summary: you've been missing michael due to his long hours spend working with the cooperative. he has an important phone call, but you aren't going to let that stop you from reminding him of what he's missing out on.
warnings: oral sex (female receiving), phone sex...kinda? a vague form of exhibitionism? who even knows anymore.
word count: 2,047
♔♔♔
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It had been a longer day for Michael than you, but you were still exhausted. Home earlier than him, you managed to make some dinner, shower, and generally unwind while tucked into the oversized bed you shared, surrounded by sheets of a ridiculously high thread count, no doubt.
He still wasn't home. And it was late.
This, of course, wasn't a new thing. Since working with, and essentially running, the Cooperative, he had been overworked. Him coming through the door and collapsing into bed still dressed was a common occurrence. You'd be the one to pull off his boots, unbutton his shirt, while he dozed with eyes at half mast. Childlike wonder would color his features, forever in awe of the genuine care you had for him.
He had to be home soon though, you figured. And you hated to admit it...but you were feeling needy. Almost a little whiny. And really in the mood for him to fuck you until you were a screaming mess-something that had been occurring less and less due to his new schedule.
You couldn't help but perk up when you heard the key unlocking the front door, an unconscious smile pulled and heat already pooled in your belly. Michael. Kicking off the stark white blankets, quickly lamenting the loss of warmth, you ran to meet him in the kitchen where he was already looking through the fridge for the leftovers you kept for him.
By the time he noticed you, he was halfway done practically inhaling the unheated lasagna, completely bypassing the salad. His eyes widened as he was surprised you weren't already in bed, comfortably asleep and ready for him to curl around. "My dove," he mumbled around a bite and he tried to repress the way Constance would have reprimanded him for it.
"How was your day?" you asked as you made your way over to the counter that he was standing at.
Michael simply nodded, fork scraping the bottom of the container his dinner was in.
"You're tired?"
"Exhausted. Jeff and Mutt are still there on a coke bender. They're going to work through the night," he murmured. "Close to a 'breakthrough' on something or other."
