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“Alright in there, luv?”
You don’t want to open your eyes. It’s the first time all day that the cramps wracking your stomach have calmed to a more manageable level, the heat from your bubble bath sinking into your very bones. You let out a hum of agreement, sinking further beneath the surface. You would submerge yourself fully if you didn’t think that Tangerine might take drastic measures and drag you right back up again.
The door to the bathroom opens and closes, a fresh gust of cold air drawing a pout to your lips as Tangerine lets himself in. The steaming cup of peppermint tea is almost enough to earn your forgiveness.
Sitting up, you accept the delicate teacup with a murmur of thanks. To your surprise, Tangerine lowers himself to the floor beside the tub. His brow furrows as he takes you in, eyes scanning you from head to toe. It has only been six months, but you can safely say Tangerine is one of the most attentive partners you have ever had. Case and point…
“Brought you tea. Peppermint’s supposed ta be good for the pain. And I sent Lem out for some more strawberries and the proper dark chocolate, not that cheap shite we’ve got in.”
“You didn’t have to do that, Tan. Really. It’s just cramps. They happen every month.” You don’t manage to get through your words without wincing as another spasm sends a fresh wave of pain through you. On second thought, maybe it isn’t too late to ask if Lemon can pick up some ice cream while he’s out.
It’s the first time Tangerine has been around during your time of the month. Between last-minute jobs and a hospital stay on his part that you would both sooner forget, somehow the two of you have managed to avoid spending time together during that special, hellish week each month.
“You said that before. You sure we shouldn’t call the doctor? They’re not supposed ta be this painful,” he says, managing to both somehow sound completely out of his depth and certain at the same time. You shake your head. You have always had terrible cramps. As far as you are concerned, it’s just another one of life’s unpleasant little surprises for you to get on with. “There’s gotta be somethin’ you usually try.”
Shrugging, you sip your tea. “I mean, I’ve tried most things once. Ibruprofen takes the edge off for a little bit, but I don’t really like to take meds if they aren’t worse than usual,” you admit, firmly ignoring the way that his frown deepens.
“Luv, if you need painkillers—”
Your eyebrows creep up. You can barely swallow back a laugh of disbelief. This is the same man who wouldn’t take more than two ibuprofen the last time he came home with a bullet wound to the neck. “Are you about to be a hypocrite right now? Because if you are, you can—”
“That is different,” Tangerine says before you can get any further. You send him a flat look.
“How?”
“Well, for starters, it’s you we’re talkin’ about, not me.”
A startled burst of laughter falls from your lips as Tangerine’s lips twist into a smirk. You’re both being ridiculous, and you know it. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours carefully. The two of you remain like this, close, breathing in tandem. Eventually, he pulls back, but not before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and making you smile.
“I’ve tried exercise, reducing stress, dietary supplements, avoiding red meat, eating more broccoli and leafy greens, drinking chamomile and cinnamon and ginger until I can’t stomach another mouthful. Heat helps a little bit, and aromatherapy,” you say, gesturing to the mounds of bubbles surrounding you and the fresh-smelling peppermint oil that fills your tub. “But it doesn’t last long.”
“What about acupuncture?”
“You have been spending too much time with Bug if you think I am letting you get anywhere near me with needles,” you say flatly, sinking another inch below the surface. You are fond of Tangerine’s strange colleague, but the man does have a lot of rather… out there new age and alternative cures for things, and a terrible penchant for mansplaining.
“Massage, then,” Tangerine persists. Eyes creeping open, you eye him curiously.
“Sure. If you’re willing to fork over a couple of hundred quid for a masseuse every month, I’ll happily set something up. Or are you volunteering to take a class for me?” you ask teasingly. You have had precisely one boyfriend offer you a massage in the past, and that, inevitably, led to said boyfriend focusing more on trying to convince you to see how far down your throat his cock would go in that position. He hadn’t stayed your boyfriend for long.
“And what if I am? Could be a good skill to have,” he says.
You laugh, shaking your head. Tangerine is a lot of things, but somehow, you can’t picture him having the patience to do something like massage. Now Ladybug, on the other hand… You dismiss the idea. That would be an entirely inappropriate line of thought about your boyfriend’s colleague. You rest your head back against the edge of the tub, letting your eyes slip closed.
