Matty Healy Imagines

Reunion

Word Count: 2,947
Warnings: A big ol' mix of smut and fluff.
Summary: Matty and the reader have 'couple time' after not seeing each other for so long.

Two months, three days, five hours, and approximately twenty minutes.

That's how long you have been away from Matty, and he away from you. It was the height of his touring schedule for the year, the final leg before he went away to write and produce alongside George some new songs for the fans. As great as the prospect of going on tour was for the boys, it also possessed a downside that brought with it unparalleled regret and longing: you could not tag along.

The issue was, you worked. Weekly, every day minus the weekends. Unless Matty was nearby, you did not have the time to go and see his every tour date. It simply was not in the realm of possibility, and although Matty fully understood and respected your circumstances, it was not unknown that he disliked the fact. You were his medicine, his world, his happy place and support system to run to when things got bad. He adored you. Having you away for so long was painful no matter how happy touring made him. He simply wanted you, the touch of your skin, the beautiful gaze you gave him every time you told him you loved him. He needed it.

He thankfully did not have to wait any longer to see it again.

Fresh off an eight hour plane ride, Matty finally stepped foot back on British soil. The rest of the boys in the band watched him hurry to baggage claim, and listened to him grumble and complain incessantly when the bags did not return as fast as he wished, until finally they watched him rush to you. He crashed into your arms within seconds of finding you, bringing you as close to him as he could manage. Your eyes spilled with tears, and his watered from laughter at how dramatic you both were acting in such a crowded space. His arm snaked its way around your waist, and the two of you led the way for the rest of the band out of the airport. Matty bid them farewell at the parking garage entrance. He was needed elsewhere, and it was so obvious that that place was with you and not them. They understood without any words on the matter. Weeks of hearing Matty chat endlessly about you, him mumbling your name in sleep, and watching him drown his loneliness in his favorite wine were clue enough that he needed you-time. Who were they to refuse that?

It's a manageable forty-five minute drive back to your place. Matty hardly takes his eyes off you as you drive, his hand on your lap, his thumb rubbing circles on the exposed skin below your faded shorts. The air is electric, full of the anticipation of getting home, but just comfortable enough that you are able to focus on the drive ahead. Matty loved to tease you - it was a part of his fun, how he made moments like the one awaiting you at home interesting and thrilling. He knew however his and your boundaries, and he knew that he was much better at driving when getting teased than you. You needed some focus and a subtle reminder of what was to come, his hand on your lap, to make it back home ready and willing.

All bets went off, however, the moment the keys are taken out of the ignition. You barely make it out of your car before he is on you, pushing you up against the side of your car with his hands in your hair and his mouth on yours. It is a whirlwind of emotions - an easy zero-to-sixty moment. You feel him start to grind against you, his body communicating how much it missed yours, and cannot help the breath of air that leaves you in response. Your mind rushes, heart beating a mile a minute, but you know you have to get inside before you can comply with his wishes and unspoken requests. Public sex was always something you two had discussed being a bucket list item to one day knock off, but this was not the time. No, the matter at hand is more serious, urgent, needy. It required a bed, and a proper go at it.

Five minutes and a hickey placed devilishly where it could hardly be hidden by clothing later, and you both find yourself inside your small flat. It is not much, certainly not compared to Matty's four-story one decked out in ostentatiousness and evidently Matty decor. Matty always said he loved it, though. He always told you so, especially in the mornings when you would make him breakfast to cure his hangover and allowed him time to examine it all. From the soft maroon drapes over your windows to the scattering of pictures on the wall of your favorite people in your life - which included photos of you both, he loved it. Passing by those photos even in your frenzied state, he makes sure to comment on how perfect they are to him. You tell him to shut up and keep kissing you, but the gesture makes your heart soar.