“Babe, I’m home!” he calls as he trudges in the house. You turn the corner from the bedroom and stop for a moment when you see the state he’s in— bruised hands, bleeding lip, blackened eye, body glistening with sweat, and chest still heaving slightly from heavy excursion. “Liam!” you exclaim, rushing up to him. “It was just a boxing match, babe, it was just fun.” he reassures. “How is getting yourself banged up like this fun?” you question, concern in your eyes as you lightly finger his swollen cheek. He winces a bit before carefully grabbing your wrist. “I’m fine, really. The boys just went a bit harder on me this time, that’s all. I’m going to go shower so I can properly say hello to you, okay?” You frown as he drops his gym bag off beside him and walks off to the bedroom. You watch his broad shoulders disappear through the doorway before starting off towards the kitchen. By the time he is finished showering, you’ve prepared several ice packs, bandages, and pain medication, ready to doctor him up. ”Babe-” he begins in protest. “Don’t say a word. Sit down on the chair. .. NOW.” you chide, pushing his chest back and reclining the chair. You carefully dot around the scratches on his face, making sure they’re disinfected before placing small bandages on them. Then you put the largest ice pack on his swollen, purple cheek and instruct him to hold it there. After that you clean and hydrate his knuckles. “Did you not use gloves?” you ask in concern, perhaps even a little motherly, as you rub the ointment on his scraped hands. “Well..” he starts, wincing, “It was kind of ‘man’ thing. You know, not wearing gloves.” You sigh. “I’d chide you more and tell you you’re already enough of a man for me, but I know it wouldn’t change a thing.” A smile creeps out from underneath the ice pack. “They must have gotten you pretty good, even your lip is busted up.” you comment. “You shoulda seen the other guys.” he grins. “I was waiting for that.” you roll your eyes. “You’re lucky that despite your cheesiness and your wild boyish— excuse me, manly— competitive nature, I put up with you and what you put me through.” you retort, placing one last bandage. He lowers the ice pack and grins like a little kid. “Do you think you could kiss it better?” he asks, playing on your subtle insult. “What?” you ask. “My lip. Kiss it better.” You raise your eyebrows. “Remember that thing I said about being cheesy and how I put up with it anyway? This is almost too much for me to put up with.” you playfully get up to walk away. He giggles and stands up, pulling you back by your waist. “I’m sorry.” he replies. “Sorry for..” you ask expectantly. “Sorry for making you worried.. and getting beat up..” “Because—” “— because I was trying to prove my manliness.” “Which?” “Which I didn’t need to do. And for my cheesiness.” You nod in satisfaction. “Well then I guess I forgive you.” you smile and then add, “And.. the black eye is a little bit sexy.” He grins back as you place a gentle kiss on his lips. “Better?” you ask. “Mmm.. I think more kissing is necessary for it to feel better. It’s a pretty bad one.” you laugh as he leans to kiss you again.
