“I Bid You Welcome.”

—

—

—

No one really tells you that the first year of marriage is oftentimes the hardest.

You’d been with Leon for so long, neither of you thought making it courthouse-official would change much. You thought you were simply promoting each other from boyfriend-girlfriend to husband and wife.

But somehow, every struggle seemingly got promoted to something more legitimate, too. And ever since your honeymoon in Mallorca, your honeymoon phase is MIA, lost along with your luggage.

You’d outgrown his apartment, as nice as the place was. You agreed on that, at least. But you couldn’t agree on the best place in D.C. to settle down. Probably because you both hated the city itself, though neither of you would say it out loud. You’re pretty sure your realtor was about to fire you as clients the sixth time you changed your mind between an apartment, a townhome, and suburbia. You did eventually find the perfect home with a big backyard and a marble shower to boot, but moving house together was a whole other subject.

You wanted to hire movers, Leon didn’t. You shudder to remember the person you became when you dropped the ump-teenth box, and his sigh as he came to help (again) was all it took to send you over the edge of frustration. Not your proudest moment, for sure.

It also didn’t help that the DSO met his promotion to husband with a promotion to mentor. He’d just been starting to be able to leave work early every once in a while, and suddenly, he didn’t even have time to take his lunch break with you in the break room. Instead, you spent your first few months of marriage picking at your leftovers in your cubicle while you ate alone, eventually spent crying because you knew he wouldn’t be home until bedtime, too.

And because he got home late, you did most things alone. Pretty much everything except put away dinner, since you left it on the stove for him. You felt like you lived alone. And when he was there, you had to spend your time talking about boring, important things, like letters from the bank, when your family should come into town, which one of you left wet clothes in the washing machine, and how the hell you’ll ever be able to have a kid if he’s not present.

That last fight was really bad. But how could you blame yourself? You basically had a sexless marriage six months in. You were dying from sexual frustration which didn’t help anything, and you could safely guess he was too by how he matched your bitter tone.

You just didn’t have time. And when you finally did, one of you was either too exhausted, too mad at the other, or Leon was too afraid of bioweapon brain matter being under his nails from his last mission.

What a normal relationship you had.

The sarcastic thought made you chuckle under your breath without meaning to, and you felt Leon stir on his side of the bed.

“Hm?” he mumbled tiredly.

“Nothing.”

You blinked out into the darkness of your moonlit bedroom for a moment, and then you turned around to him, nuzzling your head onto his chest. His arm instinctively wrapped around you, his thumb tracing light circles on your side. You sighed into his touch, but there was a sadness around the edges of the sound. He always picked up on things like that.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied. Another beat passed. Then, you simply told the truth. “I love you.”

His thumb stopped. You both realized it’d been a while since either of you said it outside of routine. Your heart ached, wondering how long you’d said it and really meant it.

He kissed your head before whispering into your hair, “I love you too,” and squeezing you tighter to him.

For the first night in a long time, you fell asleep somewhat content. You wondered if he did, too. You wondered why you couldn’t remember the last time that you did. You spent the next whole day trying to, and when you couldn’t, you wondered how it all went wrong. Finding no good answer, you called your friend who’d been married a lot longer than you and told her everything.

“This is actually really common, you know. Have you considered couples counseling?”

That’s what she had said to you, and that’s what you just said to Leon.

He looked at you from where you sat on the couch like you said you wanted a divorce. You tried again to swallow the lump in your throat as you watched something shatter in his blue eyes. Then, he looked down at his hands.

“Okay. If you think that’s what we need.”

You blinked at him. You really didn’t expect him to agree just like that. You’d really worked yourself up to have this conversation. To confront the fact that neither of you were happy. To say it out loud, to make it real. A brave act, and the first step on the path to fix it.

“Are you sure?” you squeaked.

Leon stood and hugged you tight, swaying with you in his arms as he held you like you might break.

“I’m sorry things have been so hard. I want us to be good again, too. So whatever you think will help, I’ll try.”

You hugged him back just as hard, and for the first time in a while, your release of tears held hope.

—

Your therapist is a godsend. Turns out, you both had a lot of baggage to unpack. Turns out, that’s easier to do together than alone. Not easy, but still easier at least.

In the past six months of therapy, you feel like you’ve learned just as much about each other and yourself as you had your whole relationship prior. Arguments have been traded for sit-down discussions, bitterness for tenderness, and at least two lonely nights a month have been traded for dates.

But still, every so often, you lie awake in bed despite your husband’s arms around you as he drifts off in sleep.

No one really tells you that even when things get better, you’ll still wish it didn’t take so much work.

You miss the before-times. The butterflies when you first met. When loving each other didn’t take the extra effort, as worth it as it was. Even though you’re happy again, you miss when everything was simple. You miss it terribly.

Maybe Leon wasn’t as asleep as you thought. A common occurrence. Still, you didn’t realize a tear had fallen ‘til he turned towards you and brushed it off your cheek.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He whispered, still maybe half asleep.

“Nothing,” you try, but a sniffle deceives you. Leon turns fully towards you, gathering your face into his chest. He speaks softly as he pets your hair.

“Tell me, it’s okay.”

You sigh and say it.

“Sometimes I miss the beginning. I miss when everything was easy.”

His hold tightens and he holds you there in the dark, firmly, keeping the cracks of your heart together with his strong arms in the way only he can.

“I know, baby. It’s alright. You can cry.”

You do, softly, and he holds you until you fall asleep.

