Ilia sighed contentedly as Link laid her down in the hay. How many times had she dreamt of this moment? Admittedly she'd never imagined it taking place in the hay loft, but she was quickly discovering that the setting didn't matter; that this most monumental of events was taking place with her best friend, whom she'd loved her entire life, was far more important.
She gazed upwards, her view of the ceiling mercifully obstructed by his beautiful eyes, and waited for the kiss she knew was coming. His lips found hers and passion took over; hands roamed, tugging at belts, buckles and buttons as their bodies entwined. Link's tongue danced around the shell of her ear and she felt a pleasant throbbing sensation begin between her thighs.
Then thunder rumbled overhead and Ilia felt herself jerk involuntarily, although Link didn't appear to respond. A second burst thundered loudly and with a start she awoke, cold and alone in the hay loft, one hand clamped between her thighs, vainly trying to hold on to the pleasant sensations of her dream.
With a frustrated sigh Ilia blinked and watched a shadow dance along the stable wall. As her sleep-fogged brain struggled to catch up with what her eyes were seeing she let out a strangled: "Oh!"
She wasn't alone.
The storm had been something of a godsend. Struggling to sleep in his bed after so many nights abroad it was the perfect excuse to slip off to the stable and check on the goats. He'd run full pelt up the small hill to the ranch, hoping to outrun the imminent rain, and slipped inside the familiar building as though it was only yesterday he'd left.
He walked though the stalls, murmuring sweet nothings to calm the skittish animals and humming to himself as he went. He was near the back of the building when he heard it - someone was moaning in the hay loft.
He glanced around quickly looking for a weapon of some sort and, finding nothing close at hand, decided to rely on stealth to surprise the intruder. He scaled the ladder to the upper level quickly, pausing only to wish he'd thought to bring his sword, and then stepped forward into the gloom.
He hadn't gone far when he saw her.
She was lying on a pile of hay, curled in on herself, her cheeks flushed and one hand creeping down between her thighs. He blushed and knew he should leave, look away, anything but stand and stare but his body seemed to have a will of its own and he couldn't tear his eyes away.
He flinched as thunder rumbled over head, spurring him into action. He had to leave quickly before she awoke. BAM! Another crash of thunder scuppered all his good intentions. Blinking, Ilia let out a quiet "Oh!" of surprise as she woke and saw him there. There was an awkward pause, during which the rain hammered on the roof and the goats rustled about below.
"I'm sorry," Link finally whispered. "I heard a noise..." His voice trailed off, words failing him.
"I-I was dreaming," Ilia stammered, slowly removing her hand from between her legs in the hope that he wouldn't notice where it had been. She was startled by how broad he looked, how tall standing over her. "What are you doing here? I thought, your first night back and all, you'd want to rest."
"It's too quiet indoors. I can't remember the last time I slept in a bed... It just didn't feel right. When the storm started I thought I'd come check on the goats, maybe sleep in the loft... You?" He finished lamely.
"I couldn't sleep. I like it up here; it smells kind of damp and earthy and warm and sweet all at the same time... It reminds me of you." This last part was barely a whisper and she was glad of the gloom that was settled over them as it concealed her blush.
There was a pause, during which he looked down at her somewhat anxiously and both focused for a time on the rain drumming on the roof.
"I'm sorry I woke you," he ventured at last. "I'll just..." He made as though to leave.
"Don't go!" She said far too quickly, a note of panic in her voice. He paused and a smile graced her lips, a smile which was quickly mirrored on his own face, his beautiful elfin features making her heart ache. "I- Stay? Please?"
He nodded, ever a man of few words. She shifted her body over to make room on the pile of hay for him. He took her cue and sat down next to her, his mind running over a thousand memories of them doing exactly this as they were growing up.
"Just like old times," she said, seeming to read his mind. He nodded again, smiling at the connection they shared. After a moment she asked: "Do you know what I was dreaming about?"
He shook his head, although he had a pretty shrewd idea. "It looked like a good dream," he said simply.
"It was," she smiled, twisting her body round to face him and tucking her knees up under herself. "Maybe I should've asked if you knew who I was dreaming about."
Silence pressed in on them, even the rustle of the goats seeming to halt entirely. The rain was dying out, drifting away, and Ilia was suddenly very aware of the beating of her heart.
"You," she said at last, her hand snaking across the hay, fingers twining so easily with his. "It's always you."
He gulped audibly as her free hand trailed upwards; soft, slender fingers tracing his cheekbone. Suddenly her face was very close to his and he was horribly aware of his own breathing. His eyes flickered nervously across her features as she gazed at him intently.
"Ever the gentleman," she whispered when he didn't make a move. "I know we're only young, but we're both old enough to know what we want... I want you. I always have."
