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"Are You Going to Talk to Me?"- Chris Evans

It was another bright and splendid Tuesday morning, only made better by the fact that your husband, Chris, was home from being out on the job. He stayed pretty busy, gone for long periods of time, but since the to of you had gotten married three years ago, he had made an effort to work less and talk jobs that didn't require him to be gone for so long.

You rolled over out of Chris' bare and sinuous arms, just long enough to grab your phone. You wanted to get a gander at the weather, a habit that had yet to die despite you had now lived in LA for years. Most days it was always the same weather, sunny, lack of humidity, with a rare shower every few months.

You had your back to Chris now and you felt him shift marginally before his arm was around your torso and pulling you closer into him and squeezing you ever-so-gently. Out of nowhere, you heard a surprising giggle drift from your throat and into the morning air. You supposed you were just ecstatic to have him wake up beside you and hold you in the early morning. It had been a month since you had been able to sleep in the same bed. There had been day visits, but you always had to get back to work or he had odd filming hours.

"Good morning, my love." He leaned over to place his lips on your temple before brushing your hair away from your face. You turned over to face him after unplugging your phone.

"Good morning to you, Nicky-poo," you grinned teasingly, shifting onto your back. He simply smiled and rolled his eyes.

"You must be happy if you're calling me that."

"I am happy! You're finally home and I got to wake up beside you." You paused, clearing your throat in attempts of imitating the one Peggy Carter, "It's been so long...so long."

You both begin cackling at your horrible rendition and Chris collapsed onto your shoulder and tugging you close throughout his laughter.

"God, I've missed you."

"Right back at you," your voice softened. You tugged his hair gently to encourage him to lift his face to yours. He immediately understood and planted his lips gingerly on yours. The kiss was light, friendly, playful until it wasn't. The month of being apart crept into each of your minds. The distance, the time apart, the growing hunger for each other's touch crashed in and the kiss speedily accelerated to a more passionate, necessitous, sweet, and sticky kiss. Chris' body crawled across yours as the kiss heated up, straddling you as your fingers crawled up his back and curled into his thick locks. You could feel his hand on your thigh, moving up and down, but not attempting to remove any clothing without permission. Three years of marital sex and he still waited for permission. "Please," you whispered longingly between the parting of your lips. Just as he reached the hem of your pajama shorts, you heard a familiar clicking and began smiling, despite that the moment would be over. A creme and tan body flew onto the bed colliding with Chris, causing both bodies to crumble on top of you.

"OOF!" You couldn't stop yourself from shouting as the air gushed out of your body from the weight that suddenly hit you.

"Bubba!" Chris whined, only slightly irritated. "Come on, man. Don't be a cockblock!"

"Too late," you snickered. "Come on, let's go get brunch. I'm famished." You rubbed Dodger's head and scratched behind his ears as he practically pushed Chris off of you so that he could lay on top of you to receive all his pets. This exchange was often a part of every morning's routine while Chris was away. Dodger loved Chris more, but it was only by a slight bit.

"Can't we just lock Dodger out and build up even more of a hunger," he groaned. Dodger whined in response, causing you both to laugh.

"I believe that's a 'No,' from Dodge." Chris flipped his body over and stared at the ceiling, minor frustration floating across his features. You lifted Dodger off of you and he jumped to the floor, then sat his paws against the bed in his DOGscar-winning begging performance. You sat up and leaned towards Chris, giving him a peck on the cheek.