The feeling of your finger tips dusting cinnamon and sugar away from his lips is just as addictive as all the sweets you make. He also takes his baking assistant duties very seriously, everything must be tasted.
Despite the chill that overtook most during the winter season, he was shocked to see you get a near boost from it.
He loves the excuse to put his cold hands beneath your big-ass sweaters, holding onto you as you squirm and squeal.
Helping you deliver scarves, hats, and socks that you've begun knitting/gathering up to those who need them. Fontaine discovered that he likes giving gifts to the elderly the most.
Winter used to be bad for him. Cooped up in his darkened home, kept at bay from his only family by a single door. Cold from the drafts he never bothered to fix. Now he is excited because your home has become a winter time oasis, filled with warmth and new beginnings.
He woke to the feeling of your icy little feet sliding back into bed. He tucked closer, pressing his face against the softness of your breasts and inhaling the warm vanilla. He curled up and around you, throwing a leg over for good measure.
"Who said you could leave the bed?" He could feel you laughing as your arms came around him, "You took my heat, woman."
Your answer was to pepper his face with slow, soft kisses until the frown on his face turned into a sleepy pout.
In this little wonderful space of calm, the sounds of rain and wind dancing outside his window, Fontaine hoped you knew he loved you before slipping back into sleep beneath your lips.
"I have been sitting here in literal silence."
A snicker rocketed out of Fontaine's mouth and your whined, trying to move away from where he was so tenderly disinfecting your knees.
"Don't be like that, I fell too, baby!"
"Yeah, 'cause yo' ass was laughing so hard at me!"
There you were, trying to mind your business and be a good girlfriend to take out the trash! Then an ice patch purposefully formed right in front of your trash can.
One minute you were admiring the frosted branches, the next you were on your stomach Family Guy Style both of your knees on fire. Before you could clear your dizzy, you heard a terrible yelp and the ground near you shook as the love of your life slipped and fell right onto his ass.
And here he was again, laughing again in your face. You tried to repress the urge, but the memory of seeing Fontaine lift his head and look around as if he were pushed...
You curled in on yourself, holding in your snickers as best as you could.
"I should be the one up on the sink, g'damnit. Fell all on by back an' shit, trying to make sure yo' lil' ass was okay." Fontaine shook his head and went back to dabbing your knees.
"You did fall kinda hard, didn't you?" You straightened back up with a sigh, "How fast were you walking down the stairs, anyhow? You should know better when it's icy like that."
Fontaine's head tilted to the side and he stared up at you so miffed that you lost it again. He slapped on the band-aids and began packing up the first aid kit, only adding to your amusement.
"My black ass was only out there 'case someone just had to take out the trash! What do I tell you?"
After tossing the first-aid kit beneath the sink, he put his hands on either side of you. All trace of humor has left his face and to anyone else, he would have appeared thunderous.
You hopped off the sink to go toe-to-toe with him, wearing your own sneer.
"I couldn't leave it, I was the last one to stuff something in it!"
"What do I tell you, woman?"
Fontaine was now nose to nose with you. The sudden eye contact was going to trigger your giggle and the fucker knew that was the only way he could win.
"You claim...that bad things happen when I take out the trash."
"You got chased twice. By the same racoon, mind you."
You took a deep breath to extinguish your laugh, hiding your smile behind a dramatic frown.
"Way to bring up my trauma. Why don't ya just tell me to stay in the kitchen and make sandwiches while you're at it?!"
Fontaine's expression rippled, you nearly had him, "Women ain't supposed to take out the trash, I been told you that. It's bad luck!"
Your expression slipped at his theatrics and you couldn't catch it. Fontaine broke quickly after with a snort. Your own chuckles flowed out and you eventually admitted,
"I was scared of that raccoon, though. That's why I only take the trash out in the daytime now."
Ever the gentleman, Fontaine turned away but you could still see the bastard's shoulders trembling in the mirror.
"Baby, if you could have heard the-the way you said--
You already knew what he was going to bring up your panicked cry of old and you confirmed,
"It came straight at me!"
Fontaine laughed. Folding over you so you both leaned against the sink. You laughing into his crewneck, unable to stop yourself from hugging him. If he laughed like this every day, you'd get chased down by every raccoon in the Glen
In there, that small upstairs bathroom with the loose tile, with the snow falling steadily on the world outside, you understood devotion.
Together you sat on the front porch of your home. It was getting rather chilly, but Junebug insisted that you 'witness greatness'.
"Our block's kids got winter beef with the kids a few blocks over, 'specially with Maeve's boys." You explained to Fontaine who only got up to make more hot chocolate.
It was rather great, though. Once school was let out, it was like a great battle of old. Next Block Kids vs. June n' Da Gang. Snowballs and kiddie curses went flying, but by the time Fontaine returned with enough hot chocolate for a hockey team--a truce was reached.
You passed out the mugs together, enjoying the sounds of the tired but delighted little warriors that defended your home turf. Fontaine tucked you closer to him, pressing a kiss to your temple.
He looked as happy as you felt, watching as one of Junebug's friends gleefully broke the peace treaty by shoving snow down one of Maeve's boys pants.
end notes: thank you for reading! I needed to get this out to make room for my other fics lmao.
Tell me what you think! (More to come? 🫣)
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