A/N: Requested anonymously on tumblr (anotheropti) as 3x14 make-up sex. Somehow nobody has requested this yet, so I obviously have to cure this failure in the system.

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"Hey," Andy says, stopping her at the threshold to the house. "Babe, hey, um…"

"Yeah?" she turns and leans back against the wall to watch him try and figure out the words.

The argument was bad, in that it was an argument. They'd never fought like that before, at least as a couple. In a way it was new, and that counted for something, but she yelled at him and he even raised his voice and sounded so depressed and put out that it drained every bit of energy from her. From the both of them, it seemed since Andy all but gave up on music simply because she made it sound like she didn't care about his.

"I'm, um, sorry," he scratches at the back of his neck and looks away from her as he speaks.

"For what?"

"Not paying attention to your music stuff," he gestures at her like he has no idea what to do with his hands.

"Dude, I should be apologizing to you–"

"No way!. You did, like, a hundred cool things for me today," he bites his lip and the confusion on his face is so sweet, and April wants to smother him in love to show him he's not getting how this works. Oh, a simple mind obsessed with treating her like a queen. "And… I dunno, you're so amazing and the best, and I love you so much and–"

"And I love you too, babe," she walks closer to him, running her hands up his arms and behind him to pull him closer. He responds in kind. "Seriously, we're being… ugh, adult about this. It's awesome, like you said."

When she says it with a grimace he smiles so widely that it's infectious. Leaning up, she kisses him and relishes the fact that it's only been, like, a few hours but not kissing him that long was a nightmare. The actual worst. She can't describe how crappy it felt, but this – the way his hands get caught up in her loose shirt and tug up to make room for his fingers along her nearly bare back, and the taste of his tongue along hers, and the feel of his curls in her hand and the pudge and muscle of his body all for her – this was catharsis. It was a curious push-pull for a moment, April bringing her body snug to his and Andy pressing her back against the inside of the threshold; April nibbling at his lip, tasting him, and Andy pulling her legs up and around his side.

"We're so awesome at being married," he breathes against her lips between kisses like he's starving for more.

"I know, right?" she laughs a little, just a small titter, before going back in, using him and the wall for support and eager for more of the attention of his hands across her back and digging her hands into all of him.

"I really, really wanna apologize," Andy pulls her with him and she's so startled in that second because she feels like she'll drop and instead clings tightly to him and remains seated on him and curled about his body. "Like, really apologize. In a, y'know, awesome way. Not like we did earlier, though. I mean, I promised what we were gonna do and you–"

"Andy–"

"I mean sex," he says bluntly.

"Oh, I never woulda guessed," she rolls her eyes and Andy just laughs along before walking them back into the house. Blindly he goes, his mouth too obsessed with the curve of her shoulder and how much skin is available there to look at where they're headed. They've done this enough that he's used to waltzing into their bedroom without looking, legs around him, breasts in hands or mouth, hands down pants, you name it. "Babe," she whispers, touching the back of his head to get his attention.

"Hm?"

"Dude, I wanna make sure that we're, like, one hundred percent totally fine–"

"Well, I said I wanna apologize first," he purrs against her cheek, kissing down to her neck and arcing forward to dip her onto the bid. She lies back, and Andy sinks to his knees immediately, hands cupping her ass and dragging her towards him. "I wanna make it up to you."

"Andy…"

Instead, he pushes his body along hers again until they're meeting once more and he tastes genuine and goes slowly, sincerely like she might reject him. Her hands go to his face quickly, wanting to keep them like these forever and Andy takes the hint. With her legs still hooked over and around him, she wants them to stay like this – just apologizing without words, letting their tongues do the work and their lips crush and bruise the sorry and I love you into each other until it's the most obvious thing in the world. It always was, but now it was important they felt it.

April felt it, a buzzing and whirring throughout her body and where his wayward hand reaches. He unzips her jeans slowly, still eager to grind their bodies together senselessly and neck like teenagers obsessed with each other; he works his fingertips in when the zipper has moved barely anywhere, eager to brush past metal and denim to touch along her.

She hisses when his index finger slides downward, tracing her through underwear, rubbing his fingers together gently and smirking against her lips.

"What's so funny?" she asks.

"Oh nothing," he mutters, still grinning. "I just can't wait, babe. You're already super wet."

He moves his fingers back, April grateful for it when he slowly rubs vertically and back to her stomach where she leans backward until she's staring down at him across her chest. By now the whirring has become an undeniable thunderstorm throughout her body, and she's bucking and shaking at his touch. She is definitely not whimpering, no matter what noise she makes when he slides her pants off. He's eager, and she can tell. Still, he waits. He looks down at the black underwear with comical stars sewn across it. His finger – wet finger, she notes with a groan – traces them, covering bush underneath and working downward, further and yet not far enough, and pressing lightly against her with that excited, almost shaky touch.

"You wanna know how I'm gonna apologize?" he asks, slurred like he's ready to pass out on lust.

"How?" April returns, chest heaving and clawing at the bedspread because she can't wait to just let go here.

Instead of saying anything, Andy nudges his nose up to her leg and runs his lips along the inside of her thigh. Thunder broils into lightning that cracks down through her stomach, urging her to come somehow, some way. Preferably with that mouth, running and speaking and marking her leg until he's got a mouthful of her through underwear. Soaked, dreadfully wet in his mouth, and he teases and prods and pouts his lips on where he can feel her clit budding against her body.

