“My ankle hurts too much to move. So you gotta kiss me.” Rikiya’s half hanging over me, fire in his eyes, and he rasps this at me. His ankle cast is at a slightly awkward angle, so we can’t be like this for long. I know he’s just teasing me to see what I will do, but two can play this sort of game.
My chin is trapped between his forefinger and thumb so I can’t fully look down. My eyes drift down to the lushness of his lips, soft puffs of air escaping from between. “All right. If I absolutely have to,” I murmur.
The right corner of his lips turn up just ever so slightly. “Yep. You absolutely have to.” I take him up on his sweet offer and gently press my lips to his. He tilts his slightly more and his teeth lightly graze my bottom lip as he kisses me back. The relief I had been feeling heats up as my shock finishes wearing off.
He really is okay. He’s here. I feel the heat from his body, the indentation of his arm into the mattress besides me, the brush of his chest against my arm. He’s hurt, but he’s alive. My lips part with a gasp of realization and he quickly slips his tongue between.
That opening though, as our kisses heat up, I gradually take control of the kiss. Exploring the softness of his lips, the edges of his teeth, the warmth inside him and every inch of his mouth, I taste him greedily. He starts to pull back a little, but I’m not done. My arm snakes lightly around his torso; I already know that the bruises are confined to his leg, but still I’m gentle as I can manage. His rolling back pulls me along with him and my weight is slightly on top of him for a change. I do keep myself propped up a little to make sure I don’t stress him, but it is enough to feel comforting.
I move slightly and he groans, “Baby, we are going to have to end this here. It really is torture to not be able to take this further.”
“Oh no!” I gasp. “Did I hit your ankle? Twist you in a bad way?” The last thing I want to do is cause him more pain, but I know I was getting carried away.
“N-no. But unless you are going to take responsibility…” I glance down the line of his torso to notice his beat up jeans are much tighter than usual.
I bite my bottom lip in quick contemplation and make a snap decision. Carefully, I pull back. He looks so sad even though he was the one that said we should call a stop to this. So much fire reflected back at me, I feel it deep within the pit of my belly too. I can’t leave him like this.
“Of course. I am here to take care of you after all.” My fingers slide under the edge of his shirt and brush his firm abs as I start to push it upwards. Rikiya, brow scrunched in confusion, still moves to comply and starts taking off his shirt.
When I see him complying, I pull back and firmly state, “You, Mister. Stay right there.”
“What on earth…”
“You are not going to voluntarily tell me what hurts and what doesn’t,” I shout back to him as I scurry off to the bathroom. “So I am going to have to do an inspection, and while I’m doing that,” I quickly find what I’m looking for and hurry back to his side, “I am going to carefully rub you down with,” I flash the tube, “arnica so the bruises heal faster. And then I’m going to help you get dressed in your pajama pants.” I’m so thankful I knew where the arnica was kept after the tumble I took a week ago. The pants were just a lucky find folded on top of his dryer. “Because I am not going to spend weeks hurting you when I hug you.”
That is when look past his face and I notice his bare chest; my breath hitches for a second before I remember what I’m there to do. He starts laughing. “You can barely handle looking at the top of me. How are you going to do an ‘inspection’?”
Feeling the flush creep across my face, I screw on the most determined look, “No back talk to Nurse _______, Mr Mononobe.” I can’t keep the mirth from my eyes, nor can he but he plays along as straight as he can manage, stifling his laughter as best he can.
“Yes ma’am.” At that point my fingers start fumbling with the button of the top of his jeans. Still, he clearly has not figured out that I mean as he is not helping. One more stern look directly in his eyes though with my hands at the top of his jeans, and he reluctantly starts squirming around as little as he can to give me enough room to gingerly pull them off.
That’s when I see above the cast all the abrasions. And the giant bruise that is his thigh. I knew he was downplaying it all. His forearm is also bruised, probably from when he landed. I want to be angry with him for downplaying things, but mostly I’m just sad to see my beautiful boyfriend so battered. I quickly check the other side of his body, and with my off-hand rub a light amount of cream on the inside of his opposing ankle. It must have bounced with the skid.
I look him in the eye, and he looks sufficiently contrite, so I don’t say anything, but just get to work, starting with right above his cast. Right before I rub in any cream, I kiss like feathers falling up his leg. I keep my touch gentle and smooth as I work the cream into his skin, keenly aware of every gasp and sigh. “Sweetheart, please, don’t look so sad. It’s okay.”
I can’t look back at him at the moment because I know I’ll start crying again if I do. “I know it’s okay. I just wish I could do more,” I whisper. That’s as much as I can say without choking on my words. The minty pine scent of the cream wafts past my nose with each stroke, and is smells like comfort. Kiss and massage, kiss and massage, lips and fingers work their way up his outer and then inner upper thigh.
