Honey

38. Pancakes And Painkillers.

"B, it's time to get up, c'mon babe, don't make me have to bribe you."

"Bribe me? I'm listening."

This is Thomas's third attempt at getting me to wake up. If you couldn't already tell, we're having a slight disagreement on the subject.

Thomas sighs, running a hand down his face in clear annoyance. "I'll make pancakes."

"I knew there was a reason I loved you so much!" I exclaim, my prior exhaustion disappearing as I throw the covers off me. I can most definitely make exceptions for pancakes. I'm about to get up when I'm pinned back down, Thomas jumping on top of me with a scowl, his eyes staring daggers at me.

"That's not the reason you love me B." His tone makes his words sound more like an order than anything else and I have to purse my lips to withhold a laugh at his stern expression.

"Last night should be evidence enough, or should I remind you?" I trail my hands down his back, his muscles tensing beneath my feather light touch. I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, causing Thomas to groan loudly.

"Don't do this to me baby, you wore me out last night you know?"

"Oh come on! A big burly quarterback like you doesn't have enough stamina for round two? I find that very hard to believe."

"Well believe it love, I barely slept a wink with you wiggling your ass against me all night. You know you move quite a bit in your sleep." My face flushes in embarrassment and I bury my face in the crook of his neck. Thomas only laughs lightly at my actions, moving his arms around my waist and quickly standing up. I grab onto his shoulders tightly and wrap my legs around him.

"Why are you being so shy baby? I thought you wanted round two?"

"I'm hungry, I want pancakes." I ignore his questions, burying my face further into his shoulder as he strokes my back in a soothing motion. It's then that I realise I'm not wearing anything other than my underwear and I scurry out of Thomas's arms just as he's about to open the door.

"I need clothes first you psycho!" I screech, wincing from the unfamiliar pain in my back and lower regions when my feet hit the floor. My knees shake and I can barely stand for a second before I have to lean against Thomas's chest to keep me upright.

"Fuck, carry me please," I whine, looking up to see Thomas smiling knowingly down at me. He kisses the top of my head lightly, ruffling my hair before picking me up with an admirable lack of effort.

He walks to my closet and opens it for me. I point towards a pair of sweatpants and he grabs them, about to shut it when I smack his chest. "A shirt too Thomas!" He looks displeased by this but complies, rooting for a while before coincidentally choosing my favourite tank top. "I know you want to look at me babe, but I'd rather not have my whole family see...these!" I look down for the first time to see that my collarbone and chest are littered with marks and hickeys. My eyes travel further down to see a few more just above the waistline of my boxers.

Thomas smirks when he finally takes the time to admire his handiwork, setting me down on the bed. The look of pride disappears however when I snatch the tank top he'd chosen from his hand, quickly pulling it over my head. I'd rather keep these between us, other than the few that seem to peak out. Upon seeing that the ones littering my collarbone are still visible, Thomas seems to brighten up a bit, leaning down to place a kiss to my lips before lowering himself completely to the ground, lifting each leg to help me put on the sweatpants.

It takes some rather uncomfortable manoeuvres, but eventually the sweatpants are on and I sigh in relief. Thomas stands up from his kneeling position in front of me and frowns down at me, crossing his arms over his chest. The colourful tattoos that line each of his arms contrast against his chest which is bare of any ink other than the one that runs up his bicep and halfway to his collarbone. I quickly realise that I've never really taken the time to look at them. They're really beautiful, and there's not anything too extravagant that would look too obnoxious. They suit him. I'm not sure if any of them hold any sentimental value, but tuck that thought away to ask him later.