Stoking Ember.

Now now, we both remember. Whilst you were mischievous at times, I do recall you savouring the moment. And so, I do recall, that as I opened up the front door, you heard, and had quickly hopped back into the main corridor. Your exploration done for now, and the night getting on.

And there you were, and there I was. You, dressed for the night, in your bare feet, shorts, and loosely hung t-shirt, with me much the same, except overloaded with firewood and kindling. Gazing at each other across the expanse of that passage. "Well, don't just stand there, come help me with this!" I loudly mutter, not liking the taste of dry leaf in my mouth, as I haul my load beside the hefty fireplace. "It's cold enough as it is. I do not like the idea of things staying cold... if you catch my meaning." I smirk.

A lazy smile crosses your lips, as you join me in the living room, walking past the leather couches as you kneel down beside the fireplace's interior. I roll back onto my heels, and lean up against the side of one of the leather couches, as you take to my load, sorting the wood and kindling, and adjusting the material into a proper arrangement inside the fireplace. Eyeing you, crouched and huddled over your work, I can't help but look.

The way your calves stood out, the exposure of your thigh, the shifting and bunching of the muscles in leg, ass and arm as you hauled and balanced a log on overextended fingertips. I smiled.. Sometimes... just seeing you like that.. was enough.

Brushing off loose scraps from your palms, you turn to me, eyes drawn southwards as I rest, before you haul them back up. "Hey.. Look around, there any newspapers or paper.. you know... something to get the fire going." you ask, as I roll my eyes at your knowing smile.
"Sure." I reply, as I go on my little scavenger hunt across the room. "Find anything good whilst I was gone?" I query, as I cross the span of the room again and again, with a growing amount of material clasped in hand.
"Oh yeah... you've got to see it. The bathroom in this place is completely out of place." you answer, putting your finishing touches on the fireplace, speaking loudly to make sure you could be heard whilst your head was buried in the fireplace.
"In a good way, or a bad way?" I inquire, my pace slowing as I draw to a stop in the middle of the room.
"Strange.. but I think it could be quite fun." You finish.

You knew you were tantalizing. Kneeled as you were, head and shoulders and arms in the fireplace, legs spread just enough for me to know what you were doing. That slight arch of the back. the way the toes dug into the fabric. That perk of your ass.... Heavens....

I stroll over, and reach down, slipping a firm finger down your waistband. A firm tug, the flash of skin for but a second, and you feel the backwards yank of fabric stretching before it pulls on your body, dragging you back just a little, before the snap of fabric shortening back into place.
"Hey!" You exclaim, body jolting, as you scramble out of the fireplace.
"You were done ages ago, come on." I tease, as I crouch down beside you, holding out the paper and matches.
There's a slight pause, and I see your eyes softening, that gentle smile returning to your face, as your ash-stained hair messily comes across your ears and forehead. You were always such a beauty, dirty or clean. Your ash and soot-coated hands take my offerings, and you hesitantly return to the fire. I stay by your side, and shoulder to shoulder, we both watch as the first flames flicker into being.

"Such a gentle start.. Isn't it? for something that'll be roaring before long." I muse, as the flame catches.