For every moment of build up, the next is ten of those combined. Andy pulls at her panties, dragging them off of her in a flourish before darting low again to devour her. Facial hair scrapes along her skin in sudden intensity, his tongue a whirlwind brewing in the storm. His eyes flicker up to her, hands groping her legs and touching her one cheek again like he's missed this one day so much that he needs to feel every inch of her.

"Babe," she murmurs. "Fuck. Babe, babe…"

She knows when she starts babbling he just goes further, more and more. It's all part of her plan.

Andy's sloppy sometimes, but right now he's focused like he wants to make sure she knows that this is an even better apology than she could have hoped for. Really, she loves him and Andy eager to eat her out was basically halfway towards getting her off. It wasn't hard, and she never claims it to be. Actually breaking her body into these quantifiable zones, these little disasterpieces of their own with blasts of energy and those trickling bolts of sensation when he mouths her clit and sucks, fingers playing at her; or when he kisses her leg, hands massaging gentle circles into the rest of them, while she's nearly breathing out a cry for more? It's all these little things, touches of his hair or the hum of his voice when he's grunting along her pussy, tasting her and consuming every inch of her available. All of that makes her squirm in his hands, arch her back up, undulate her stomach in anticipation and squeeze her ankles against his body because, for the Love of God his fingers curl in the most heavenly way and his tongue knows the exact curve and arc to bring her rolling halfway over and shaking her legs into a stuttering, powerful release.

Whether he tastes her come, feels her tighten along his fingers and roll her hips down to crush herself onto him more and more, Andy doesn't stop.

"Babe, let me–" but her voice cracks and she can't help but take a fistful of blanket in one hand, breast in the other.

Her shirt isn't even off. She realizes it, and it's a little thing, but it's not even off yet but her hands are obsessed with toying with her own nipple, Andy's mouth feverish but slowing his pace to softly kiss her clit and lick her again. His tongue, oh the creeping fire it brought her. Up along, tasting the freshly soaked orgasm along his lips once more and along hers; Down and to her core, threatening to thrust into her where his fingers bore not long ago, two pointing fingertips up and into where her whole brain collapses and her body gives in entirely.

"Babe… Andy," she nearly howls, but Andy doesn't have the space to say anything.

Andy crawls her to the edge again, ending her perilous steps with a shove when he growls against her cunt and pushes her legs up and against her chest. It pushes her hands out of the way, but she feels so bare, so open and taken by him, that she can't help but yelp. Tongue, lips, and even the tiniest, perfect sensation of sharpness breaks her resolve before it's over again.

And when he returns, he's breathless but not nearly as beat as she is. Soft, sensitive, and burning up with the desire to feel him against her in some way, April quickly reaches between them to feel him perfectly stiff, hard against his pants.

"No, babe. It's all about you," he promises with a tender look.

"Andy, you still don't get it do you?" she asks with a laugh before pushing him to a standing position.

"W-What?" he asks, her hands always cold and wrapping fists around his cock.

"You act like this isn't still what I wanna do," she says before taking his head into her mouth. Suckling, his legs visibly weaken at the wetness and pressure along the crown of him. "Don't act like I hate sucking dick."

"Fuck," he mutters, the first real word he's said that wasn't muffled by her pussy. The thought alone pushes her forward, takes him back into her mouth until she's gasped on his shaft, back of her tongue caking him in saliva.

Before she can say another word, April takes his full length back to her throat and out again and Andy lifts her up by her shoulders and sits himself down. Thinking that he wanted a better view down her shirt or something weird, she pulls it off and goes to kneel.

"No, c'mere," he gestures and April walks to the side of the bed. Sitting on her knees, Andy takes her waist and lifts her up, sets her down on his chest and makes a spinning motion with his fingers. "C'mon, may as well both get super into it."

"Babe, you've got the best ideas in the whole world," she mutters, leaning down to kiss his forehead before getting on hands and knees to get into position.

It takes no more than a few moments for Andy pull her down into another breathless display of splendid agony. She rides his face for a moment, fist stilled around his cock with idle strokes when she remembers, and basks in the flex of his tongue and upward arc to it that devastates her in the same way as before.

"Fuck, babe... so glad we're this - ugh - so awesome..." she says, stringing together nonsense until she leans down and engulfs the whole of his dick in her mouth.

She bobs forcefully, choking him down roughly; she wants to taste every inch of him at the same pace he refuses to leave her.

There was so much to this for her. The way he gripped her body, spread her wide open with his tongue and hands, nudged his thumbs along her entire body where they would go, and shook and thrust upward into her mouth. His whole body was alive, eager to please and take, and Andy incarnate.

It was delicious, this feeling of being back as they were. It's where they belong, she realizes. Arguing will happen, and it's okay so long as it ends this very same way. That's not quite the exact thought in her head at that moment, pussy full of tongue and mouth stuffed, but she definitely has something along those lines.

Somewhere between the groans, mouths filled, April curls her fingers along his balls and bears him deepest he'll find her throat. She gags a little, letting spit trail down him and come that follows and runs along her tongue hot and welcome run rivulets down her lips and along his shaft, and a few moments later, his exhalation of lust feeds her own orgasm. It sends her flying after a slow crawl up the cliff, a lightning strike searing her whole body one last time when he spreads her, finds room for two fingers and a tongue moving upward and upward until-

Until their bodies lie sprawling in a heap on the bed, come still yet to be cleaned from either of their mouths and bodies.

"Apology accepted," April breathes against his leg a moment later, giving wet kisses to him. Andy just laughs, and laughs, and it grows like a wildfire and spreads to her just as quickly.