A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

It was enough for you to groan, tears welling in your eyes once more. You had been so close to sleep. So damn close. And then your handsome, loveable, oaf of a boyfriend just had to make noise.

"Babe? What's going on?" Bradley had just stripped off his flight suit, changing into a clean t-shirt when he'd heard your muffled groan. He found you curled up on the bed, head half under his pillow and still dressed in your work clothes, which was odd for you. You usually tossed your work clothes off the second you could. Something about taking off the day's events with your blouse and bra. So he knew immediately that something was wrong.

"Babe?" Bradley was loud, even his questioning tone was too much. It felt like pieces of sandpaper rubbing together, a coarse scraping sound that seemed to resonate in the air around. It was just too much.

"Itstoomuch," you moaned, cursing yourself for the tears falling down your face yet again. "'S too loud."

Bradley paused, mind whirring on how he could help. "How can I help?" He whispered, kneeling on the edge of the bed. "Babe."

"Clothes," you mumbled, rolling onto your back. You kept his pillow over your face, trying to block out the light. "Help, please."

He nodded, moving as quietly as he could around the bed so he was closer to you. Fingers slipped the buttons of your shirt from the button holes, trying not to touch you more than necessary. Bradley knew that you got overstimulated sometimes and one of the first conversations the two of you had had when you had started living together was about how he could help when this inevitably happened.

When the last button slipped free, Bradley set about pulling a t-shirt of his over your head, moving the pillow just enough to slip it on. Your bra was unclasped and tossed behind him, and normally when that happened, you couldn't get enough of him. Couldn't get enough of his large hands roaming your body, the gentle, teasing scrape of his mustache against the sensitive skin... but that wasn't today. And your absolute gem of a boyfriend knew that from one glance. You didn't deserve him, not when he was clearly exhausted from work and was taking care of you. It was enough to make you start crying again, making your boyfriend freeze.

"Babe? What's going on?" Bradley was concerned, well, more concerned than he already was. "What's wrong?"

You mumbled something, but because the pillow was in the way, he understood none of what you had said. So he reached for his pillow, gently pulling it away, and immediately noting the tear stains on your face, the puffiness of your eyes and his heart sank. How long?

"What was that?" He whispered, trying to get answers but also trying his best to keep his voice down. "Babe, I didn't hear what you said."

"You don't have to... do all this," you replied, tears still leaking from your eyes.

"'Course I do, babe. You're my girl, and my girl isn't feeling good." His amber eyes were full of concern, tracking the tears rolling off your cheeks and his mouth was drawn into a line. All Bradley wanted to do was help, but he didn't know what you needed right now. "I'm staying here. So what do you need?"

"Can you lay on top of me?"

"What?" Bradley blinked at you. "Honey, I'd squish you."

The idea made you crack a small smile. "It's hard to explain, okay? Weighted blankets are supposed to help with this..." you trailed off, gesturing up and down your body. "And we don't have one, so can you lay on top of me?"

"I'm going to get you out of your work pants first because they can't be comfortable, and then... I guess I'm laying on top of you?" He rubbed at his jaw, looking unsure before doing just as he said he would.

Bradley knelt on the bed, knee-walking up a little higher before he stretched out, slowly pressing his weight on top of you, pausing as you started to giggle, which made him chuckle. "You okay, babe?" He asked, looking quite amused by the whole situation. Maybe half his total weight was on top of you, the rest kept off of you as he propped himself up on his elbows, watching your face try and school itself back into a neutral expression.

Once you'd stopped giggling, Bradley lowered himself all the way down on top of you. He felt you sigh, your head turning into the crook of his neck. Bradley wouldn't admit it, but he felt a little ridiculous laying on top of you like a dead fish, but if it helped you feel better, then he would do it a million times over. "Is this helping?" He mumbled, feeling you try and wiggle underneath him.

"Mmhmm," you hummed. And it was. The pressure was comforting, grounding and it made you feel like the world wasn't suffocating you anymore. All you could feel was the soothing weight of your boyfriend on top of you, and his slow, steady breathing that helped slow your own breathing down. "Thank you B."

You could feel him smile into your neck. "Good." A beat, then he spoke again. "Can I hold you now?" He'd propped himself up on his elbows again, allowing himself to look you in the eyes. "C'mon babe. Let me cuddle my girl."

Heaving a sigh, you nodded, watching him roll off of you onto his side. Bradley settled himself before making grabby hands in your direction, grinning as you rolled your eyes and shuffled into his arms. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you. One hand held the base of your neck, fingers weaving up into your hair, while the other curled around your lower back and finding its home on your bare hip under the t-shirt. "Happy?" You mumbled into his skin, inhaling the scent that was so uniquely him, before pulling back and wrinkling your nose at him. "You stink."

He laughed. "Well now I'm not happy because my girl wants to leave me," Bradley complained dramatically, abruptly letting you go and rolling away. "I lay down on top of her and this is the thanks I get? Unbelievable!"

His dramatics made you laugh as you pulled him back over to face you. "Bradley! Come on!" You were laughing too hard to get a good grip on his arm and you fell back onto the bed beside him, hearing him try and stifle his own giggles at your feeble attempt to pull him over. "Honey, come on! I'm sorry!"

Bradley's shoulders shook with silent laughter as you tried yet again to get him to face you, laughing all the while. It was in sharp contrast from how he'd found you some 20 minutes earlier, but you were clearly feeling better. So when you pulled at his arm again, he rolled over suddenly, laughing at your sudden shriek. Light was back in your eyes and the only tears falling were those of joy as you giggled at him. It made him grin widely before reaching over to pull you on top of him.

You watched Bradley grin and you couldn't help yourself, ducking down to peck him on the lips quickly before trying to clamber off him and the bed as quickly as you could. However, you didn't get far. Bradley's arms shot out, catching you around the hips and pulling you back onto the bed.

"Where do you think you're going, babe? Hmmm?" His teasing grin made you blush, but you bit your lip in an attempt to push it away.

But then he rolled so that you were under him, as he held himself up by his hands. "I don't know," you mumbled, smiling up at him. You would never get over how pretty Bradley was. Even in the darkness surrounding you both, you knew that you could picture his face as perfectly as you would have with the lights on.

"Running away from me..." he trailed off, before peppering kisses all over your face and neck, making you squeal and try in vain to push him off of you.

"Bradley!" You shrieked. "I didn't mean it!" His lips were everywhere; kissing your nose, cheeks, your jaw, but not your lips. So you caught his face, drawing him in for a sweet kiss. You poured your thanks into the gesture, hoping he understood just how much he'd helped.

And he did. Bradley had promised himself to be there anytime he could when you needed him. Even if that took him laying down on top of you like he had on a day like today. A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.