A/N: Wrote this a few months ago when I was bed ridden with cramps.
Sometimes I hate being female...
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"Andy!" He called out into her condo when he stepped through the door. Keys had been to given to him shortly after they finally decided to put the past behind them and move forward. And he had been hesitant at first, of how much that meant, but he's been texting her all morning since she called in sick, and she was insistent that there was nothing he could do. When he finally got to his lunch, he took off for her place immediately.
"I'm in bed." She called back, not that surprised that he was taking advantage of the key.
She heard him walk straight to her, lingering for only a couple of beats in her living room, probably gawking at the mess she made earlier.
"Hey," He says, sounding somewhat relieved when he saw her, like maybe he thought she may have died of tuberculosis in those five seconds. "You don't look too bad."
She gives him an unimpressed face, warning him if he tries to get her out of bed and to work, she'll cut off a vital part of his male anatomy.
"I have cramps Sam. I'm not ill." She spits, thinking she doesn't exactly look great though. Most of the morning her face was twisted and contorting according to where the pain was popping up.
Still, he comes and sits next to her on the bed, and leans down to kiss her forehead, pull her bangs away from her face.
"You're sure you can't come to work?"
"Let me break this down for you Sam. These cramps? It's like getting sucker punched every two minutes. It can only be relieved with a couple of painkillers and a heating pad." She says, slowly, condescendingly, letting him know that he needs to back the hell off.
He just nods, and stands, and she thinks maybe he's decided to leave her in peace, but then she hears the rustling of a plastic bag coming from the living room.
"I stopped and picked up some food. Do you want a sandwich or soup first?" He calls, messing around in her kitchen again, opening cupboards. She hears him dig around for a pot, no doubt to keep the soup warm.
"Sandwich. And Tylenol please!"
So he ate with her, in her bed, against his argument that she'd get crumbs all over the place. But every time she tried to stand and walk around, she winced and cringed in pain, giving him no choice but to sit with her. There was nothing he could do to make her feel better.
Eventually he had to go back to work, but promised he'd be back in just a little while, with a surprise. She was in and out after that. She thought about how much she regretted not putting a TV in her room like Sam had suggested not three nights ago. He has this damn knack for bringing things up right before they're relevant. He's some kind of savant. But she settles for flipping through Cosmo. She never used to keep it around, but when she went grocery shopping last week, one article definitely stood out to her. 'Kama Sutra: Bad Girl' Edition. Turned out it wasn't super useful. One look at most of the positions and she was cringing at the thought of the amount of stretching she'd have to do first.
Didn't even bother sharing this one with Sam. About halfway through she fell asleep again, magazine fallen next to her.
She didn't wake up again until Sam returned, and he wasn't the one to wake her. He was sitting next to her, magazine in his lap, staring fascinated at the page she had open before, the Kama Sutra article.
She groans, and then he's not so quiet about his laughter, knowing she's awake.
"Nips ahoy?" He laughs shamelessly. She grabs the magazine from him, wincing when she had to sit up, then threw it halfway across the room.
"Shut up." She grumbles, lying back down. He smiles at her, no smirk anywhere to be found, he just leans down and kisses her cheek. Tries for her lips, but she presses them together and turns her head so it's all he has.
"I got you a present." He says, hoping she'll turn back to him for that, at least. When she does roll back his way, her lips are let go, and he pecks her quickly before she can react.
She sticks out her tongue after he pulls back far enough, and he just keeps on smiling at her. He loves it when she's a little ridiculous. Well, not usually. Most of the time it's annoying as hell, but today he missed her. He didn't see her yesterday either, and he's been needing his fix of her antics.
"What is it?" She asks sharply, eyebrows still furrowed, not charmed by his dimples yet at all.
"A vibrating heating pad." He announces proudly, reaching down to the bag at his feet to pull it out for her.
She gets this big grin of what he would label relief, and her eyes close a little bit more in the anticipation of that relief. She ends up laying there looking a little drunk. He moves off the bed and crouches down by her table, and plugs in the pad, before handing it over to her.
"I'm sorry I was such a grump." She says, pulling him back to where she is, ready to offer him a real kiss.
"S'okay." He says, before leaning in for an open mouthed kiss. Those little pornographic figures in that magazine were putting ideas in his head, and he knew she wouldn't be moving tonight, but he still needed... something.
She hummed against his lips, really appreciating him right now, and knowing that he had energy he needed to relieve. How he was going to manage she had no idea. He'd have to do all the work.
His tongue was seriously aggressive tonight, battling for dominance, not quite wanting her to reciprocate the way he usually does, and manages to climb on top of her, hovering, trying not to cause her any pain. But in a moment of lust, he brings his hips down, where he's settled above her open thighs, and she winces a little, biting his tongue.
He pulls away, and sits back on his haunches, and runs a hand over his face.
"So, I'm going to need a shower." He admits, before rewarding her one last brief kiss.
"Me too." She mumbles as he walks off into her bathroom. Here come the grumps again.