Disclaimer: For the love of Tim Riggins, none of it is mine.
Summary: You're dreaming that Tim's home and you're making up for all the time that has been lost since he's been away.
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03. There's Always Tomorrow
You're dreaming that Tim's home and you're making up for all the time that has been lost since he's been away. When the bed dips you think it's part of your dream. A hand curls around your waist and again you sink deeper into your dream state. Your nightgown slips up, hard, callused hands moving beneath it and over your skin. The hand closes over your breast and you moan, arching up.
Then there's lips on yours, fingers in your hair, a hard body pressing you deeper into the mattress. Your eyes snap open and there's Tim and he's not a figment of your imagination. Instead of barreling him with questions, you surrender your body to him as you've done so many times before.
Your eyes meet, the two of you smiling at one another. "You're home," you breathe out, almost unable to believe it.
You push his hair out of his face. "We're out of the playoffs," he says, fingers gently brushing your cheek. "Coach wanted me to wait until the weekend before I came home but I was ready to get back to you and Michael."
Your arms circle his neck, pulling him closer, deeper. "I'm glad that you're back." You move against him and he groans, teeth grinding.
He says nothing, just pushes up your nightgown, bunching the material just below your breasts. He begins kissing your stomach, nipping your skin with his teeth in spots where he knows you're ticklish.
Tim pushes your legs apart, his kisses changing direction. Your breath hitches in anticipation, but just as he settles between your legs, wailing comes over the baby monitor. Tim's head falls onto your stomach, the both of your expelling frustrated sighs. It wasn't the first time you'd been interrupted by Michael and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But just this once you were hoping he'd sleep through the night. You missed your husband and was hoping to show him just how much.
Unfortunately you weren't that lucky. And you weren't getting lucky.
Tim scrambles out of bed before you can even sit up. "I'll get him," he tells you before crossing the hall to Michael's nursery.
You push your nightgown back down and reach for the glass of water that you keep on the nightstand. You take a sip and are setting the glass back down on the coaster when Tim waltzes back into the room a few moments later, toting Michael. He climbs back into bed, settling Michael between the two of you. You press a kiss your son's cheek, watching as he curls up against Tim. His eyes close once more, Tim's shirt bunched in his tiny fist.
You glance over at Tim who gives you a tight smile and says, "There's always tomorrow night."
You lean over Michael to steal a kiss from your husband. You exchange I love you's and bid one another goodnight before settling on your respective sides of the bed. You both lay facing Michael, your legs entwined as you close your eyes and welcome sleep, your son nestled between you.