LKH-AB: In Love With Today Title: In Love With Today Fandom: LKH: AB Spoilers: Up to Cerulean Sins Disclaimers: Characters and world belong to LKH; the story is mine. Don't repost or "borrow" or anything. It was hastily edited, so if you notice ooopses, please let me know. Present tense isn't my forte, so I'm sure I screwed up somewhere. Notes: It's set in "my" Forresterverse. (In which "my" means only "the fics I wrote previously": I'm not trying to lay claims or anything.) The title comes from "Da Hype" by Junior Jack feat. Robert Smith Inspiration: Plot? I have ice cubes! For ref, in honour of a certain conversation.
"Cheque, please." Becca gently places her hand over her glass when the waitress goes to clear the table. "Leave the glasses for now, please. I like the ice cubes." She puffs out her belly a bit and smiles sheepishly. "Pregnancy craving."
The waitress nods and smiles, says that Becca's not even showing. The three at the table know that Becca's not pregnant, but while they're in Chicago, she and Peter are pretending to be a young couple in order to infiltrate a branch of the Church of Eternal Life and the impending baby is part of their cover. It also gives her a handy way to explain away her quirk so they aren't too memorable to the waitress.
Becca plucks the last ice cube from her glass and pops it in her mouth. Crunchcrunchcrunch. When she reaches across the table to pilfer Edward's ice cubes, her shirt pulls away from her jeans, exposing her abdomen and the thin scar that winds like a river over her lower ribs, plunges down her belly, and cradles her hip—Damian's last attack with his precious Viking sword, before Edward relieved him of his arm. "Thanks, Dad," Becca beams, the edges of ice cubes pushing at her cheeks.
Crunchcrunchcrunch.
Peter protectively pulls his glass to his chest, coveting his stash. He's not a cruncher, though: he leaves the cubes melt on his tongue until they're flat, like square checkers. Then he runs them along his teeth, reveling in the sound that echoes through his jaw. He intercepts the bill before Edward or Becca can see it. "I'll cover it tonight."
They all rise—not in sync, but no less practiced. Edward always stands first, then goes to help Becca, which gives him the excuse to change position and scope out other areas of the restaurant. Under the guise of the pregnancy, Becca endures his chivalry and examines his blind spots; Peter completes the trifecta, walking just behind her while Edward trails behind, off to the side. They look like nesting dolls; Becca can disappear in either of them, but only Edward can shield Peter effectively.
The last of Peter's ice cubes rumbles around his teeth, the meltwater pooling under his tongue. He swallows and smiles at Edward. "I gave you my credit card, didn't I?"
"Right. Your pants didn't have pockets, you said." Edward knows this for a fact. He bought those pants specifically so he didn't have lines and folds obstructing his view. "Picking up her bad habits?" he asks, forcing himself not to lick away the water on Peter's lips.
With Becca in front of them as a shield, chatting to the hostess, Peter presses lightly against his lover. His hand skims Edward's fly en route to his pocket, and he takes his time pulling the wallet out. Pinching the wallet between two fingers, he chances a quick squeeze as he steps back. His hair tickles Edward's jaw as he leans in. "It helps keep my teeth sharp."