Baby, It's Cold Outside

by The Grrrl

Title: Baby, It's Cold Outside

Author: The Grrrl

Author's email: thegrrrl2002@gmail.com

Author's URL: http://www.oocities.org/thegrrrl2002/

Archive: Ask first.

Pairing: Donald/Timmy

Fandom: The Strachey Mysteries

Summary: Written for the nick_n_nora Picture This Challenge.

When Timmy comes to bed Donald is already tucked under the covers, blankets pulled up so far that all Timmy can make out is a tuft of fluffy blond hair against a pillow. But the bedside lamp is still on, so Timmy whispers, "Are you awake, honey?"

"I might be." Donald voice is low and indistinct.

Timmy grins as he sheds his bathrobe and hangs it on the back of the bedroom door. "Might be?"

"If it's worth my while."

"I promise you, it is." Timmy takes a detour to bed, though, stopping to peer through the blinds at the snow-covered street below. He loves the way his city looks right now, covered with a clean white blanket of snow. It's pretty and picturesque and almost pristine. "I think we got at least a foot, don't you think? And it's still coming down. Isn't that great?"

"No."

"What? Donald." Timmy shakes his head, aghast. "Have you looked out the window? Come here and look." He waits by the window, arms akimbo.

Donald pokes his head out from under the blankets. "I already know what it looks like. Winter."

"It's beautiful," Timmy insists.

"Why are you standing there with no clothes on when you could be under the covers keeping me warm?"

"Are you cold?" Timmy holds the palm of his hand up along the windowsill. "Huh. There is a bit of a draft by the window here."

"A little bit? Timmy, the house leaks like a sieve."

"Donald, you're exaggerating."

A heavy sigh. "Come to bed, honey. I'm freezing."

Timmy takes one last look out at the street, at the drifts piling up on the sidewalks. "Maybe there will be two feet by morning. We'll spend the day tomorrow drinking hot toddies by the fire. I picked up all the ingredients on the way home today."

Donald groans. "You really love this, don't you?"

"What's there not to love?" Timmy is still smiling at the thought of a lazy day at home as he slides into bed carefully, trying not to sweep cold air under the covers--he's a considerate husband, after all. It's delightfully warm and cozy under the blankets and that's one of the best things about winter. Cuddling. He leans in and kisses Donald's nose, then has to nuzzle down under the blankets to find Donald's mouth. Another kiss, lingering this time on soft lips and Donald makes that cute little hum of contentment that Timmy will never, ever tire of.

"Come here, you," Timmy says, reaching down to wrap his arms around Donald.

And stops abruptly.

"Donald." Timmy sits up and whips the bedcovers away.

Flannel pajamas, a bulky woolen sweater, and a bathrobe. "I was cold." Donald glares, large blue eyes indignant, as if was all somehow Timmy's fault.

"You know I merely see this as a challenge."

"If we were in the Bahamas right now? I'd be naked."

"Well, we're not in the Bahamas, we're here in lovely snow-swept Albany." Timmy unties the bathrobe. The heavy fleece bathrobe. Donald can be truly ridiculous at times. "Off with it."

"Everything?" Donald sits up enough to slide one arm free.

"Yes, come on, everything." Donald is taking way too long, so Timmy pushes him onto his back, grabs fistfuls flannel and tugs the pajama bottoms off.

To reveal a pair of sleek polypropylene thermal underwear. "Honestly Donald, it's not that cold out. Or in."

"These have a open fly," Donald says hopefully. He slides his hand under the front layer of fabric at his groin. "See?"

"I am not having sex with you through a hole in your thermal underwear."

Donald is clearly disappointed and Timmy almost relents. He can never resist that look on Donald's face, but still-- "No," he says firmly. "We're going to have sex naked, like civilized people do."

"If you ask me, civilized people live in places with civilized--mmmph".

Timmy shuts Donald up with a kiss. He keeps on kissing as Donald shimmies his way out of the thermal bottoms, slides free of the bathrobe and when he pulls the sweater off over his head Timmy switches to Donald's neck, nibbling and kissing and sucking, which encourages Donald to undress ever faster. Finally, Donald is naked beneath him, naked and shivering, his nipples hardening to little points and Timmy takes pity and stretches out over him, covering every inch of Donald with his body, their cocks sliding together happily.

"Warm now?" Timmy asks with a grin.

Donald looks thoughtful. "Can you pull the covers back up?"

Timmy rolls his eyes and slides off, reaching for the covers but then Donald flips him over, rolling on top of him, laughing and soon they are generating enough heat to melt all the snow in Albany.

Picture which inspired this fic:

The Strachey Mystery Series is the property of the author, Richard Stevenson. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred. This is a nonprofit fan site.

The Grrrl's site is maintained by The Grrrl