Risky Woohoo

13 | Win

1957, July
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"Paul. Paul, wake up."

"Paulie, seriously, wake up."

"Don't... harder, you git. It hurts!"

Paul woke up in an instant, shaking his head and frowning at the darkness of the room. He groaned, irritated having just been woken up in the middle of the night. "What, Ann? What hurts?"

"Y-you..." I began, not really wanting to tell him the matter, and rather just let him keep doing what he was doing.

"What?" he groaned again, rubbing his eyes. I swallowed hard. "Y-your hand..."

"What about my hand?" he said tiredly. Then he realised where that hand was. His gaze turned to his arm, following the limb which crawled beneath my t-shirt and where his fingers had been (and still were, only a little shyer) toying with my, well, nipple.

He quickly retracted his arm and clambered out of bed, stumbling out the door and walking towards the loo. I lied silently waiting for him to get back, but he was gone so long I could hardly keep my eyes open. At last he came tiredly through the door but, to my dissatisfaction, went to his own bed.
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I suddenly woke up, squinting my eyes, prepared to face the morning sun peering through the curtains. But when I opened them I saw the sun had only just barely began to rise. I rubbed my eyes in confusion, I didn't normally just wake up randomly like that. I looked around the room and saw what may have caused me to wake up.

Paul was laying on his stomach on floor, hands above his head scratching at the floorboards. A low groan erupted from his mouth as he lifted his head, rubbing it as if it was hurt. He looked up and noticed I was awake. "Oh, hullo." He muttered, slowly shifting into a sitting position.

"Did you fall out of bed?" I asked, sitting up straight against the wall. He shrugged. "No, just thought I'd sleep on the floor for the rest of the-" he peered out the window, "-morning." He smiled. "Yeah, morning." I sighed.

By then we were both awake. What happened only a few hours ago kept circling through my mind, and by the awkwardness between us I could tell neither him nor I would like to start that conversation, although we'd like to have it.

We sat in silence for a while, watching the pools of light slowly fill the room. We didn't look at each other, and I heard Paul sighing as if to say something, but no words ever came.

When I felt the room had grown too silent, I decided to speak. "Paul?" He turned his head my way. "What were you doing before?"

"Well, I fell out of bed. I don't if it was that dream, or..." He replied with a light chuckle.

I shook my head. "No. Before, Paul." I looked him dead in the eye, but he put his gaze somewhere else. "Sorry." He simply said.

"You shouldn't be sorry." I blurted out something I did not intend to say. I widened my eyes, hiding my head between my legs.

"Why?" Suddenly Paul slumped himself beside me. I didn't answer. "Y'know, I didn't mean to. I was just having this dream, and..." he stopped abruptly, as if he was about to say something he shouldn't.

I raised my head, resting it on the side on my knees. I looked at him, my face still bloody red. I smiled slightly when I saw he was blushing equally profusely. "Because-" I shyly started. "-it was..." Paul turned his head my way, and suddenly our eyes locked.
"Good."

Paul raised his eyebrows, his lips forming a smirk. "Was it really, now?" He snickered. I rolled my eyes, but was relieved the tension was clearing. "Yeah, it felt a little like this." I said, jerking my pointer into the side of his chest, probably missing the nipple. "Ow!" Paul shrieked. "That wasn't even..!"

He didn't finish, instead he grabbed me by my shoulders, laying me on my back and began tickling my sides. I almost screamed right then and there, but thought I'd rather want the others unknowing. I was pressing my lips together in an attempt to silence my laughter, but it only resulted in me spitting through my teeth and giggling profusely.

"Does this feel good then, eh?" He asked almost threateningly. "N-no." I managed to get out. "Then why are you laughing?" He kept tickling, moving his hands to my stomach. "I can't help it!" I shrieked, jerking and squirming around in his grasp.

Suddenly he stopped moving his fingers, and his grasp was now on my waist. I let out a few final short laughs, just letting it out. Paul looked down on me intently. I was still smiling. "I look so ugly in the morning." I commented unexpectedly. Paul took it no surprise, though. He moved his gaze to my hair, ruffled and sprawled around. And the slight bags under my eyes, pink and puffy. "No, you don't." He shook his head.

I raised my arms up and around his neck, dragging him down and rolling us over so that we lay facing each other. "Neither do you." Paul smiled, slightly tightening his grip on my waist. And then suddenly he leaned forward and shyly pressed his lips to mine. He pulled back after only a few seconds.

The look on his face was the same as before, his smile didn't alter. He just seemed to gleam a whole lot more. In my case, I was lying fairly bamboozled, staring into my "step-brother"'s eyes. I was blushing, I knew that. And I realised I had actually wanted this. And I realised he couldn't actually be my step-brother anymore, so I quickly figured there wasn't any harm in it. I giggled happily and kissed him back.
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Cheeky