Skin I Want to Kiss
Part Two

by Kaytee
 

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  But ask them, they like me better.

Author’s Note:  This is set sometime in the spring, after A Winter’s Tale.  Meaning, they’ve done the deed already. 

Thank you: Big friggin thank you to my beta baby bijal, who puts up with so damn much.

Rating:  NC-17 (later on)

Distribution:  Ask me first.

Joey cupped her hand around the candle’s flickering flame as she slowly climbed the staircase.  The power had gone out during the middle of dinner, which caused a stressed-out Alexander to finally snap.  He’d been a good boy all day, having put up with all the guests invading his home for the weekend.  He hadn’t fussed when strange ladies with strong perfume cuddled and kissed on him.  He’d barely sniffled when his mother wasn’t able to play with him after breakfast.  He’d even shared his toys with the other children, and he’d only cried a little bit when an older boy had broken his Mr. Potato Head. 

Enough was, evidently, enough.  A fit had been thrown and macaroni had gone everywhere, specifically all over Pacey because he happened to be sitting closer.  They’d lit candles just in case the power did go out, but Alex was not satisfied and had howled and howled until he completely tired himself out.

While Joey cleaned up the mess, Pacey had gone upstairs with Alex to try and put him down for the night.  She’d finished with the kitchen and wondered what was taking him so long, and had decided to investigate.   She began to hear him halfway down the hall, and her heart was already melting by the time she got to his room.  The room was lit by a flashlight pointed at the ceiling, and in the faint light she could see that he’d changed into sweats and a wife-beater along with changing Alex into pajamas.  Joey watched quietly from the doorway as Pacey rubbed the baby’s back, as Alex’s thumb poked blindly for his mouth.

His voice was soft, completely off-key and soothingly gentle as he sang to the baby cradled against his chest.  It was obvious that Pacey was making up the lullaby as he went along, but Alex didn’t seem to mind.  He was busy fighting a losing battle against the evil clutches of sleep; his eyelids fluttered slowly closed against the deadly combination of gentle rocking, a simple song, and the warmth of Pacey.

The sight of him gently rocking the child to sleep, unabashedly singing his own song, immediately conjured up an image of what he’d be like in the years to come.  With their own baby falling asleep in his arms. 

He’d been turned in profile away from her as he swayed with the baby, and she quietly leaned against the doorjamb as his voice tapered off and he checked to make sure Alex was indeed asleep.  Her heart tugged in her chest and Joey knew that a sweeter sight might never be seen by her; Pacey kissed the top of the baby’s head and then eased him down in the crib.  He covered him up with the blankets and whispered goodnight before turning for the door, and it was only then that his eyes met hers.

“You’re going to make a good father,” she said with a smile, her voice barely more than a whisper. 

He turned the flashlight off, casting the room into darkness beyond the faint circle of illumination provided by her tapered candle.  He was already teasing her when he stepped into the light, pulling the door partially shut as they stepped back into the hall. 

Blue eyes dancing with a mixture of tenderness and mischief, he asked, “Do you have something to tell me, Jo?”

Joey rolled her eyes, and though he couldn’t see the pink dusting of embarrassment on her cheeks, he knew she was blushing.  “I’m just . . . saying, you know.  You’re good with kids.  Especially Alexander.”

Bringing a hand up to her face to smooth a stray lock of hair behind her ear, in all seriousness he told her, “I might as well get as much practice as I can handling temperamental half-Potter children.”

Struggling for words, Joey‘s eyes were wide and glittered with welling tears.  Her free hand circled his wrist and she had to try a few times to get a sentence out.  “Oh . . . you’re just so . . . perfect and - and wonderful and -”

“And this is a conversation we’ll finish in . . . say, five years,” he smiled, leaning in to kiss her forehead.  “Come on, Potter, let’s go downstairs and find ways to entertain ourselves in the dark.”

“You could always sing me to sleep,” Joey suggested with an innocent smile.  “The dark is sorta scary, you know.”

“Or you could sing to me.”

“How about no singing at all?” Joey amended as they carefully made their way down the staircase.

Pacey laughed as he followed her.  “That’s what I thought.”

“We could always read to each other, you know,” Joey said, heading for the living room.  “Or we could make one up, that sounds like fun.”

“Or I could go insane and spend the evening braiding your hair,” Pacey suggested with an exaxperated tone.  “Honey... we haven’t had more than ten minutes alone all week.  No singing.  No story.”

“What then?” Joey asked without turning to look at him, and she couldn’t help the waver of laughter in her tone.

She felt his arms wrap around her waist and draw her back against him, holding her close.  In her ear he breathed, “Lots and lots of . . . snuggling.”

“As long as that leads to lots and lots of sex.”

“Josephine Potter!  My God!”

Laughing, she freed herself and set the candle on the coffeetable.  “I’m sorry.  We can snuggle if that’s what you had your heart set on.”

Something that sounded a whole lot like a warning growl was heard and Joey’s smirk was evident, even in the faint light.  “Or not,” she amended.  “And you’re growling.”

Stepping closer to her, he lifted the hem of her shirt and raised it over her head.  “That’s because you’re annoying me.”

“I’d have thought that it would be impossible for any topless girl to annoy you.”

Pacey’s eyes caressed her bared skin, and he cupped her face with both hands.  His voice was soft and tender when he said, “You bug me, you do know that, right?  You drive me insane.”

“But you love me.”

“Yeah, Potter.”  Leaning his forehead against hers, he smiled as her hands slid beneath his shirt and splayed against his back.  “I love you.”

“Good to know,” she whispered, brushing his mouth with hers in nothing more than a hint of a kiss.  “Hey, Pace?”

“Hey, Potter?”

“Of all the places you could be touching me . . ."

***************

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