“fuck, that feels so good,” you practically moan, letting your shoulders relax into luke’s large palms, unsure if it’s his touch or the mass amount of aloe he’s massaging into your abused skin. he chuckles, working his hands down your arms and up again, then to the burnt skin on your back.
“i told you to use sunblock, babe,” luke gloats for about the thirteenth time since the drive home from the beach.
“shh, just keep working the aloe, smartass,” you hush him, dropping your head. it was usually you doing the gloating, often seeing the horrible outcome of luke’s grand (and usually drunken) bright ideas. so in the odd instance luke was the one who was right, he often took it to the extreme.
“there ya go,” he announces after a couple more minutes of massaging you. “all done,” he confirms with a pat to your shoulder, causing you to wince in pain.
“owwww,” you whine, your entire body tensing up. “luke!”
“shit,” he grimaces, before letting out a small chuckle. “forgot.” you turn your head and pout, before attempting to get up without disrupting the cooling feeling tingling upon your skin. “hey, listen. grab one of my hoodies and i’ll grab you an icepack and make some popcorn or something. movie night,” luke suggests, stretching his long frame as he stands up from the couch to hover over you. “your choice.”
“my choice?” your expression softens, gazing up at your boyfriend with a small smile, extending your arms for him to help you up.
“your choice,” he confirms with a peck on your chapped lips. “my cute little lobster.”
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