He blinked, a little startled at how forward his old friend was suddenly being. Then his brain caught up with his heart, which had been hammering a mile a minute since he'd found her sleeping in the hay, and he brushed his lips against hers.
The kiss was kind of sloppy, experimental. Neither was particularly experienced but they quickly learned that didn't matter. Their confidence grew, and with it the intensity of the kiss. Ilia lay backwards and Link followed suit, settling his weight against her as best he could on the shifting hay. It was comforting, the feel of him bearing down on her, and she couldn't help but smile. This was better than she could ever have dreamt.
His eyes flickered across her face, drinking in every detail in the half-light of the stable. His lips met hers once more, one hand sliding up to play with the hair at the nape of her neck. Feeling braver, his tongue traced her lower lip; begging for entrance, asking permission. Her lips parted willingly and he didn't hesitate to dart his tongue inside. They duelled fiercely for several moments until both found a pace that suited them.
Ilia's hand roamed over his back, her fingers pressing through the thin cotton of his shirt, and Link was suddenly aware of how uncomfortably tight his trousers had become. He tried to shift his weight in the hope she wouldn't notice – he didn't want to alarm her – but she held onto him resolutely, lifting her hips slightly to press herself against him. He broke the kiss, pulling back so he could gaze into her face. She read the silent question reflected in his bright blue eyes and nodded her assent.
This was ok. It was better than ok. It was all she'd ever wanted.
He licked his lips slowly and lowered his head once more, this time focusing his attention on the smooth hollow of her throat. She arched her back against him and he smiled. Instinct was slowly replacing nerves and he traced his tongue along the hollow once more, eager to elicit further reaction from the beautiful woman lying beneath him.
At some point, he couldn't say when, Ilia had succeeded in divesting him of his shirt and he relished in the feel of the cool stable air on his skin. He slid one hand slowly beneath her own shirt, fingers creeping softly across her stomach, giving her plenty of time to protest if he was going too far or too fast. A gentle moan escaped her lips and he smiled, bending his head to take her earlobe between his teeth. Afterwards, he couldn't say exactly what had prompted him to do it. It just seemed right at the time.
The tightness in his trousers was almost unbearable now and Ilia's sharp nails raking at the waistband weren't helping. He tried vainly to focus on something else to help relieve the tension but in that moment Ilia wriggled free of her nightdress and all coherent thought left him. He groaned quietly and she grinned a devilish grin, pleased at the effect she was having on him. Whilst he struggled with his own internal battle she struggled and freed him of the last of the barriers keeping them apart.
With nothing but skin to separate them now Ilia paused and drank in the sight before her; the chiselled cheekbones, sculpted stomach and muscled arms that a year of combat had bestowed upon him. She ran her hands across his body, taking in every minute detail even as his own callused fingers returned the favour. One hand slipped slowly between her thighs, retracing the path her own fingers had walked not so long ago. The warmth he'd expected, the wetness was a surprise. She gasped as his thumb found that delicate bundle of nerves and her back arced again involuntarily. Aware that she was enjoying that Link sought to hold off his own gratification and please her first but it was proving exceedingly difficult. If he didn't get some form of release soon he might explode.
At that moment Ilia, buoyed by the pleasure she'd been feeling, slid her own hands between their bodies and with trembling fingers stroked the tip of his erection. He groaned loudly and quickly caught her hand with his own.
"Please," he whispered. "I can't..." His voice trailed off, eyes squeezed shut as he fought to regain control. When he opened them next she was looking anxious and he quickly kissed her to allay her fears.
"I'm ready," she breathed softly in his ear as they broke apart and it was all the invitation he needed. With a little guidance from her he slid inside, enveloped in her tightness and warmth. He met some resistance and kissing her once fiercely he pressed his forehead to hers and pushed forwards. Her gasp of pain tore at his heart, all thoughts of his own pleasure temporarily erased. He paused, foreheads still touching and eyes tightly shut so he didn't have to see the discomfort on her face. Then her lips found his and he dared to look down. She smiled weakly and it was all the encouragement he needed. As slowly as he dared he began to move and to his relief she started to move with him, their bodies finding a rhythm that suited them both. He could feel the pleasure building quickly, felt the muscles in his stomach tighten, and then it was all over.
They lay there for what felt an eternity, bodies entwined, panting heavily. Guilt settled on him like a lead weight.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. Steeling himself to look down at her face he was surprised to see her smiling.
"It's ok," she whispered. "You've got all night to make it up."
A/N: This popped into my head an hour ago and voila... I've been reading a lot of 'M' rated stories on here lately that just don't seem realistic to me - they're always like the world's most experienced virgins or something which is just jarring - so I thought I'd write my own. This is a little cheesy but I'm being brave and posting it (the bottle of wine I've downed has helped!) and I'd appreciate your honest opinion. :) Thanks!