“Sure, sure. Sounds like a great plan. Maybe you’ll pick something up by this time next month,” you say, as you reach for the taps with your outstretched toes. The water has started to fall to only mildly hot, rather than uncomfortably sweltering, something you need to fix immediately, lest your cramps come back in full force.
“Next month. Right.”
Peering through lowered lashes, you eye Tangerine, half curious, half exasperated. While it’s sweet he wants to keep you company, a large part of you would like to be able to lie back and relax. He’s not even looking at you anymore, his gaze locked firmly on his phone. You watch as he balances his phone on his knees, shedding his suit jacket and waistcoat. By the time that your eyes slide closed, he’s rolling up his sleeves as far as his elbows, revealing toned arms that never fail to leave you feeling dry-mouthed and eager.
It was nice while it lasted, you think wryly, assuming he has become lost in work emails again. It’s not as if he ever means to ignore you; you know how much time and effort his work takes. Hours upon hours of planning and research before he will even consider a contract. You didn’t realise the world of private security contracting required quite so much forethought, though it shouldn’t surprise you; Tangerine is always so meticulous in everything that he does.
“Said you tried everything, right, luv?” Tangerine’s voice brings you back from the pleasant, hazy edge of sleep. You hum, eyes remaining closed. “Supplements, food, what about more physical options?”
Calloused fingertips trail across your knee, slowly following the path of your thighs down beneath the surface of the water. You think little of it when you hum again. “Yes, Tan. Exercise and heat therapy and—Tan!”
Your eyes fly open as his fingers dip between your legs, gently stroking along your mound. He presses the flat of his palm against your lower stomach, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you melt. A relieved sigh falls from your lips. You had thought for a moment he might have something else in mind entirely.
“Tan, don’t. It’s really—”
“Shush.” Tangerine shifts in place, fingers brushing lower. He refuses to let you finish. You stare back at him with wide eyes, not daring to breathe. Your past partners had been only too eager to take a step back and refuse to touch below the waist when your time of the month came around. Some of the more magnanimous ones had still insisted that their fun shouldn’t stop just because it was that time of the month, of course. But not one had offered what you think Tangerine is offering. “Just relax and let me take care of you, yeah?”
“You’ll get messy,” you say, voice so soft you aren’t sure that he will even be able to hear you.
Tangerine laughs. “Good thing you’re in the bath, then, ain’t it? Plus, what’s a little bit of blood matter? ‘S all natural.”
“So’s pee, but I don’t see you—I am so not ready for that conversation. Please pretend I said nothing,” you plead as you catch sight of Tangerine’s expression. A smirk curls at the corners of his lips.
“Sure, luv; we can talk about that one more another time. For now, let’s get back ta the job at hand. Relax, yeah?” His lips ghost across yours, drawing you into a soft, sweet kiss. Lips part as Tangerine’s tongue skirts across your bottom lip, teasing you open. Your eyes widen as his fingers shift lower, hand dipping between your thighs to stroke lightly over your soaking lips.
It feels strange, having someone else touch you like this in the bath of all places; it’s as if Tangerine’s touch is both muted and amplified all at once. Two thick fingers stroke teasingly across your clit — no more than the lightest of brushes of calloused fingertips — before slipping lower, tracing down across your lips to swipe across your tightly clenched hole. Muscles spasm, a light, breathy little sigh falling from your lips as you rock your hips experimentally.
“How’s that feel?” Tangerine asks. You blink slowly, trying to form words. It feels strange, and good. More intense than your own touch, you think, as you flex your hips again, brushing your clit against his palm and drawing a needy gasp from your lips. “Fuck, you’re gaggin’ for it. Just like that, luv. Take what you need. I’ve gotcha.”
His other hand joins the first, two fingers stroking across your lips before he seems to think better of it. A single, thick finger teases at your entrance, the tip barely dipping inside as he watches you closely for any signs of discomfort or complaint.
