Band Member Oneshots

Painkiller

In which you find your boyfriend Josh preparing breakfast the morning after your first time.

Josh wasn't that type of boyfriend.

That is, the type to leave after taking your virginity the night before

Yet, despite the fact that you repeated this veridical fact to your brain, the latter couldn't help but wonder why the right side of your bed-Josh's designated side- was empty when you woke up. Had he unexpectly had some errands to run and didn't want to wake you? Was he in another area of your appartment, leaving you to your beauty sleep. Had he left any trace or his absence- a text or a scribbled note perhaps- anywhere?

Or maybe, you though to yourself, I'm just slightly paranoid.

And indeed you were.

In fact, what had confirmed your suspicion was both the sudden combined aroma of rich frying buttermilk and of melting semi-sweet chocolate chips that had infiltrated your nostrils, and of the certainty that Josh was in your kitchen attempting to cook.

Intrigued by the emanating smell, you kick off the duvet of your body and stretch your limbs, which confirms a present soreness in between your legs, before slipping on your discarded panties and Josh's white T-shirt from the night before. Then delicately and silently, as to not further trigger your lower body ache and to not disturb the man in the kitchen, you cross the short distance between your bedroom and your kitchen.

"Josh?" you call out in awe once your feet step on the kitchen floor. A reaction undoubtedly caused by the sight unravelling before you that most of your single friends would probably be jealous of.

One where your shirtless, dishevelled, lightly scruffy, bleary-eyed and skinny-jean clad boyfriend is standing over your oven, cautiously tending to what looked and smelled like chocolate-chip pancakes.

"Hey sweetheart. How you're feeling this morning?" he asks in a doting tone as his mocha gaze shifts from the pan to meet yours.

A wave of nervous fluttering washes over your stomach as you recall how Josh had made use of the same caring tone and gaze the night before to make you feel at ease, pleasured, worshiped and yearning for more during the entirety of your shared intimate moment. But, just as your lips are about to curl into a smile at the train of events traveling through your brain, you're rudely interrupted by Josh suddenly going into overworked boyfriend mode, a consequence, you realize, of not having answered him without delay.

"Baby, if you're in pain, I can get you painkillers from the drugstore down the road. Or we can look up positions that will be comfortable for the both of us. Because you know baby all I want is for you to be comfort—"

"-Josh, would you shut up for just a second!" you interrupt him as a way of putting an end to his caring but unnecessary dramatic ways, which as expected leaves him completely stalled. "I'm just a bit sore, okay? And the only painkiller I need is to spend the day cuddling and binge-watching Netflix with you," you explain, which leaves Josh flashing a 1,000-watt smile in your way.

Yet, it was going to take more than just Josh's agreement for your painkiller to come alive. Because judging by the apparent smell of burnt chocolate chip pancakes and the blaring alarm of the smoke detector coming from the ceiling,, it was evident that your therapy Netflix session would either have to wait or be modified.

For now, anyway.