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Word count: 4 130
„But it's supposed to be spring," you whined, holding the phone closer to your ear so you could hear your friend Pete's voice over the heavy rain that was drumming against the window.
"You know how April is, one second rain, the next sunshine, and the next snowstorm," he seemed a lot calmer about the weather going all haywire than you.
"Great and what do you plan on wearing to the park when you have to be afraid the storm will blow you away any second? An anchor?"
Pete giggled at the thought and shook his head which you heard by his hair rustling against the microphone of his mobile.
"How about we watch movies instead of going to the park," he suggested.
It was your weekly Saturday evening ritual to meet up and for this week you had planned a trip to the park to watch the stars, or the nightlife, whatever was available. Yet the weather had prevented your plans. At least it had started raining before you had gone outside, not when you were in the middle of the park, several minutes away from your car. And a few minutes in this rain would doubtlessly be enough to wet you to the bones.
"Sounds good," you sighed, calming down a little.
You had almost expected that Pete would cancel your meeting. Over the last time you had gotten the feeling that Pete did not care about you as much anymore as he used to. Or maybe it was just because you started caring more. It felt like a cliché romance but over the last several months you caught yourself staring at your friend more and more often, sometimes even starting to fantasize about what it would be like to be with him. Pete of course knew nothing of these thoughts and feelings that you started to develop, and you preferred to keep it that way. You did not want to destroy your friendship with him and you did not want to land on his mental list of girls he had had either. Although at the moment he seemed to have taken a break from expanding that list.
"So I'm gonna be over in half an hour with movies? Do you still have snacks, or should I bring some?"
You stepped away from the window and over to the cupboard in which you kept your chips and sweets.
"I think we're good," you told him.
"Great, see you soon!" And with that he hung up.
You sighed quietly and took a look around your living room. Luckily it was cleaned up; otherwise you would have broken into a panic right now. You really needed to sort your feelings for Pete out. He was your friend. Nothing more. A platonic friend. Who was not interested in any kind of romantic relationship with you. This did not stop you from putting on your favorite perfume though.
When the doorbell rang sometime later, you quickly checked your appearance in the hallway mirror and opened the door for Pete. He had a backpack flung over his right shoulder, the hood of his raincoat was pulled over his head, but a few strands of his dark hair had gotten wet anyway. You quickly pulled him inside and he peeled of the wet material of his coat and let it drop to the floor before he hugged you. He smelled less of deodorant than usual and more of himself. Which was your favorite scent.
"Aw, I've missed you," he giggled and pulled away, making you laugh awkwardly.
"Missed you too," you told him, softly boxing him in the shoulder.
You led him to the living room where he sat down on the sofa immediately.
"So I brought Drive, Step Brothers and the Goonies," he told you, pulling a bunch of DVDs out of his backpack.
You rolled your eyes at his choice of films but agreed.
"With what do you want to start?"
You had made your way to the kitchen to get a bowl for the chips and a smaller one for gummy bears.
"How about Drive," Pete suggested from the living room.
"Sounds fine with me," you agreed, ripping a bag of chips open.
When you returned to the living room, balancing the bowls with the food, a bottle of lemonade and two glasses, Pete had already put in the DVD, the opening screen being displayed on the tv. When he saw you struggling with the items on your arm, he quickly jumped up and took the bowls to place them on the table. You smiled at him thankfully and sat down next to him, making sure to keep a safe distance between you.
When the movie was over, Pete suggested to watch Step Brothers and to order pizza. You loved his idea and you were halfway finished with the movie when the doorbell rang to announce the arrival of your pizza. A wet and unhappy looking delivery boy stood in front of your door and you decided to give him a good tip to make his night at least a little better. Towards the end of the movie you started to feel sleepy, yet Pete insisted on making milkshakes in honor of the milkshake that died in the opening scene of the Goonies, when Chunk smashed it against the window. You really loved the Goonies so Pete did his best to hype you up for the movie, although it was around midnight already.
Together you started mixing milkshakes. Since your ice cream variety was only consisting of chocolate, vanilla and salted caramel, you decided to share the three glasses. You pocked straws into each of the filled glasses and carried two of them to the living room, Pete following you with the last one, after switching of the light in the kitchen. When he sat down, he sat close to you, so close in fact that you considered moving away so you would not give a false impression. But then again it had been him, who had sat down so close.
"And there goes the milkshake," he commented, as Chunk, one of the characters in the movie smashed his cup with the beverage against a window, watching a police chase.
