Microfiction Monday: For Skywatcher

Yeah, yeah. I'm buying into the commercialism and being sappy on February 14^th. I willingly accept all “cool-demotions.” This is for Skywatcher, my amazingly sexy, wonderfully patient and infinitely loving partner of many years. He was the first to post a suggestion to my contest page, and the only one who hasn't gotten his story yet. Yes, this microfiction is indeed about me and him, but no it has never actually happened. It could have, though!

*****

It started off as an absolutely perfect launch, and I was silly enough to say so and jinx it. The rocket's ascent was flawless, weather cocking just right into the incoming breeze so that it would have to travel back in the wind's direction once the chute opened. And open it did, also perfectly, which is when I decided to push my luck and comment on how nicely the flight was going for a certification high-power flight. Fate replied to my taunt by changing the wind's direction just as it caught the enormous parachute, sending it flying at a nice brisk speed directly away from us.

The LCO chuckled, and commented that it looked like I had a walk ahead of me as he passed me a two-way radio. You just grinned and said you were hoping for some exercise today anyway. Glad for a second set of eyes, I took off, squinting into the blinding afternoon sun as I tried to track the runaway rocket's trajectory. Suddenly that dorky wide-brimmed cowboy hat that I teased you so mercilessly for buying at the Irving on the way to the launch didn't seem quite so ridiculous after all. Even with a hand shielding my eyes, I wasn't having nearly as much success as you were keeping track of the errant missile.

It only took the rocket seven or eight minutes to land, but it was a good half hour of tromping through the brush before we reached it. Fortunately the company was pleasant. The rocket was hidden in scrub brush ahead of us, but I had cleverly covered the six-foot diameter parachute with glitter and it sparkled and shone in the bright sun like a beacon. I picked up speed and skipped over to make sure that the landing hadn't damaged my rocket, and I think I heard you snicker your amusement at my sudden excitement.

Perfect landing, the thing was unscathed, but there was still one more thing left to check. For high-power, this was at the very bottom end of the scale, but it was capable of much higher and faster flights so I'd set up a test payload in the electronics bay to make sure it was properly shielded. No way was I putting a hundred-dollar tracking device in a rocket that was just going to melt it first time it went up. I popped open the compartment, and pulled out the plastic Easter egg filled with M&M candies. Not even warm. I grinned up at you.

“See? Melts in your mouth, not in your rocket!”

I popped a handful into my mouth, and your amused grin turned into something more. You crouched down beside me, wrapped me in your arms, and our mouths met. I love that kind of kiss–when time just grinds to halt and nothing exists except the two of you...and the now two mouthfuls of melting candy. Seconds or forever later, you pulled away just a smidge, enough for us both to catch our breath.

“Hm, I guess you're right. You know... that was a pretty freak burst of wind back there, bringing us out here into the middle of nowhere. I bet the chance of another rocket heading out this way is pretty tiny.”

My shirt was already off before you finished the sentence. I went back to devouring your mouth while you fumbled with your buttons. The stupid hat was long gone so I could rub my hands through your super-short hair, loving the bristly feeling in my hands. I was in full on can't-wait-another-second-for-more contact arousal when the two-way crackled.

“Heads up, guys. Incoming in your direction.”

Damn. Jinxed it again.