ACHES

16. miserable

He was home all at once, the front door unlocking and opening, his shoes kicked off, his keys clattering on the counter. His arms, all mine, returned to me, around me. He kissed my cheek enthusiastically, dipping into me with enunciated hums.

"Tell me all about it," I kissed him, his lips still the same. Stubble on his chin still the same. The only thing new was the strawberry tint of a sunburn peeking under his collar.

He lingered on my bottom lip, sighing, "It was horrible."

"Oh no," I giggled, closing my eyes. He pressed kisses into my chin, and along my jaw to my ear.

"I went to bed alone," he whined. "I woke up alone."

"Poor thing," I rubbed his arms soothingly.

"Nobody to kiss," he dropped his head into the crook of my neck. "Life is so empty without you, sweetheart."

"Good," I joked, putting my arms around him. I dragged my fingers up and down his spine.

"You like me miserable, don't you?" He laughed, and I could feel him blinking against my shoulder.

"Of course not," I gasped. "Just when you're without me."

"I am miserable without you," he pulled back, looking down at me. He cupped my face, thumbing my cheekbone. "I don't want to leave you again."

"You'll be okay," I smiled. His bottom lip twitched. "I'll be okay."

He sighed, deep and heavy, "I need a shower."

"I have one," I grinned, and pulled him to the bathroom. I sat on the counter while he brushed his teeth, his hand holding my thigh. I watched him spit into the sink, splashing water on his face. He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it at me. I flung it to the floor.

He stood between my thighs, tugging at the elastic of my shorts at my hip.

"How's this doing?" He asked gently, twirling a finger around the healing burn. My face flushed, and I looked at the inside of his elbow.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"I think I understand it now," he skipped his thumb over the wound, and I winced. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

"I want you to remember when I'm sweet to you," he let go of my waistband, burying his fingers in my hair instead. "I don't want you to associate me with pain."

"Okay," I agreed. He nodded, as if we had made a deal.

"I do think we should get tattoos together," he smirked, extending my arm. He traced a circle in the middle of my bicep, just above the crease of my elbow. "My name would look nice here."

"I won't get your name tattooed," I laughed.

"Why not?" He frowned, pointing at the space above his bellybutton. "Your name would fit perfectly here."

"Absolutely not," I grabbed his hands. "We'd have to get something else. Something actually interesting."

He tilted his head to the side, "Like what?"

"You should surprise me."

He laughed, head lurching back, "Now that sounds like a bad idea."

"It's not!" I defended, "Just a word. A nice word. You can put it just above my hip."

He sighed, "Maybe."

"In your handwriting," I suggested.

"Absolutely not," he choked. "I'd never put that on your body."

"Come on," I pouted, laying my hand against his cheek sweetly.

"Well," he sighed, turning his face into my hand and kissing my palm. "I can't say no to you."

I giggled, letting him bite at the heel of my hand.

"I'm taking you tomorrow, then," he winked, giving my hand a final kiss.

"Tomorrow?" I asked, clearing my throat.

"Not interested anymore, darling?" He grinned, undoing his belt.

"I'm interested," I frowned.

"You're too scared, aren't you?" He kicked his jeans off. "This is your first tattoo, isn't it?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" He repeated, smirking. "Are you hiding a tattoo from me?"

"No," I laughed, squirming as he tried to pull off my shirt. "I'm not!"

"I don't believe you," he smiled. "You'll just have to prove it."

I squinted, pulling my shirt over my head.

"Still not convinced."

I opened my mouth, shaking my head. I sighed, hopping off the counter and slipping out of my shorts. He shrugged, taking off his underwear and turning on the shower. He stepped into the shower, closing the door behind him. I sighed, frustrated, and stripped, joining him.

"Oh my God, what are you doing in here?" He feigned shock, hand pressed to his chest. "Can't a man shower in peace?"

"No tattoos," I raised my eyebrows, spinning slowly for him. He nodded slowly, tilting his head back to wet his hair. Water rushed in streaks down his neck, shining down his collarbone. I followed a bead at his hip, watching it crash down to his ankle.

"I know," he whispered, hands pulling through his hair. "Don't you know I have you memorized already?"

I felt delirious from the steam. Cold crept up the back of my neck, my legs feeling weak and loose. He kissed me, knowing I had nothing to say. He crowded me into the corner of the shower, water spitting onto my shoulders. I let him fuck me until I was shivering and dumb, the hiss of the shower head ringing in symphony with his pretty expletives. He wrapped me in a towel, kissing my wet neck until I fell asleep, damp and cradled under the duvet.