Moaning breathily, your head hits the back of the tub, legs spreading as wide as they can within your porcelain confines. Water sloshes dangerously close to the roll top bath edge, not that either of you seems to care. Why haven’t you tried this before again? Oh yes, the cleanup always seemed like it wouldn’t be worth the slim chance of a payoff. You are starting to regret not at least giving it a try sooner.
You try to focus as a second finger teases its way inside alongside the first. The pain is still there, your cramps still sitting heavy and tight, but it’s as if the feeling fades into the background as Tangerine gently but steadily works his fingers into you, fucking you open on his fingers, grinding the heel of his palm against your clit until you are squirming and mewling and gasping, desperately trying to meet every thrust with a flex of your hips.
“Good girl. You’re takin’ me so well. Look at you; you just needed fillin’ up, didn’t ya?” Tangerine's voice washes over you, words not fully registering as you focus on the pulsing, growing need low in your stomach. Your clit throbs in time with Tangerine’s thrusts, driving you higher and higher and higher. Somehow, it surprises you, as you realise just how close to the edge you are. Something in the way that your muscles tense, the way your hole flexes around Tangerine’s fingers must give you away. His pace increases, fingers working you over expertly inside and out. Your head rolls against the back of the tub, hips arching; you’re so close.
“That’s it. Let go. I’ve got you.”
Hands shift, one wrapping around your thigh, the other going beneath you to lift your hips from the water. Your eyes widen, complaint ready on your lips — you were so close! — when Tangerine’s head dips down, his mouth descending on your clit, and everything turns white.
You tumble over the edge for an eternity, pleasure crashing over you again and again. At some point, Tangerine must lower you back to the bath, as warmth surrounds you, two fingers spearing you open, curling just in the perfect position to rub firmly against your G-spot. You have no words left in you, your mouth working in a silent scream as you clench hard around his fingers.
As waves of pleasure begin to recede, you feel as if you are going boneless, relaxing into the tub fully. Tangerine's hands stroke gently across your thighs before one moves to lightly press against your lower stomach, the heat of him soothing the faint residual cramping. For the first time in days, the pain fades into the background and feels not only bearable, but almost as if you could forget it is even there.
“No fallin’ asleep. Fuck me, are you serious right now? C’mon, stay awake just a little longer,” Tangerine coaxes you back from the edge, ignoring the little pout that takes up residence on your lips.
In the end, he just drapes a large towel over himself, wrapping a second around you in an attempt to try and keep his suit mainly dry as he lifts you from the tub. You wrap your arms around his neck, heedless of where you are dripping, too boneless and pliant to care about such trivial things. It’s not until he has you halfway back towards the bedroom that you burrow your face against his neck, cheeks heating as you realise just what a state you are in — and that Lemon could be back at any moment.
“Tan, put me down. I need to go and clean up the bathroom before Lem gets back.” You push weakly at his shoulder as he ignores you, carrying you into his room and kicking the door shut behind him. You eye the bed with trepidation. “I’m… not sure if—”
He frowns before blue eyes widen in understanding. “No, luv. Not this time. Maybe later. Lem really is gonna be back soon. You get comfy, an’ I’ll go clean up. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“But—” Tangerine cuts you off with a kiss. It’s all too easy to get lost in him, to forget what you even wanted to say. By the time you gather your wits about you, he has already left, off to ensure that the bathroom is all sparkling clean in time for Lemon’s return.
You turn back to the bed, bemused, and stop in your tracks. He really has thought of everything. A pair of your most comfortable sleep shorts sits on top of the bed, comfy oversized underwear, a pad and a tampon both sitting out for you to choose, along with one of his old, oversized jumpers. It’s one of the only things of his that shows signs of wear; the hem fraying, a hole on the elbow patched and repatched again. There’s something special about it, something personal, that you don’t recall seeing in any of Tangerine’s other clothes. You are always trying to borrow it, yet it’s one of the few things Tan usually refuses to hand over.
You bring the soft fabric up to your face, marvelling at how it feels against you. Letting Tangerine's scent wash over you, you feel yourself relaxing even further — something you didn’t think was possible. A smile spreads across your lips. You really have found yourself a keeper.