Author's Note: Full transparency: I pulled together a list of randomly generated words but I am not using all of them and they are not in order.
At this point, I kind of feel like the senior class of fanfictioners… like, I may be slightly breaking the rules but I don't really care XD.
"And the moral of the story is," Zari sighed as she sat perched on the edge of the tub, rubbing John's sweat-soaked back, "don't leave home for two weeks and then expect the leftovers in your fridge to still be edible."
"You may have the right idea there, love," John groaned, forehead pressed onto the lip of the toilet. "In my defense, I thought the takeout had belonged to Gary, and he was just here last night."
He groaned, lurching forward and gagging up a thin stream of bile. Zari cringed and breathed through her mouth, staring up at the ceiling as she continued to rub his back.
"You don't have to stay," John rasped, wiping the back of his mouth on his sleeve and letting his head drop again. "I know that gross isn't really your… thing."
"Don't be ridiculous," Zari huffed. She moved her hand up to run her fingers through the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. "Zari Tarazi may be many things, but she is not a fair-weather friend. Girlfriend. Whatever."
"It scares me a little when you refer to yourself in the third person," John mumbled, but his lips were quirking.
Zari checked her watch. "Are we planning on spending much longer in here?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably on the edge of the tub. "Because if so, I'm going to go get a cushion. There's no need for both of us to suffer."
"Nah, nah, I think I'm done," John groaned, leaning back against her knees and tipping his head up to gaze blearily at her. "Thanks for sticking around, love."
Zari sighed, bending over and kissing him on the forehead. "Let's get you in bed. And don't you dare make that into an innuendo."
He grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it, love."