maybe 66 for the drabble thing
66 Stay over
Gaby’s skin is soft, her embraces even softer, and it’s hard to get up from under the covers, from her warmth. The floor is cold under his feet when he reaches to grab his underwear.
“Stay over,” Gaby asks softly.
“I can’t,” Illya says. “No sleeping over. Your rule.”
Gaby hums. “Stay,” she asks again. “Let’s forget about that rule.”
Illya lets the fabric fell back on the floor but stays on the edge of the bed. “If you are going to forget about that rule are you going to forget all the others too?” He twist his head to see her over his shoulder.
Gaby crawls up, the rumpled sheet under her knees, pressing herself against Illya’s back. Her arms wrap around him; one around his shoulder, the other under his arm, smoothing it’s way across his abdomen. She buries her face on his neck, inhales his scent, bites his earlobe gently. She squeezes Illya closer, purring like a happy cat.
“Yes. Let’s forget all the rules,” she promises, muttering the words against his skin, lips pressing warm kisses on him. “Stay,” she purrs.
“Those are your rules,” Illya reminds, letting her pull him back to the bed, eager to explore the opportunity to stay a bit longer with her. “Tomorrow you are going to reinstate those.” He can barely get the words out from between her kisses.
“Then enjoy this while it lasts,” Gaby mutters, pulling him under the covers with her, back to her warmth, under her deep kisses and caresses, enjoying when there is no rules. At least tonight.