Johnny MacTavish - Missed You

Johnny MacTavish had been home for one hour and fourteen minutes, and in that time, he’d managed to accomplish precisely three things. He’d taken off his boots, eaten half a sandwich straight from the fridge, and attached himself to his wife with the determination of a man who’d been deprived of physical affection for six very long weeks.

His deployment bag was still sitting in the hallway, exactly where he’d abandoned it upon arriving home. His jacket hung over the banister, his keys were somewhere in the living room, and the cup of tea he’d made nearly forty minutes ago had long since gone cold. None of these things particularly concerned him. As far as Johnny was concerned, he’d already completed the most important task of the day: getting home to his wife. Unfortunately for her, he’d apparently decided that personal space was something they could revisit tomorrow.

He’d started reasonably enough. A long hug at the front door that quickly turned into him crowding her against the wall, one thigh slotted between hers while he kissed her deep and filthy, tongue sliding against hers until she was gripping the front of his shirt. He’d ground against her once, slow and deliberate, letting her feel how hard he already was just from having her in his arms again, before pulling back with a low, satisfied sound.

Several more enthusiastic kisses followed, along with a heartfelt declaration that he’d missed her more than he could possibly explain. Then he’d followed her into the kitchen, where he’d wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder while she went about her business. When she’d moved to another part of the house, he’d followed. When she’d stopped, he’d stopped. At one point, he’d briefly wandered off to find something to eat, only to return less than two minutes later and resume his position as though he’d never left.

Now, he was standing behind her in the kitchen again, his broad chest pressed comfortably against her back, both arms wrapped around her middle and his cheek resting against the side of her head. One hand had drifted lower, palm cupping the soft curve of her stomach before sliding down to rest possessively over the front of her jeans, fingers flexing.

“Y’know,” he murmured, watching the kitchen over her shoulder, “I’ve been thinking.” He paused to press a kiss against her temple, then nuzzled lower to drag his mouth along the side of her neck, teeth scraping lightly. “Think we ought tae spend more time together.”

It was a remarkable suggestion, considering he’d spent the last seventy-four minutes following her around like an extremely affectionate shadow. “Aye, I know what you’re thinking. Johnny, we’ve been together all afternoon. But that’s no’ the point, is it?” He gave her waist a gentle squeeze, then rolled his hips forward so she could feel the thick length of him pressing against her arse through their clothes. “I’ve been away six weeks. That’s forty-two days. Reckon I’ve got a fair bit of catching up tae do.”

He considered this for a moment before adding, “Actually, I’ve worked it out. If I give ye one kiss for every day I’ve been away, that’s forty-two kisses. And that’s just the minimum. Doesn’t account for birthdays, weekends or emotional damages.” Johnny nodded solemnly, as though presenting the findings of an important investigation, even as he slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt to splay warm fingers across bare skin. “Very serious business, marriage.”

He turned his head and pressed another kiss against her cheek, then lower, open-mouthed against her jaw. “Forty-three. That’s one extra, just because I can.” His hand drifted higher, thumb brushing the underside of her breast before he cupped it fully, squeezing with a quiet, appreciative groan.

His laughter was warm and unrestrained, the sound filling the kitchen as he settled against her again, still idly fondling her. He’d always been physically affectionate, even before they were married. Johnny was the sort of man who instinctively reached for her hand in a crowd, draped himself across her lap during films and considered a quick kiss an entirely appropriate interruption to almost any conversation. But six weeks away had apparently convinced him that he needed to make up for every moment he’d spent without her, and he was taking the responsibility very seriously. Right now that looked like grinding the hard ridge of his cock against her in slow, lazy circles while he mouthed at her neck.

“Price asked what I was planning tae do when I got back,” Johnny continued conversationally, his thumb moving idly against her waist while his other hand stayed under her shirt, pinching and rolling a nipple until it peaked. “Told him I was gonna spend the first day with ma wife. Nice and quiet, just the two of us.” He paused, looking thoughtful, hips still rocking. “Then Ghost said I’d probably have ye sick of me before dinner. Cheeky bastard.”

Johnny scoffed, although there was unmistakable amusement in his voice. “Imagine saying that about me. Me! I’m delightful company.” He shifted slightly to catch her eye, giving her breast another deliberate squeeze. “Am I no’ delightful company, bonnie? Careful how ye answer that. I’ve got six weeks’ worth of complaints prepared, and I’m no’ afraid tae use them.”

