Work Text:
take a hint (and my lips)
♦
It all starts with Christopher’s very favourite dessert.
He’s at his desk in the workshop, frantically scribbling down notes for his latest apothecary experiment. So focused on his work, he doesn’t register footsteps behind him, doesn’t notice the presence of another person, until a gentle hand touches his shoulder.
“Ah!” He startles, almost dropping his steel pen. He turns and looks at the newcomer, and is met by soft, green eyes and lips curved into a hesitant smile. As soon as he realises where he’s looking, he averts his eyes, and makes up for the silence by nodding to the plate Sally is carrying.
“What do you have there?” He asks, carefully keeping his eyes away from her face.
Sally looks almost embarrassed, and ducks her head down. A lock of auburn hair escapes from behind her ear and falls in front of her eyes. Christopher valiantly does his best not to stare.
“A slice of apple pie,” she says. “I remember you said you liked them, so I thought I’d give it a go. Tom helped me with it,” she admitted. “I couldn’t quite get it right, but I tried?” Her voice turns up at the end, as if in question.
Oh, Lord. Christopher is definitely not blushing, and he certainly doesn’t find Sally’s gift to be extremely endearing. Well, perhaps in a friend way. But obviously nothing more.
“Thank you,” he finally says, almost speechless. “You’re absolutely wonderful.” When Sally blinks at him, he hastily blurts out, “Uh, I mean, at baking. This looks fantastic.” Now she turns her head slightly, in what he thinks might be disappointment. He mentally slaps himself, and quickly backtracks.
“Not,” he says slowly, “That I don’t think you’re not wonderful. Because you are. Wonderful,” he tacks on.
Inside, he’s dying of shame. How is it that every time, Sally manages to make him turn into a blithering idiot?
Thankfully, Sally breaks the tension with a small laugh. She leans over and lays the plate carefully on his desk, setting it a safe distance away from his papers.
“Here.” She pulls a fork out of a handkerchief, and passes it to him, handle first. “Eat up.”
And suddenly, Christopher is aware of how close they both are, barely an inch apart. From here, he can see every detail of Sally’s face. The light brown freckles speckled across her cheeks. The pale scar on her nose. Dark brown eyelashes framing wide, brilliant-green eyes. Eyes that are fixed on his own.
BANG!
A hard thunk on the window springs the two of them apart, Christopher’s back slamming painfully on the back of his chair. He hisses at the sudden pain, and then angrily looks at the window.
A bird is wobbling on the windowsill, having apparently crashed against the glass in a flurry of mistimed flight. It haphazardly stumbles for a few seconds, before lifting off in crooked flight.
Christopher drops his face in his hands. Why do these kinds of things always happen to him?
“Stupid bird,” he grumbles. His cheeks still feel hot, and his voice comes out slightly shaky. Damn it.
Sally is looking, with concern, at his back. “Yes, that looked like it hurt,” she says with sympathy.
Really, Christopher isn’t talking about his back at all, but rather the moment that the silly bird had ruined with its unwelcome entrance. But it’s not as if he’s going to actually say that, so he just swallows his disappointment and nods along.
“It’s not too bad,” he says honestly. Sally hums, relieved. A few moments pass, and, unable to bear the silence, turns his attention to the apple pie.
“Thank you, for this,” he says again. Sally smiles at him, and Christopher’s heart flutters.
“Of course,” she says. Clasping her hands behind her back, she rocks back on her heels. There’s no mistaking a faint redness in her cheeks, but Christopher explains that away as happiness at the compliment.
“Well,” he says.
“Well,” she repeats. They are silent for a moment, just looking at one another.
Sally steps away. “I’ll just leave you to your work, then.”
She turns to leave, and walks towards the door. Her hand is just brushing the doorknob when Christopher cries, “Wait!”
Sally turns her head back, bemused, but Christopher is already out of his chair. She patiently waits until he’s standing there in front of her.
“I…” he starts, but can’t find the words to finish.
He doesn’t need to.
It’s almost remarkable how in sync they seem to be as they close the minute distance between them. Unbearably slow, but at the same time, blindingly fast, they move as if gravitated towards each other. He can hear his heart thumping in his chest, breathes in slow, and closes his eyes.
A millisecond later, his lips are captured in a kiss. Time stops, his heart stops, and all he can focus on is the sensation of soft lips on his own. From somewhere outside his body, he feels himself move his hand to Sally’s waist, and an electric sensation runs through his body at the touch. He feels her let out a small gasp, and smiles despite himself.
It’s a revelation. It’s utter euphoria. And, unfortunately, it’s the human need to breathe.
They break apart after what feels like an eternity. Christopher inadvertently leans in after they separate, chasing her lips. Sally laughs, and nudges him away.
“So,” Sally says, and then laughs again.
Christopher almost feels hurt. “What, that wasn’t good?”
“No,” she says, turning her lips up at the corners. “It was good. Great, even. I just can’t believe you finally managed to get the hint.”
Dumbstruck, Christopher just gapes at her, mouth slightly agape. Sally rolls her eyes, but her gentle expression tells him it’s not to be unkind.
Now, Christopher isn't completely oblivious. He notices how much Tom idly mentions how close they seem to be, notices how much they seem to make eye contact. But nothing had ever happened. Until it did.
"I don’t make pie for just anyone,” Sally teases. “You’re so clueless.” She’s still smiling. Christopher feels the urge to kiss her again.
Noticing Christopher’s mouth is still slightly agape, she hums and says, “Close your mouth.”
“Make me,” he replies, completely and utterly unsure at what he's saying.
Sally’s eyes flicker down to his mouth, and travel back up to his face. Christopher carefully takes her hand. She moves closer. “Okay,” she whispers.
They close the distance again.