A/N: Prompted by anon on Tumblr.

This one ended up fluffier just because the prompt sounded fluffier to me. Also, John has dwelled on his insecurities enough to last him several lifetimes. ;)

2. A Sight She Could Get Used To

John wasn't aware of what time it was, only that it was late enough for the sun to be streaming cheerfully in through the window, lighting up the room. In their haste to rediscover each other last night, they had both completely forgotten about drawing the moth-eaten curtains shut.

Anna was still sleeping peacefully in his arms. Her hair was in disarray over the pillows, tickling at his nose. Her face was so near to him that he could close the short distance between them and kiss her with no great difficulty. Still, he resisted the temptation, contenting himself with drinking her in. It wasn't often that she got to sleep in past six in the morning. In fact, it had never happened. She deserved to sleep for as long as she wanted.

But God, she was beautiful, and so very hard to resist.

The previous night had been more incredible than he could ever have dreamed of. Everything had gone so seamlessly, so naturally. He had expected Anna to be nervous, a little shy (he himself had been, a bit), after so long apart. But she had surprised him, showing him nothing but confidence, and he had been thrilled to discover the garter that she had teased him with those long months ago.

It had been an endless night. He had teased her incessantly with his lips and his tongue and his teeth. The garter had stayed for the duration. There had been something about seeing her with her hair down and her body naked except for her garter and her smile and her wedding ring that had set him alight. He had loved every moment of making love to her, making her feel as good as he possibly could, her loud cries of pleasure enough to spur him on. He had been entranced by the way that she had gripped at the bed sheets, twisting them in her hands, the way that she'd arched her back up against him, the way that she'd allowed her hands to roam over every inch of his body, desperate to learn him. He had tried to memorise everything about her in those moments: the soft heat of her centre, enveloping him so tightly; her fingernails biting into his shoulder blades; her nipples pressed against his chest hair; the feel of her breath so hot on his face as she'd exhaled in a desperate groan. When they had finally slept, slick with sweat and exhaustion, they had held each other close, pressed together intimately, never letting go.

But now it was morning, and John needed to move. Carefully, he began to disentangle himself from his wife's arms, releasing his grip on her body so that he could unwind her arms from around his waist. She mumbled a protest, half-asleep, and he couldn't resist pressing a kiss against her forehead before he rolled onto his other side. Slowly, he planted his feet against the floor, shuddering at the cold air that hadn't warmed despite the sun. For a brief moment, he considered pulling on his clothes, then quickly dismissed it. It would take too long to bother, and propriety needn't rule in their own home, where no one else could see them. John smirked to himself a little at the thought of that, and didn't even bother pausing to pick up his shorts from the floor. He tried to navigate himself over the creaking floorboards, but winced when he trod on a particularly loud one – they hadn't lived there long enough to work out the cottage's secrets. He chanced a glance behind him to see Anna stirring more emphatically, her arms stretching out.

"John?" she mumbled drowsily, voice a little slurred, and he felt his heart swell with love. He could barely believe that all of this was real.

"I'm here, love," he said gently, and he watched as she rolled over woozily, her half-open eyes finding him.

"What are you doing?" she murmured. "Come back to bed."

He felt himself flush all over. He would never grow accustomed to such a notion ever being possible. Still, he couldn't stop himself from smiling as he answered. "I just need to go to the bathroom. I'll be back soon."

"Don't be too long," she said. "I can't keep the bed warm alone."

He chuckled, then hurried out of the room and along the corridor. The cottage was beautiful, even if it was still in a state of disrepair. It would be truly wonderful once they managed to clean it up a bit.

A few minutes later, he was returning to their bedroom. He expected to find Anna snoozing again – she had been half-asleep, after all – but now she was propping herself up on one elbow, facing the door, looking a little brighter. Once she caught sight of him returning, she grinned broadly.

"That's a sight I could certainly get used to, Mr. Bates," she purred at him, and all at once he remembered his state of undress. Flushing gently, he closed the door behind him. He wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do. The feeling of Anna's eyes roving so unreservedly over his form brought up the twin emotions of desire and embarrassment. What was she thinking as she looked upon him? Was she seeing his flaws for the first time? Was she disgusted? He chanced a glance up into her eyes, to find that her heated stare was focused on his lower body. There was nothing but lust in her gaze, and it took his breath away. It was also beginning to affect him, too – he felt the warning twinge from low down and felt himself flush darker at the realisation that she was arousing him simply by looking at him. It made him feel so wonderful, to know that she didn't find him repulsive, that she was clearly finding his body as attractive as he found hers. He knew that he was flawed – he didn't have the body of a young man like Mr. Branson, was aware that perhaps he was still too much on the plump side despite the effects of the prison food – so knowing that Anna was looking upon him with such a licentious look in his eyes was simply indescribable.

The grin that curled the corners of Anna's mouth was both lazy and wicked.

"Well, well," she said. "It looks as if I'm about to receive a good morning gift."

Her candid words had him supressing the urge to groan, and she let her eyes slowly move up to meet his. He held her gaze heatedly, and she slowly peeled the covers back from the bed. Her body was suddenly enveloped in sunlight, and he swallowed hard. Every single part of her was suddenly deliciously on show, and his body was most definitely springing to attention now.

"I'm still waiting, Mr. Bates," she said flirtatiously. "Come back to bed now."

He didn't need telling again.