He laughed again, then loosened his arms enough to let her move freely, although he made absolutely no attempt to wander off and occupy himself elsewhere. The truth was that Johnny had missed this more than he’d expected. He’d missed hearing the familiar sounds of their home, the television playing in another room, the kettle boiling, the quiet conversations about what they should have for dinner.

He’d missed the comfort of knowing she was nearby, even when they were doing completely different things. Most of all, he’d missed being able to reach out and touch her without having to count down the days until he could do it again—missed the warm weight of her tits in his hands, the way she went soft when he pressed his cock against her, the little noises she made when he got his mouth on her.

During deployment, he’d thought about the big things. Coming home, seeing her face, kissing her for the first time in weeks. But now that he was here, he was discovering that the little things mattered just as much. Standing in their kitchen together, listening to her talk about her day, feeling the familiar weight of his wedding ring against his finger while he palmed her through her jeans. It was ordinary, and Johnny had absolutely no intention of taking it for granted.

“Missed this,” he admitted quietly, his earlier teasing giving way to something softer as he finally slipped his hand down the front of her jeans, past the waistband of her underwear to cup her properly. His fingers found her already warm and slick, and he exhaled a low, pleased sound against her hair. “Just being here wi’ ye. Don’t even care what we’re doing.” He rested his forehead briefly against the side of her head, middle finger stroking slow circles over her clit. “Could spend the whole evening watching ye sort the bloody cutlery drawer, and I’d still be happy.”

He considered that statement for a moment, still touching her. “Well, maybe no’ the whole evening. I’d probably get bored after twenty minutes and start rearranging things tae annoy ye.” His mouth curved into a grin as he eased one finger inside her, then a second, curling them. “Then ye’d tell me off, and I’d have tae apologise with a kiss. See? Perfect system.”

Johnny straightened slightly, giving her enough room to turn towards him if she wanted, though he kept his hand where it was, working her in slow, deep strokes. His dark hair was still untidy from travelling, and the fitted black T-shirt he’d arrived home in had acquired several creases from his enthusiastic attempts to get comfortable. He looked tired around the eyes, but there was a contentment about him that hadn’t been there when he’d first walked through the door.

“Was gonna unpack, by the way,” he said, glancing towards the hallway, voice a little rougher now. “Had every intention of doing it. Proper responsible adult, me.” He gave a small shrug, thumb still circling her clit while his fingers pumped. “Then I saw ye, and that was the end of that.”

His smile softened as he looked at his wife. “Christ, bonnie. Six weeks without ye, and now I cannae even convince myself tae go upstairs for five minutes.” For once, he didn’t immediately follow the admission with another joke. He simply looked at her, the affection in his expression unguarded and entirely genuine, even as he fucked her slowly on his fingers. “Love ye,” he said. “Really, really love ye.” He reached for her hand with his free one, brushing his thumb across her wedding ring before lifting her fingers to his lips. “And I’m glad I’m home.”

The tenderness lasted until his stomach gave a particularly loud growl. Johnny glanced down, visibly offended, though he didn’t stop moving his hand. “Oh, shut up. You’ve had a sandwich.” He looked back towards his wife with an expression of exaggerated disappointment. “Honestly. Can’t take me anywhere.”

He laughed, shaking his head before his attention returned to her, fingers curling deliberately. “Right, here’s what I’m thinking. We order something for dinner, find something rubbish on the telly, and I spend the rest of the night making up for lost time. Properly. On the sofa, against the wall, bent over the kitchen table if ye want—I’ve been thinking about all of it.”

He paused, then raised a finger, still buried two knuckles deep inside her. “One condition, though.” Johnny’s eyes brightened with mischief as he leaned a little closer, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You’re no’ allowed tae sit at the other end of the sofa. That’s practically long-distance at this point, and I’ve had quite enough of that.”

He chuckled at his own joke, then opened his arms in invitation, finally easing his fingers free and bringing them up so he could suck them clean, eyes on hers. “C’mere, hen. Just one more cuddle.” His grin widened as he reconsidered his offer, already tugging her closer by the hips so he could grind against her again. “Alright, that’s a lie. It’ll no’ be just one. But ye married me, bonnie. Surely ye knew what ye were signing up for?”