"It is disgusting, kinda," you mumbled, shaking your head with an amused smile.
When Mikey, one of the child characters appeared on the screen, you giggled, remembering how young Sean Astin had been back then. It had been a pleasant surprise to see him on the screen, and you could not help comparing his acting back then to the acting in The Lord of the Rings, in which he played the Hobbit Sam.
The movie progressed and you could feel Pete moving closer to you, an inch at a time. It made you nervous and more than once your eyes flickered over to Pete, wondering what he was up to, but he did not seem to notice. His gaze was fixed on the tv, mumbling along to some of the lines.
Then came the scene you had always hated. The boy Chunk, who had smashed his milkshake earlier, climbed into one of those refrigerated storage rooms, because he had spotted his favorite ice cream. Of course it was not just a normal storage room, it was one in an abandoned restaurant on top of a cliff and he would be about to discover a dead body. You hated that part of the movie as much as you loved the rest of it. You hated how the boy would start to panic, how the body would fall on him and how when he escaped the storage room the body would fall out too. So, as you always wanted to while watching the movie, you grabbed the remote and skipped the next minute.
"What was that for," Pete wondered and took the remote out of your hand.
"I hate this scene," you whined as he skipped back the minute.
"It's part of the movie," he argued, but you quickly grabbed the remote again and skipped forward again.
"I don't want to see that part though," you told him and tried to hold the remote out of reach for him, without any luck.
He skipped back and shook his head. "This part is really important you know."
"And we both know what happens, so please," you took the remote from him and skipped forward.
"Why do you hate it so much?"
He skipped back a minute.
"Because it's disgusting," again a minute skip forward, "and I hate how Chunk is so scared and I hate this dead man, and just imagine being buried under a corpse that's so... ugh!"
"It's not that bad," Pete tried to convince you, leaning over to steal back the remote, but you leant away from him, almost laying over the armrest of the sofa, holding the remote as far away from him as possible.
"It is!"
"No it's not! Don't be a baby about it!"
"I just don't want to see it," you kept insisting.
"It's just a scene in a movie!"
Pete had crawled on top of you, desperately trying to reach for the remote, but you were too concerned about the scene to notice.
"A scene I don't want to see!"
"Oh come on!"
"No, just this one time let's skip it!"
"You can't just skip scenes!"
"Watch me!"
Suddenly his chocolate brown eyes looked down on your face. He was right on top of you, kneeling between your knees, one hand supporting his weight next to your head, the other stretched out for the remote. All of a sudden you realized just how close he was to you, how close your faces were. You stared at him wide eyed. If you just leant up a bit, you would be kissing. But you were friends, you were just play fighting, no kissing involved.
Just in that moment his eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You knew you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, wide eyes, mouth slightly parted. And then he crashed his lips into yours. Your breath caught in in your throat as he pressed himself closer to you and you mindlessly dropped the remote, wrapping your fingers in his hair. He kisses you eagerly, his lips hot and soft, slightly salty from the chips he had been eating. His hair was silky yet slightly ridged around your fingers. The noise of the movie in the background was drained out by the blood rushing in your ears. You felt Pete's body pressing down on you, his hands traveling up your sides, wrapping into your shirt, holding you as if he was afraid you were going to run away. But you sure as hell were not planning to. You disentangled one of your hands from his hair and ran it down his spine, grabbing his shirt tightly, making sure it was actually him who was kissing you, that he was actually there. Pete slightly bit your lip, making you flinch a little at the minor pain he had inflicted. He continued kissing you deeper, a quiet moan escaping his lips and you felt like you could not breathe. Your mind still tried to wrap around what was happening, but it felt like a broken vinyl, always skipping back and forth, never continuing to work properly. A shudder ran down your spine and just when you thought you were going to faint, from lack of air or excitement, or both, Pete pulled away. Your eyes snapped open, studying his face in the dim light of the TV. His lips were slightly swollen and a deep red. His cheeks were dusted red over as well and his eyes screwed shut, before he slowly opened them. You watched him study your face, feeling both of you breathe heavily after the heated kiss. His eyes flickered over your eyes, your cheeks, your lips, back up to your eyes, searching something but not finding it. He leant back down, his lips just a millimeter away from yours and you knew he was watching you as you closed your eyes and leant in. You could feel him smile before he pecked your lips and pulled back away. When you looked at his face, it was lit up with a bright smile.