Leon misses it, too.

The next day, he has an idea.

—

When he pitched this idea to you, you thought it was seriously corny. Possibly too corny for you to get into it, so much that you feared the hotel he booked in advance would go unused. Since when did he believe in your nonexistent improv skills? You were skeptical at best.

Then, you walked into this swanky restaurant and saw him sitting at the bar, swirling around a glass of whiskey as he sat alone in the amber light. Your heart pounded like a schoolgirl as you approached, leaving an empty seat in between you, pretending to ignore him as you waited for a bartender.

It really was like being strangers, meeting for the first time. And with every sideways glance he gave you, eyes raking down your exposed shoulders all the way down to your high heel shoes, your skin burned with anticipation.

Just as you got your first drink, he made the first move.

“Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so,” you acted. “Where do you work?”

“Classified.”

“Ooh, mysterious. Do you ask every woman that?” you asked sarcastically, pretending to pick apart his opening line the way you would any man at a bar.

“Only the beautiful ones.”

You kinda couldn’t believe that your blush was genuine. You took a long sip from your drink and swiveled your seat to face him. You took your turn to eye him up and down, your view settling on his silver wedding band still on his ring finger. It plucked your heart strings to know that even for this, he didn’t take it off. And that gave you an avenue to follow.

“More beautiful than your wife?”

Leon bit the inside of his cheek and smirked to hide the way he squirmed inside to find a good answer for that. Then he looked back at you as he answered slowly, measuring every word.

“My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Then why are you here trying to chat me up?”

“Guess I can’t help staying out of trouble when someone like you sits next to me.”

“Someone like me..?”

He nodded once, his eyes darkening as he keeps them locked with yours. He looks painfully attractive, and you can’t help but to lean in.

“… And what kind of trouble are you trying to get into?”

“As much as you’ll possibly let me.”

—

You were right. The hotel was a total waste. A fleeting thought as Leon’s cock pounded into you over and over and over again right there in the restaurant bathroom.

You worried you’d break the poor marble countertop with how tight your hands gripped it with every thrust, trying desperately to hold onto anything to keep yourself up on your toes. But in fact, the only thing keeping you upright was Leon, with one bicep around your neck and his other hand tight over your mouth. You could feel your drool seeping through his fingers, but you didn’t exactly have the capacity to be embarrassed about it. Not when your cunt was weeping onto the tile between your feet.

“Keep it down for me. Don’t wanna get us caught, yeah?”

All you could do was whine as the deep rumble of his voice went straight to your core, as if you could even get anymore turned on right now.

“Look in the mirror, look at me. Keep watching me fuck your brains out, baby.”

The sight in the reflection was insane. You looked insane. Your hair was a mess, your carefully done makeup was smeared and running from your watery eyes, your sexiest little black dress pulled down below your breasts and up above your ass where he railed you from behind. And he looked impossibly hot, his bangs falling over his face and darkening his expression, his unbuttoned dress shirt barely hanging onto him, his muscles taught from the force he railed you with.

Your eyes went wide as a knock came from the other side of the door, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Occupied,” he said firmly, not even for a second stopping his assault on your pussy.

Somehow, your senses being put on alert heightened everything, and as your heart rate soared, your legs started to wobble beneath you. But Leon can read you like no other, and didn’t miss the opportunity to change the angle and hit right where would make you see stars.

You couldn’t help but to chant his name regardless of it being muffled under his hand. “Yeah?” he asked in response. “You like doing this in public? Letting me fuck you anywhere? That gonna make you cum?”

You nodded your head fervently, toes curling in your tights even before he reached down to catch your clit between his calloused digits.

“Then do it. Cum on my cock right here for me. Let everyone know who’s in here making you scream.”

And you did at once at those words, getting lightheaded from the force of it as you gasped for air through your nose as he muzzled you tighter to dampen the violent and embarrassingly high-pitched sounds that left your throat, blurry vision on the mirror as he chanted, “look at me, look at me,” and then he too choked on his words as they changed to, “you’re s’tight, fuck, fuck, let me cum inside, let me fill this tight pussy up, please, please.”

You reached behind yourself to hold him tight by the hip, urging him to stay buried deep in you in lieu of words until his thrusts broke apart into a stutter.

You felt him empty within you as you came down from your own high just in time to see him fall apart clearly in the mirror. His cock felt hot and heavy inside as he pulsed there, groaning roughly into your ear with every aftershock. Just as he was done, before either of you had any opportunity to catch your breath, he pulled out and spun you around to catch your mouth in a kiss that was all tongue and passion, his hands roaming all over your body like he’d never hold you again, cupping your face and ass all at once.

You spent minutes like that until you finally broke apart, resting your forehead against his as you panted, wondering if it was the cocktails or him that had you so dizzy.

—

You were dying of boredom in your cubicle by the time your lunch break hit. You made a circle from the break room back to your desk to grab your lunch from the fridge, and then unpacked it as you scrolled on your phone.

You decided to text your husband. He was off on a mission, so you know he won’t answer anytime soon if at all, but you can’t help it. You miss him terribly.

You: Date night when you get back?

And then a few minutes later:

You: I haven’t worn my black dress in a while.

You eat your sandwich with a grin, pressing your thighs together at the memories. Then, to your surprise, your phone buzzes and comes alight.

Leon: Anything to see you in that.

You: I know what you’d do to see me out of it, too

Leon: Anything.

You: All you have to do is come home safe

Leon: Can’t wait to come back to the most beautiful woman in the world.