Johnny MacTavish had been home for one hour and fourteen minutes, and in that time, he’d managed to accomplish precisely three things. He’d taken off his boots, eaten half a sandwich straight from the fridge, and attached himself to his husband with the determination of a man who’d been deprived of physical affection for six very long weeks.

His deployment bag was still sitting in the hallway, exactly where he’d abandoned it upon arriving home. His jacket hung over the banister, his keys were somewhere in the living room, and the cup of tea he’d made nearly forty minutes ago had long since gone cold. None of these things particularly concerned him. As far as Johnny was concerned, he’d already completed the most important task of the day: getting home to his husband. Unfortunately for him, he’d apparently decided that personal space was something they could revisit tomorrow.

He’d started reasonably enough. A long hug at the front door that quickly turned into him crowding his husband against the wall, one thigh slotted between his while he kissed him deep and filthy, tongue sliding against his until his husband was gripping the front of his shirt. He’d ground against him once, slow and deliberate, letting him feel how hard he already was just from having him in his arms again, before pulling back with a low, satisfied sound.

Several more enthusiastic kisses followed, along with a heartfelt declaration that he’d missed him more than he could possibly explain. Then he’d followed him into the kitchen, where he’d wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his chin on his shoulder while he went about his business. When he’d moved to another part of the house, Johnny had followed. When he’d stopped, Johnny had stopped. At one point, he’d briefly wandered off to find something to eat, only to return less than two minutes later and resume his position as though he’d never left.

Now, he was standing behind his husband in the kitchen again, his broad chest pressed comfortably against his back, both arms wrapped around his middle and his cheek resting against the side of his head. One hand had drifted lower, palm cupping the firm muscle of his stomach before sliding down to rest possessively over the front of his jeans, fingers flexing.

“Y’know,” he murmured, watching the kitchen over his shoulder, “I’ve been thinking.” He paused to press a kiss against his temple, then nuzzled lower to drag his mouth along the side of his neck, teeth scraping lightly. “Think we ought tae spend more time together.”

It was a remarkable suggestion, considering he’d spent the last seventy-four minutes following his husband around like an extremely affectionate shadow. “Aye, I know what you’re thinking. Johnny, we’ve been together all afternoon. But that’s no’ the point, is it?” He gave his waist a gentle squeeze, then rolled his hips forward so he could feel the thick length of him pressing against his arse through their clothes. “I’ve been away six weeks. That’s forty-two days. Reckon I’ve got a fair bit of catching up tae do.”

He considered this for a moment before adding, “Actually, I’ve worked it out. If I give ye one kiss for every day I’ve been away, that’s forty-two kisses. And that’s just the minimum. Doesn’t account for birthdays, weekends or emotional damages.” Johnny nodded solemnly, as though presenting the findings of an important investigation, even as he slipped his hand under the hem of his husband’s shirt to splay warm fingers across bare skin. “Very serious business, marriage.”

He turned his head and pressed another kiss against his husband’s cheek, then lower, open-mouthed against his jaw. “Forty-three. That’s one extra, just because I can.” His hand drifted higher, thumb brushing across a nipple before he flattened his palm over the warm muscle of his chest, squeezing with a quiet, appreciative groan.

His laughter was warm and unrestrained, the sound filling the kitchen as he settled against him again, still idly stroking. He’d always been physically affectionate, even before they were married. Johnny was the sort of man who instinctively reached for his husband’s hand in a crowd, draped himself across his lap during films and considered a quick kiss an entirely appropriate interruption to almost any conversation. But six weeks away had apparently convinced him that he needed to make up for every moment he’d spent without him, and he was taking the responsibility very seriously. Right now that looked like grinding the hard ridge of his cock against his husband’s arse in slow, lazy circles while he mouthed at his neck.

“Price asked what I was planning tae do when I got back,” Johnny continued conversationally, his thumb moving idly against his husband’s waist while his other hand stayed under his shirt, pinching and rolling a nipple until it peaked. “Told him I was gonna spend the first day with ma husband. Nice and quiet, just the two of us.” He paused, looking thoughtful, hips still rocking. “Then Ghost said I’d probably have ye sick of me before dinner. Cheeky bastard.”

Johnny scoffed, although there was unmistakable amusement in his voice. “Imagine saying that about me. Me! I’m delightful company.” He shifted slightly to catch his husband’s eye, giving his chest another deliberate squeeze. “Am I no’ delightful company? Careful how ye answer that. I’ve got six weeks’ worth of complaints prepared, and I’m no’ afraid tae use them.”

