Dating a wrestler came with some rather unique challenges. You accepted that. Adam had been upfront with you from the moment you met about what he did for a living and how his day-to-day was nothing like yours. You understood and managed to get along just fine with it.
Usually.
Sometimes though, you hated the lifestyle your boyfriend led. You hated the times when you had to go solo to events, or sleep alone. You hated the nights when you'd come home from work and all you wanted was a hug from him, and he wasn't there. It really bothered you during the nicer weather months, when weekends that could have been spent exploring and going places, were instead spent trying to pass time with friends and family. You loved the people in your life, but his presence was always missed.
Of course, you never told Adam any of this entirely. You didn't want to be that girlfriend, the unsupportive, nagging one. You also weren't the greatest at telling people your feelings directly. Your preferred method of communication was sarcasm and jokes, with underlying meaning that had to be found.
A previous boyfriend had broken up with you because of your inability to say what you truly felt at all times, claiming your sarcasm was a 'defense mechanism'. You weren't sorry that you weren't an overemotional, soft-hearted whiner, like that boyfriend had been. It was nice to tell people you liked them and cared about them sometimes, but it didn't need to be an all-the-time affair.
Thankfully, Adam rolled with your style just fine. He always seemed to understand what you meant and how you felt, even without all the words. He understood that you wanting that hug from him, and only him, at the end of the day was because he was your person.
At the current moment, your person was taking a shower. Adam had returned back to America from Japan the day before, and had come straight to your place. He was only with you for today, and then had to leave in the morning again for Ring of Honor shows.
You'd taken it upon yourself, like a doting girlfriend, to wash his clothes for him.
And then promptly put them somewhere he couldn't find them.
Based on the sounds you were hearing, of Adam coming out of the bathroom, going to the laundry area, and the bedroom, you guessed he had figured that part out.
"Where did you put my clothes?"
"Don't know what you're talking about," you replied from the couch, casually flipping through the magazine in your hands. You could feel Adam's less-than-believing, less-than-amused stare on you.
"I'm serious," he said. "Where did you put my clothes?"
"Have you checked Narnia?"
"You're not being cute right now," Adam stated.
"Not trying to be," you countered, continuing to scan the glossy pages.
"Just…why have you hidden my clothes? Can you at least tell me that?"
"So you can't leave," you answered, as though it was such an obvious explanation you were sad he hadn't gotten it.
"…you're a psychopath."
"I prefer creative," you corrected, finally glancing over towards him. You found him standing in just basketball shorts, arms crossed over his bare chest.
"You realize I can just drive to my place and get more stuff, right?"
"Can't get more wrestling gear though."
"You hid that too?!" You just grinned cheekily at him, before looking back down to the item in your hands. "Why are you even hiding my things today? I'm not going anywhere today."
"Planning ahead."
"I thought we were gonna go out today? Do you expect me to go out like this?"
"That'll be your decision. Far be it for me to tell you what to wear," you responded, struggling to hold back the smirk that wanted to show on your face. This exchange was amusing you far too much probably. A moment later, Adam had plopped down beside you on the couch, immediately taking your magazine and throwing it to the floor.
"Dude! What gives!"
"You think you're soooo clever," he determined, as you turned to meet his eyes. "But you're not gonna win this round."
"Oh really?"
"Really," Adam confirmed, before grabbing your face and pulling you into a bruising kiss. It took only a second for you to reciprocate, your little game forgotten. You moved with Adam, as he gently guided you to lay on your back on the couch, positioning himself above you. The kiss continued, until he broke it, ghosting his lips down over your neck.
"There's plenty of things I don't need clothes for," he pointed out, as he sat back on his knees, his hands going to the hem of your shirt, pushing it upwards. "And neither do you."
"What about food?" you inquired, as you lifted your arms, allowing Adam to remove your shirt, leaving your torso naked.
"God bless delivery."
"What happened to going to your place and just getting more clothes?" Adam's grin was predatory at best, as he set his hands against the band of your sweatpants.
"By the time I'm done with you, you'll be telling me where my stuff is, no problem," he assured you. Your heart literally skipped a beat.
"Challenge accepted," you decided, reaching up and pulling him down to meet you in a deep kiss.
It seemed like your plans were set for the day, and you definitely had no complaints. However, you were determined to do your best to win this strange competition you'd found yourself in with Adam. But you had a feeling, even if you lost, you'd still be a winner.