Suddenly he sat up, so he was sitting on his knees. Confused you sat up as well, wondering what was going through his mind right now. His eyes wandered over your body that was only illuminated by the flickering light of the movie, then he looked back into your face.
"Let's take this to the bedroom," he suggested and stood up, taking your hand and pulling you up as well.
"Pete..."
Yes, you loved Pete. You wanted nothing but kiss him all day long, wrap your fingers into his beautiful, dark hair and run your fingers over his body. But did you want to have sex with him? You were not the kind of person who kissed someone for the first time and slept with them the same day. You wanted, needed, to take things slow, to start with making out, getting to know the other person, the other person's body. You loved to explore the tiny spots that made them shiver with excitement, to find out how the person moved, how their breathing sounded and you loved to know every freckle and liver spot and every scar and tattoo like they were your own before you slept with someone. Sure, this took time, but it was always worth it, knowing that it was not just sex, it was something that connected the two of you on a whole different level. You knew how Pete was with woman. He had told you often enough about how he had met a nice girl, they had kissed, made out, had sex and that was it. All in one evening. To be honest, you had no idea when Pete had been with a girl for more than two days the last time. You did not want it to be like that. And even though you were in love with Pete, and he was the perfect man in your eyes, even though you knew he was far from being perfect, you felt uncomfortable at the thought of sleeping with him without knowing all these little things about him, about his body. And what would be the use of sleeping with the person you loved, if it made you feel uncomfortable? Not to mention that he would notice it as well, making him feel probably even worse than you.
"I don't think I..." You hesitated to say it out loud. Pete's eyes wandered over your face in confusion for a few seconds before the corners of his mouth twitched upwards and the skin around his eyes wrinkled joyfully.
"Not to sleep with you, silly," he told you with a giggle. "I want to go somewhere comfortable, where we can kiss until we fall asleep so the first thing I wake up in the morning is your face." He leant forward and kissed the tip of your nose, making you smile shyly and blush a little.
He gently held your hand in his as he guided you to your bedroom. The light of a street lantern shone in through the window, making an additional source of light unnecessary. He led you to the bed and fell down on it, pulling you down with him so you were laying on top.
You scanned his face, realization slowly settling in, spreading a feeling of warmth through your whole body. Pete's eyes were fixed on your face as well and he pushed a strand of hair out of your face.
"Whoa, your heart is racing," he whispered with wide eyes. You rolled of him and hid your face in your hands so he could not see the growing blush on your cheeks.
You felt him crawl up to you and carefully pull away your hands. He turned your head so he could look at you properly, the softest of smiles tucking at his lips.
"Do you know why I don't want to sleep with you right now," he asked, his voice low and full of love.
You stared at him, unable to look away from him. Slowly you shook your head.
"Because I want to get to know you, I want to find out what you like, where you love to be kissed, how you love to be kissed, and I want to do that slowly so I don't miss a single thing. Because you are so perfect and special and you mean so much to me and I don't think you ever really realize how special you are and how much you mean to me and how much I owe you, damn, how much the band owes you, you know? And I want this to be slow, and real, and I want you to feel perfectly comfortable along every step of the way."
You were at a loss for words at that, so you just continued staring at him, hoping he would understand that you were just so happy right now.
"That is, if you want all that," he added, the smile fading from his lips slightly.
"That is exactly what I want," you confessed, and there it was again, this soft smile only Pete could smile.
His eyes flickered back to your lips and you leant in, waiting for his lips to meet yours again. It was just as overwhelming as the first time, and you could not help but sigh quietly into the kiss. Pete carefully rearranged the way both of you were laying so it would be the most comfortable, never breaking the kiss, slowly running his hands up and down your sides, wrapping his fingers into the fabric of your shirt every now and then. Slowly the excitement died down, and was replaced with the feeling of safety, love and tiredness. No matter how hard your heart had beaten earlier, now you could feel the exhaustion washing over you, but it was washing over Pete as well. The kisses got shorter, less coordinated. You were not sure if you were awake or sleeping, dreaming, but Pete was still kissing you, his lips gently moving against yours and they were the last thing you perceived when everything around you got blurry and sunk into the delicate covers of sleep.