He laughed again, then loosened his arms enough to let his husband move freely, although he made absolutely no attempt to wander off and occupy himself elsewhere. The truth was that Johnny had missed this more than he’d expected. He’d missed hearing the familiar sounds of their home, the television playing in another room, the kettle boiling, the quiet conversations about what they should have for dinner. He’d missed the comfort of knowing his husband was nearby, even when they were doing completely different things. Most of all, he’d missed being able to reach out and touch him without having to count down the days until he could do it again—missed the solid weight of him under his hands, the way he went soft when Johnny pressed his cock against him, the little noises he made when Johnny got his mouth on him.

During deployment, he’d thought about the big things. Coming home, seeing his husband’s face, kissing him for the first time in weeks. But now that he was here, he was discovering that the little things mattered just as much. Standing in their kitchen together, listening to him talk about his day, feeling the familiar weight of his wedding ring against his finger while he palmed him through his jeans. It was ordinary, and Johnny had absolutely no intention of taking it for granted.

“Missed this,” he admitted quietly, his earlier teasing giving way to something softer as he finally slipped his hand down the front of his husband’s jeans, past the waistband of his underwear to cup him properly. His fingers found him already warm and half-hard, and he exhaled a low, pleased sound against his hair. “Just being here wi’ ye. Don’t even care what we’re doing.” He rested his forehead briefly against the side of his husband’s head, wrapping his hand around the thickening length of him and stroking slow. “Could spend the whole evening watching ye sort the cutlery drawer, and I’d still be happy.”

He considered that statement for a moment, still touching him. “Well, maybe no’ the whole evening. I’d probably get bored after twenty minutes and start rearranging things tae annoy ye.” His mouth curved into a grin as he eased his hand lower, cupping his balls before sliding a finger back to press against his hole through the fabric. “Then ye’d tell me off, and I’d have tae apologise with a kiss. See? Perfect system.”

Johnny straightened slightly, giving his husband enough room to turn towards him if he wanted, though he kept his hand where it was, working him in slow, firm strokes. His dark hair was still untidy from travelling, and the fitted black T-shirt he’d arrived home in had acquired several creases from his enthusiastic attempts to get comfortable. He looked tired around the eyes, but there was a contentment about him that hadn’t been there when he’d first walked through the door.

“Was gonna unpack, by the way,” he said, glancing towards the hallway, voice a little rougher now. “Had every intention of doing it. Proper responsible adult, me.” He gave a small shrug, thumb still rubbing over the head of his husband’s cock while he stroked. “Then I saw ye, and that was the end of that.”

His smile softened as he looked at his husband. “Christ, love. Six weeks without ye, and now I cannae even convince myself tae go upstairs for five minutes.” For once, he didn’t immediately follow the admission with another joke. He simply looked at him, the affection in his expression unguarded and entirely genuine, even as he worked him slowly in his hand. “Love ye,” he said. “Really, really love ye.” He reached for his husband’s hand with his free one, brushing his thumb across his wedding ring before lifting his fingers to his lips. “And I’m glad I’m home.”

The tenderness lasted until his stomach gave a particularly loud growl. Johnny glanced down, visibly offended, though he didn’t stop moving his hand. “Oh, shut up. You’ve had a sandwich.” He looked back towards his husband with an expression of exaggerated disappointment. “Honestly. Cannae take me anywhere.”

He laughed, shaking his head before his attention returned to him, fingers curling deliberately around the hard length of him. “Right, here’s what I’m thinking. We order something for dinner, find something rubbish on the telly, and I spend the rest of the night making up for lost time. Properly. On the sofa, against the wall, bent over the kitchen table if ye want—I’ve been thinking about all of it.”

He paused, then raised a finger, still stroking him. “One condition, though.” Johnny’s eyes brightened with mischief as he leaned a little closer, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re no’ allowed tae sit at the other end of the sofa. That’s practically long-distance at this point, and I’ve had quite enough of that.”

He chuckled at his own joke, then opened his arms in invitation, finally easing his hand free and bringing his fingers up so he could suck them clean, eyes on his husband’s. “C’mere. Just one more cuddle.” His grin widened as he reconsidered his offer, already tugging him closer by the hips so he could grind against him again. “Alright, that’s a lie. It’ll no’ be just one. But ye married me, love. Surely ye knew what ye were signing up for?”