“You are going far above and beyond girlfriend duty, ________,” he groans. As I meander towards his groin, I can tell the erection that had been flagging when I started my journey up his body is starting to grow stronger again. Kiss and massage. He raggedly breathes, “I take it back, you’re killing me here, baby. Please. Mercy.” His abs tense and he rocks up on his elbows to look at me.
His breath holds when I shove the top of his boxers down and his length peeks out the top. That is when the devilish look in my eye returns. I look back up at him, his eyes wide as though he can barely believe what I’m doing. Honestly, I can barely believe it myself, but I want to give him something to feel good about if it’s at all possible. Looking back down, I softly place a kiss on the very tip and watch as it visibly gets harder, I look back at him, and see his eyes have narrowed and he is struggling to not pant with the teasing.
I’m watching him very carefully now, tube of cream tossed to the side so I can focus in front of me. It’s really quite fascinating how the skin moves as blood flows in, flows out. I can even see his heartbeat, and kiss the skin right above his pulse. I kneel carefully to his uninjured side, and place myself so I use my dominant hand to aid.
It has been a few years, so I’m fascinated acquainting myself with his desire in front of me. As I place more wet kisses along his length, a strangled sound escapes his throat. I glance up and it’s clear he is not in pain but pleasure with his head thrown back and looking at the ceiling.
Redoubling my efforts, I take his tip into my mouth and swirl my tongue around the head, producing a positively lewd moan from him. Slightly salty, slightly bitter, but not unpleasant. I grip his shaft and start to gently swallow a little more between my lips. Fisting the sheets with one hand, he leans a little and slides the other up my skirt and under my panties to start petting me as well. The more I take in, the more insistent his petting, the wetter I’m getting.
My own moan escapes my lips to be echoed by his from the vibrations against his member. Hips rocking lightly, I keep in tune with his rhythm. Building, teasing, building, his breathing is heavy and I can feel the tension pool within me. My hand works in a pattern as synchronized as slightly unpredictable and it sounds like he might be getting close. I whine with want trying to get him to touch the one spot that would make me unravel, but he is relentless in his avoidance.
Just as his groans get more insistent, his cock starts twitching, and he presses right in the right spot and I soar. Bucking against his hand, I swallow as much of his cock as I can manage while clenching around his fingers. I start to come down and I think I hear an “I’m…” so I brace myself. With a throaty grunt he spills into my mouth, bitter and slick. I hold him within me until it seems his tremors mostly subside. I swallow quickly so as I clear my mouth, and lean back to wipe my face.
That’s when I look back at him to see him slipping his fingers between his lips with a positively evil look. Carefully placing him back within his boxers, I then rearrange myself to curl up next to his side and bury my face in his chest. It’s a little late for embarrassment, but when has that ever stopped me?
His pants slow, even though his heart rate is still fast beneath my ear. “You.”
My voice muffles into his pec, “Responsible enough?” I keep my arm still around his abs, not quite clinging to him, but still reaffirming his solidness to ground me in the here and now.
Slightly giddy laughter tumbles over me with his fingers wrapped in my hair. “Y-yeah. I-I’d say so. That was fantastic.”
“I just wanted you to have a moment of feeling good after all you’ve been through today.” I look back up at him, and a sort of incredulous astonishment dashes across his face.
“You are going to spoil me, aren’t you.”
“Absolutely.” I don’t want to get up, but I untangle myself anyway, and slip away to the kitchen to grab a cup of water. Taking a quick drink, I clear my mouth, and refill the cup for him. I swipe the bottle of pain pills they sent home with him and pad back over to the bed with his dose in my other hand. “Come on, just a little more. You need to take your next dose so the pain doesn’t break through. And then I’ll get out of your way.”
All business again, and I can see he’s confused, but docile. He takes the pills from me and swallows them dry, then taking a swig of the water, and laying back down. I put everything on the nightstand, and grab the arnica quickly to put it there too. About to grab his pants to try to wrestle him into them, he grabs my hand and makes me look at him with a soft “_______.”
He looks exhausted now. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him. “I don’t need pajamas tonight. Too tired. Could you just…” he takes a pause to breathe, looking like he’s convincing himself to finish the thought. “Could you just cuddle with me a little before you leave? Just until I fall asleep? I’m real tired all the sudden.”
I nod and curl back up next to him. Actually, tired is a good word to describe me now that any reserve of nervous energy I had had has been expended. His fingers intertwine back in my hair again, his arm hugging me close. “You know you’re amazing, right?” The drowsy is rapidly taking over my poor boyfriend.
“Something like that,” I mumble. As the sound of his breathing slows and I can tell he has for the most part drifted off to sleep, I whisper, “I love you.” His rough cheek nuzzles my hair lightly.
I can stay a little longer, right? I’ll get up in a few minutes. I just don’t want to leave his side yet. Just let me feel, he’s really still here with me. The chaos of today stills into the sound of our breaths intermingling and I drift next to him for a moment.