“You need to keep your head down.” Billy pushes your head forward so you aren’t able to watch the movie.
“But this is the best part.” You whine.
He doesn’t say anything but you just know he’s mocking you while you can’t see him. You drop your head backwards to glare at him and he groans.
“What’s it gonna take for you to stop moving?”
“Pizza from that place downtown.”
He pops you with the comb.
“Hey!”
“I’m doing you a favor and you’re trying to extort me?”
“I’m hungry and tired.” You whine.
“Don’t know how you’re tired, you haven’t done any damn work.” Even in his irritation he’s gentle as he goes back to combing and parting your hair.
“Holding your neck still hurts. Also, you don’t get to complain because you offered to do my hair.”
“That’s because you don’t do it right.” He scoffs.
“Excuse me? I don’t do my hair right?”
“You’re too rough. You detangle like you’re in a saw trap and your time is running out.”
“Fuck you.” You can’t stop yourself from laughing.
“Just ripping your hair to shreds.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “All the new growth gone with the wind.”
“Racist movie references? In my house, Billy?”
He pops you with the comb again, “Our house. I had to walk through Ikea for hours with you while you looked for fucking lamps and cute cutlery. I earned that our.”
You giggle and reach for one of his hands, ignoring his protests to sit still for God’s sake. He stops whining when you press soft kisses to his knuckles. You wish you could see his expression fall into that soft pleasure he feels whenever you do something particularly sweet.
“You took that trip like a real trooper, killer.”
“Mhm.” He tilts your head back and just stares at you. You smile at the look in his eyes and kiss his knuckles again just to watch him melt.
He shakes his head, smirking. He knows that you know exactly what you do to him. Still, you look at him with your big brown eyes acting innocent as can be. He leans forward and kisses you long and slow. Heat curls in your gut as his hand drifts to your neck, holding you still and secure. When he pulls away you’re breathless.
“I’ll call the pizza place. Watch this part of the movie and when I come back I don’t want to hear anymore of your whining.” He let’s you go and you want to call him right back and tell him to finish what he started with that kiss. But you’re starving so you let him go, dragging your hand across his hip as he walks by you.
“Love you baby!” You call after him.
“Yeah, yeah whatever.” You start your familiar countdown: 1, 2, 3- “Love you too.”