You woke up to the sound of rain hitting against a window. Dim light of an early morning sun, that tried to work its way through a thick blanket of clouds, lit up the room. You wanted to turn around, burry your head in the pillow and find an explanation for the weirdly ecstatic feeling that pulsated through your body, but you were held in place. You opened your eyes again, realizing that, what you had thought to be part of your blanket actually was Pete's face. Suddenly all the memories from the night before flooded into your mind. The rain, the movie evening, the milkshakes, the scene you wanted to skip, the kiss. Pete's face was right in front of yours and you remembered having fallen asleep to his soft lips caressing yours lovingly. You felt the blush creep into your face and your heart leap to your throat. How was it possible that you were so lucky to be waking up to the face of the man you loved? You carefully scanned his expression. His eyes were closed, his long, dark lashes rested against his cheeks. Slight stubble grew on his cheeks and chin and you wondered how you had not noticed it yesterday while kissing. His lips were of a light pink, looking so full and soft that you could not resist the temptation, at least not after what he had told you last night, and leant forwards, gently brushing your lips over his. They were soft and warm, slightly chapped and fit perfectly against yours. You smiled and pulled back, taking in Pete's sleeping form again. One of his arms was wrapped around you, holding you tight even while he was asleep. His hair was disheveled, and his features completely relaxed, only the corners of his lips were slightly pulled upwards. You rearranged yourself so you could nuzzle your head under the crook of his chin and closed your eyes again.
The next time you woke up, it was still heavily raining outside. You felt Pete run his fingers over your back so you opened your eyes and sleepily tilted your head to look at him. A warm smile was drawn over his face and his eyes lovingly blinked down on you. You smiled when you saw him and blinked back a few times.
"Good morning," Pete whispered, his voice raspy and deep.
"Good morning," you answered.
"Did you sleep well?"
You hummed contently and nuzzled your cheek against his chest. "And you?"
"I haven't slept better in a long time," he admitted.
For a while you lay in bed, listening to the rain and each other's breathing. You were not sure when he had started, but Pete was peppering tiny kisses all over your head, down your temples over your cheeks to your mouth, kissing you softly and warm, making your head spin and wishing this moment would last forever.
You had lost all sense of time, but it did not matter, it was Sunday. There was nowhere you had to be today, apart from here, in your apartment together with Pete.
None of you were talking; too busy were your mouths with kissing each other, once soft and calm, then full of lust and urgency. Pete placed small, lingering kisses all over your blushing face and you pressed your heated lips against his rough knuckles. Sometimes it would make Pete chuckle and you blushed even harder, and sometimes you would look up at his face and see the blush on his cheeks just as strong as on yours. It made your heart beat faster, still struggling to understand that all this was real.
When your stomachs started to complain about the lack of food, you stood up. Pete tickling and chasing you to the living room, where he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back into him. He turned you around, pressing his lips to yours, guiding you to the kitchen blindly. He gave you his sweatshirt that had hung over the back of the sofa when he noticed how the tiny hairs on your arm stood up because you were cold. His sweater was too big for you, but it was soft and warm and you pulled the sleeves over your hands to keep warm.
While the sound of rain against the glass of the window, the boiling of fat in the pan and the puffing of the coffee machine mixed together to the soundtrack of your 'morning', Pete cleaned up the leftovers in the living room from the night. You had been too busy with being in love with each other, to switch of the TV or put the glasses and bowls away. When you turned the bacon in the pan, Pete's hands snuck around your waist and he pressed his front against your back. He rested his chin on your shoulder and hummed quietly into your ear.
Breakfast was spent in silence, only the rain and the quiet blaring of the radio painting a peaceful carpet of sound under the quiet munching on pancakes, bacon and eggs. Sometimes Pete reached for your hand and grazed his fingertips over the back of your hand or holding it for a moment. While you slowly started to accept for yourself that this was in fact happening, you realized that for Pete it was at least as unbelievable. Constantly he checked on you, making sure you were still there, touching you in the smallest of ways, or just staring at you with so much love. You knew how he felt though; sometimes you just felt the need to touch him, to make sure he really was there, right in front of you.
After you had finished eating, Pete pulled you over to the sofa, covering both of you with a blanket you had laying around. Your bodies were pressed close together; Pete was laying on his back, you on top of him with his hands folded over the small of your back. Sometimes you were talking, sometimes you were kissing and sometimes you were staring at each other until one of you started giggling. Pete insisted on finishing the Goonies, allowing you even to skip the scene you hated so much. He had his arm tightly wrapped around you, holding you close. You listened more to the pattern of his breathing than to the sounds of the movie and you were too distracted to pay attention to anything else when he was kissing your neck with heated, soft lips. And once the movie was over you were back to kissing and laughing and talking and tickling and cheering and staring and giggling and outside the rain stopped when the day turned to night.