|Billie Harper =/= Ερις (unlikeable) wrote in paxletalelogs,|
@ 2011-12-21 08:43:00
|Entry tags:||eris, phobos|
Who: Rylee, Charlie, & Mrs. Ekholm
What: Mrs. Ekholm has a bone to pick with the kids.
Where: Rylee’s apartment
When: The morning of December 21
Warnings: Mainly embarrassment.
Rylee rolled to his side and wrapped an arm around Charlie’s waist, pulling her against his body. He hummed and buried his face into the curve of her neck and breathed in her scent. Despite having just woken up, he felt a sluggishness that always accompanied his body after having great sex. The night before had been great, but that was typical for time spent in the bedroom with Charlie. But now there was almost a desperation to their private time together; the silent countdown of how many times they could enjoy each other and how many nights they would be able to sleep side by side.
“I should get up and make breakfast for you and momma,” Rylee mumbled against Charlie’s throat. “But I dunno if I really wanna get out of this bed yet.” As if to emphasize his point, he gripped the blankets and pulled them over their heads. Charlie laughed, and scooted closer to Rylee, her leg sliding over his hip as her hands settled on his chest. Her mouth claimed his, relishing the closeness that would soon be taken from her. Her throat hummed, eyes sliding shut as though to imagine that they had all the time in the world.
“We don’t even know if she’s awake,” she agreed, content to keep him for as long as possible. “We might even have time for a quickie,” Charlie continued, letting her hand creep down to grasp his member, feeling it harden under her touch. She smirked, raising her mouth to his; just as their lips were about to meet, a sharp double knock on the door interrupted Charlie’s plans. Her eyes went wide as her head twisted under the blanket in the direction of the sound.
Rylee stared at Charlie and remained unmoving. He had that twisting feeling in his stomach that he got as a child when he knew he was in trouble. But, as he slipped his hand down to remove Charlie’s grasp on his member, he felt that this could potentially be more mortifying.
“You don’t think she heard us, do you?” Rylee whispered then listened to hear cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen. “Shit.” He sat up in bed, slipping his feet over the edge and scanning the floor for his discarded pajama bottoms. Charlie likewise scrambled for her clothes, pulling on an oversized shirt of Rylee’s along with a pair of his boxers. They rarely went to bed clothed, and she had few pajamas, so she often made use of Rylee’s things as though they were her own. But rather than heading straight out, she lingered on her side of the bed, waiting for Rylee. She glanced at the door, then to him, and then back again.
“Well she’s yer momma, yah get to go first!”
Rylee wrinkled his nose and looked at Charlie, his lip pushing out into a childlike pout. “Well, if I gotta go out, you gotta go with me.” Rylee reached for Charlie’s hand, grabbing it and holding it tightly so that she couldn’t escape, and opened his bedroom door.
They didn’t move. Remaining in the doorway for a few moments, listening to the banging of the pots and pants as Mrs. Ekholm moved around the kitchen, Rylee realized how close the spare room was to his and groaned. Squeezing Charlie’s hand, he dragged her down the hallway until they came to the kitchen entrance. “Morning, Momma,” Rylee greeted sheepishly. Charlie trailed at his heels, grasping his hand and peeking out from around his shoulder at the woman who was a miniature whirlwind in the kitchen. Mrs. Ekholm stopped for a minute to regard the young couple with a smile, before waving a hand.
“Rylee, if you would get the eggs, and Charlotte, set the table?” The requests were given with the tone of orders, though they did nothing to relieve the tension both were feeling. Charlie glanced at Rylee, who returned her look, then moved to complete the instructions she’d been given.
“Um, how’d yah sleep, Mrs. Ekholm?” Charlie glanced at Christina through her peripheral vision as she pulled three plates down from a cupboard.
Rylee remained quiet as he slipped to the fridge and retrieved the eggs. Then, just for good measure he took out the milk, butter, and some odds and ends that could be mixed into the egg batter. “Was the couch all right, Momma?” Rylee managed to ask, peaking at his mother and smiling sweetly.
Mrs. Ekholm turned and placed her hands on her hips, inspecting the products Rylee had produced. Her attention being caught, she glanced up at Rylee and smiled. “The futon is very comfortable, honey. It was a nice choice in furniture.” She reached up and patted Rylee on the cheek before returning to the fridge and withdrawing biscuits. “Could you set the oven for 350, please?”
Rylee nodded, giving a weary glance at Charlie before turning for the oven. His mother tapped the can of biscuits on the side of the counter and it gave its familiar pop. “You know, Momma, I was going to make breakfast for you. Charlie was going to help.”
Mrs. Ekholm sighed from the counter as she placed the separated biscuits onto a baking sheet. “Oh, that’s fine, but I wanted to make breakfast for my kids. Just like old times, hmm? Except Charlie isn’t sneaking through your window.” Her eyes flicked up to find Charlie’s and she smiled. The tiniest of smiles flickered over Charlie’s face in reply, and she put the plates on the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen. Next she dug into one of the drawers for cutlery, doing her best to make herself small and out of sight.
“Tomorrow then...we could, I dunno, maybe take yah out fer breakfast?” Her voice was hesitant, holding a tiny flame of hope that, just maybe, Mrs. Ekholm hadn’t heard anything and that they were going to get off scot-free. That hope was short-lived.
“That sounds nice,” Mrs. Ekholm replied as she began to crack eggs and drop them into a bowl. “Hopefully I’ll be more alert tomorrow morning.”
Rylee began to gather coffee cups and sat them on the counter for Charlie before going towards his coffee pot. “Why aren’t you alert today?” He asked the question before really thinking it through, the words leaving his mouth before he turned a panicked eye to Charlie. Hopefully she hadn’t heard anything... hopefully she had just-
“The walls aren’t made of concrete, sweetie,” Mrs. Ekholm replied, turning and putting a hand onto Rylee’s cheek, patting it gently before turning to look at Charlie. “If the both of you could keep your bedroom activities on mute, I would really appreciate it. Yes, I've wanted you two to date since time immemorial, but I didn't need to know about my son's stamina or that thing Charlotte can do with her hips!!!”
Rylee could feel the blood drain from his face as he stared over his mother’s head at Charlie. Her own face had paled considerably, suddenly finding intense interest in the silverware drawer, as though she had suddenly forgotten the use of forks and spoons, and through osmosis could rediscover such information. She moved herself around the bar, glancing up to find Rylee staring at her, and she gave a small shrug.
“Sorry, Mrs. Ekholm.”
“It’s fine, Charlotte,” Mrs. Ekholm replied, keeping her eyes on the eggs as she scrambled them and a very slight blush appearing on her cheeks. “Now you both know. Now go clean up for breakfast.” With her dismissal both Rylee and Charlie quickly retreated from the room.