Johnny MacTavish had been home for one hour and fourteen minutes, and in that time, he’d managed to accomplish precisely three things. He’d taken off his boots, eaten half a sandwich straight from the fridge, and attached himself to his spouse with the determination of a man who’d been deprived of physical affection for six very long weeks.

His deployment bag was still sitting in the hallway, exactly where he’d abandoned it upon arriving home. His jacket hung over the banister, his keys were somewhere in the living room, and the cup of tea he’d made nearly forty minutes ago had long since gone cold. None of these things particularly concerned him. As far as Johnny was concerned, he’d already completed the most important task of the day: getting home to his spouse. Unfortunately for them, he’d apparently decided that personal space was something they could revisit tomorrow.

He’d started reasonably enough. A long hug at the front door that quickly turned into him crowding them against the wall, one thigh slotted between theirs while he kissed them deep and filthy, tongue sliding against theirs until they were gripping the front of his shirt. He’d ground against them once, slow and deliberate, letting them feel how hard he already was just from having them in his arms again, before pulling back with a low, satisfied sound.

Several more enthusiastic kisses followed, along with a heartfelt declaration that he’d missed them more than he could possibly explain. Then he’d followed them into the kitchen, where he’d wrapped his arms around their waist and rested his chin on their shoulder while they went about their business. When they’d moved to another part of the house, Johnny had followed. When they’d stopped, Johnny had stopped. At one point, he’d briefly wandered off to find something to eat, only to return less than two minutes later and resume his position as though he’d never left.

Now, he was standing behind his spouse in the kitchen again, his broad chest pressed comfortably against their back, both arms wrapped around their middle and his cheek resting against the side of their head. One hand had drifted lower, palm cupping the soft curve of their stomach before sliding down to rest possessively over the front of their jeans, fingers flexing.

“Y’know,” he murmured, watching the kitchen over their shoulder, “I’ve been thinking.” He paused to press a kiss against their temple, then nuzzled lower to drag his mouth along the side of their neck, teeth scraping lightly. “Think we ought tae spend more time together.”

It was a remarkable suggestion, considering he’d spent the last seventy-four minutes following his spouse around like an extremely affectionate shadow. “Aye, I know what you’re thinking. Johnny, we’ve been together all afternoon. But that’s no’ the point, is it?” He gave their waist a gentle squeeze, then rolled his hips forward so they could feel the thick length of him pressing against them through their clothes. “I’ve been away six weeks. That’s forty-two days. Reckon I’ve got a fair bit of catching up tae do.”

He considered this for a moment before adding, “Actually, I’ve worked it out. If I give ye one kiss for every day I’ve been away, that’s forty-two kisses. And that’s just the minimum. Doesn’t account for birthdays, weekends or emotional damages.” Johnny nodded solemnly, as though presenting the findings of an important investigation, even as he slipped his hand under the hem of their shirt to splay warm fingers across bare skin. “Very serious business, marriage.”

He turned his head and pressed another kiss against their cheek, then lower, open-mouthed against their jaw. “Forty-three. That’s one extra, just because I can.” His hand drifted higher, thumb brushing across sensitive skin before he cupped and squeezed, drawing a quiet, appreciative groan from his own throat.

His laughter was warm and unrestrained, the sound filling the kitchen as he settled against them again, still idly fondling. He’d always been physically affectionate, even before they were married. Johnny was the sort of man who instinctively reached for his spouse’s hand in a crowd, draped himself across their lap during films and considered a quick kiss an entirely appropriate interruption to almost any conversation. But six weeks away had apparently convinced him that he needed to make up for every moment he’d spent without them, and he was taking the responsibility very seriously. Right now that looked like grinding the hard ridge of his cock against them in slow, lazy circles while he mouthed at their neck.

“Price asked what I was planning tae do when I got back,” Johnny continued conversationally, his thumb moving idly against their waist while his other hand stayed under their shirt, teasing and pinching until he felt them shift against him. “Told him I was gonna spend the first day with ma spouse. Nice and quiet, just the two of us.” He paused, looking thoughtful, hips still rocking. “Then Ghost said I’d probably have ye sick of me before dinner. Cheeky bastard.”

Johnny scoffed, although there was unmistakable amusement in his voice. “Imagine saying that about me. Me! I’m delightful company.” He shifted slightly to catch their eye, giving them another deliberate squeeze. “Am I no’ delightful company, bonnie? Careful how ye answer that. I’ve got six weeks’ worth of complaints prepared, and I’m no’ afraid tae use them.”

