better. C'mere." You grasped his collar, pulling him flush against you before bringing your lips to his, kissing him deeply. He instinctively slipped his arms around your waist, holding you so there was no empty space between your bodies.
"You're right, you can do it better," he admitted after pulling away for air.
"Shut up." You brought your lips back to his, making sure the kiss was deeper than before.
With no thought of consequence, you pushed him so that he was on his back, maneuvering to be able to straddle his hips. You kept your mouths connected still, your hands roaming across his body, deciding to settle on holding on to his shoulders.
After that, it was like a switch had been flipped. You couldn't keep your hands off of one another, only focused on what was happening in the heat of the moment. Your lips moved together, tattooing themselves on one another.
"I love you," Scott gasped against your mouth, and you raked your fingers through his hair.
"I love you too."
From then on, everything happened in a frenzy. Scott's cool hands found their way beneath your top, running along your smooth skin as you disconnected your lips to place sweet kisses along his jawline and neck, relishing in his scent and body heat.
A breathless groan slipped from Scott's throat as you softly nipped at the lobe of his ear, knowing full well that it was one of his more sensitive points.
"S-stop," he mumbled, "we're totally gonna end up having sex on the kitchen floor and that doesn't sound like the best idea to me."
"Why not?" You continued to trail wet kisses up his neck, sucking on different parts of the skin.
"B-because, it's not very romantic."
"Who cares." You gently grazed your teeth against his bottom lips, and his next move surprised you. He grabbed you by the hips, moving so quickly that you didn't realize what was happening until he'd pinned you against the floor.
"I care."
"Okay, fine, I have to check on the cookies anyway," you reluctantly replied, moving to get up from the floor, but Scott stopped you.
"I may have said we shouldn't have sex on the floor, but that doesn't mean we have to stop making out." The stupid grin on his caramel toned face made you roll your eyes, but smile back at him nonetheless.
"How could I say no to you?" You mused before he shoved you back onto the tiles again, bringing his already swollen, over-kissed lips to yours again.
This time, it was open mouthed and almost desperate, your tongues meeting within the intensity. You were so wrapped up in one another that you didn't even notice the smell of smoke that was slowly filling the air. It was only until the smoke alarm began to go off that you realized what was happening.
"Shit!" You cursed, shoving your boyfriend off of you as you scrambled to your feet and practically flung yourself to the oven, throwing open the heavy door. At that point, the cookies were completely ruined and unsalvageable.
In your frenzy, you quite foolishly forgot to put on an oven mitt, and reached forward to grasp a baking sheet. Letting out a yelp, you let the hot baking sheet clatter to the floor, sending burnt cookies everywhere.
As usual, Scott was by your side again, questioning to see if you were alright. "Of course I'm not alright!" You exclaimed, trying not to burst into pained tears, "I burned my hand!"
"Here, give me your hand." He gingerly took your injured hand in his own, focusing all his attention on your reddened palm. Almost instantaneously, the pain began to subside until there was barely a red mark at all.
You looked up at Scott with a grateful smile. "Thank you," you breathed.
He lifted your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss to your knuckles. "No problem."
"I have no idea why I'm being so clumsy today, I usually never mess up things when I'm baking."
"Don't worry," he assured you, "it happens to everyone."
"Yeah, well not everyone has their insanely adorable, yet obnoxious, boyfriend distracting them like every five seconds," you retorted.
"Hey, I can't help it."
"Yeah, well I suggest you try to help it. I can't afford to burn anymore cookies. Now come on, McCall, let's finish this up with no more makeout breaks. Deal?"
He laughed. "Deal. Though I can't promise I'll stay true to the deal."
You placed your hands on your hips. "Oh, you'd better stay true to it, otherwise I'll force you to sleep out on the porch."
He only shook his head. "My mom will just let me in."
"Nope, I'll tell her why you're on the porch and she'll totally back me up, she will make sure you stay out there. So stop trying to distract me."
He snuck a chaste kiss from you, and then stepped away. "Alright, alright. I won't distract you. Now let's finish what we started."
After that, there were no more flour spills, ten minute makeout sessions, or burning of gingerbread men. An hour later, the two of you stood in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by cooling cookies and covered in flour still.
"Well, I guess things turned out well," said Scott.
You leaned up to peck his cheek. "Yeah, almost no thanks to you for causing me to burn like three dozen," you responded.
"It was worth it though."
"Yeah, I guess so. And one really good thing came out of it."
"Oh?"
"You don't have to sleep on the porch."