He laughed again, then loosened his arms enough to let his spouse move freely, although he made absolutely no attempt to wander off and occupy himself elsewhere. The truth was that Johnny had missed this more than he’d expected. He’d missed hearing the familiar sounds of their home, the television playing in another room, the kettle boiling, the quiet conversations about what they should have for dinner. He’d missed the comfort of knowing his spouse was nearby, even when they were doing completely different things. Most of all, he’d missed being able to reach out and touch them without having to count down the days until he could do it again—missed the warm weight of them under his hands, the way they went soft when he pressed his cock against them, the little noises they made when he got his mouth on them.

During deployment, he’d thought about the big things. Coming home, seeing their face, kissing them for the first time in weeks. But now that he was here, he was discovering that the little things mattered just as much. Standing in their kitchen together, listening to them talk about their day, feeling the familiar weight of his wedding ring against his finger while he palmed them through their jeans. It was ordinary, and Johnny had absolutely no intention of taking it for granted.

“Missed this,” he admitted quietly, his earlier teasing giving way to something softer as he finally slipped his hand down the front of their jeans, past the waistband of their underwear to cup them properly. His fingers found them already warm and slick with arousal, and he exhaled a low, pleased sound against their hair. “Just being here wi’ ye. Don’t even care what we’re doing.” He rested his forehead briefly against the side of their head, middle finger stroking slow circles over the most sensitive part of them. “Could spend the whole evening watching ye sort the bloody cutlery drawer, and I’d still be happy.”

He considered that statement for a moment, still touching them. “Well, maybe no’ the whole evening. I’d probably get bored after twenty minutes and start rearranging things tae annoy ye.” His mouth curved into a grin as he eased one finger inside them, then a second, curling them. “Then ye’d tell me off, and I’d have tae apologise with a kiss. See? Perfect system.”

Johnny straightened slightly, giving them enough room to turn towards him if they wanted, though he kept his hand where it was, working them in slow, deep strokes. His dark hair was still untidy from travelling, and the fitted black T-shirt he’d arrived home in had acquired several creases from his enthusiastic attempts to get comfortable. He looked tired around the eyes, but there was a contentment about him that hadn’t been there when he’d first walked through the door.

“Was gonna unpack, by the way,” he said, glancing towards the hallway, voice a little rougher now. “Had every intention of doing it. Proper responsible adult, me.” He gave a small shrug, thumb still circling while his fingers pumped. “Then I saw ye, and that was the end of that.”

His smile softened as he looked at his spouse. “Christ, bonnie. Six weeks without ye, and now I cannae even convince myself tae go upstairs for five minutes.” For once, he didn’t immediately follow the admission with another joke. He simply looked at them, the affection in his expression unguarded and entirely genuine, even as he fucked them slowly on his fingers. “Love ye,” he said. “Really, really love ye.” He reached for their hand with his free one, brushing his thumb across their wedding ring before lifting their fingers to his lips. “And I’m glad I’m home.”

The tenderness lasted until his stomach gave a particularly loud growl. Johnny glanced down, visibly offended, though he didn’t stop moving his hand. “Oh, shut up. You’ve had a sandwich.” He looked back towards his spouse with an expression of exaggerated disappointment. “Honestly. Cannae take me anywhere.”

He laughed, shaking his head before his attention returned to them, fingers curling deliberately. “Right, here’s what I’m thinking. We order something for dinner, find something rubbish on the telly, and I spend the rest of the night making up for lost time. Properly. On the sofa, against the wall, bent over the kitchen table if ye want—I’ve been thinking about all of it.”

He paused, then raised a finger, still buried two knuckles deep inside them. “One condition, though.” Johnny’s eyes brightened with mischief as he leaned a little closer, pressing a kiss to the corner of their mouth. “You’re no’ allowed tae sit at the other end of the sofa. That’s practically long-distance at this point, and I’ve had quite enough of that.”

He chuckled at his own joke, then opened his arms in invitation, finally easing his fingers free and bringing them up so he could suck them clean, eyes on theirs. “C’mere, bonnie. Just one more cuddle.” His grin widened as he reconsidered his offer, already tugging them closer by the hips so he could grind against them again. “Alright, that’s a lie. It’ll no’ be just one. But ye married me, love. Surely ye knew what ye were signing up for?”