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god-has-entered-my-body · 2 months

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𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

A/N: omg look who's here

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: kissing/making out, suggestive language, mentions of alcohol, cursing, thats it actually wow

“You’re not holding up your part, you need to-”

“Don’t tell me to hold my end when you’re doing fuck all.”

You sigh at the sound of Ross and Adam bickering, nervously picking at your nail beds as they carry in the sofa, Adam cautiously walking backwards whilst complaining about his lack of help. Panting and tired, they almost let it drop straight onto the floor before Matty shouts at them to lower it down properly, going over to save the precious hardwood floor from their carelessness.

Boxes surround you, labeled things like “bathroom” or “kitchen”, the feeling surreal as you look around, taking in the room. The walls are still empty, yet to be decorated by the vintage art Matty had bought to add to your new home. Your home.

Despite Denise's protests, you and Matty had saved up enough to rent your own flat on the other side of the city, a half an hour or so away from his parents and now closer to the guys, who had let George move in soon after his 18th birthday. Though cramped, they found a way to live semi peacefully, with George sleeping on the sofa indefinitely.

You feel Matty come up behind you as you unpack the centerpiece for your coffee table, wrapping his arms around your waist and gently turning you around so you face him.

The toothy grin on his face makes your heart swell with adoration, and you press a light kiss to his lips, humming contentedly as he pulls you in tighter.

“Look at us, all grown up.” You whisper against his mouth, smiling sweetly as Matty nods, looking around the mostly empty space and snaking his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.

You giggle at his little move, pressing yourself further into him. “Fucking insane, isn’t it? Our own place.” he sounds in awe, like he didn't pick this flat out himself and sign all the paperwork with you.

Your moment is interrupted by gagging noises coming from none other than Ross, who’s currently scrunching up his face and telling you to “Get a room, mate, we don’t need to see all that.”, with Adam shooting you both an apologetic look. Matty shakes his head and lets you go, flipping Ross off before finding another box to unpack, bringing it into the bathroom. You follow close behind with a box of your own, wanting to get your toiletries in order before you spend your first night there.

Matty pulls out toothbrushes, towels, creams, and toilet paper, putting the items in their respective places as you cut open the tightly sealed box in front of you. You find more hair stuff, old dye, brushes, and combs, but one thing catches your eye. A box of bleach makes its way into your hands, and you run your fingers over the label as old memories flood your mind.

The way Matty laughed as you put the first layer of bleach onto his hair, begging you to not fry it off or make him orange, earning him an annoyed eye roll and a vague threat. The sound of his laugh will never not make you fall in love with him even more.

“We should re-do your roots, baby, it's been a while.” you say as you turn around, taking the opportunity to run a hand through Matty’s hair, seeing the two or so inches where his highlights had grown out. They’re not extremely noticeable, but you can see them clearly whenever he puts his hair up, the two strands that frame his face looking off and unfinished.

You’re not one to talk, though, wincing as you think back to your bleached hair, how uneven and fried it was afterwards, happy about your decision to dye it back to black.

Matty takes a look in the mirror, narrowing his eyes “Yeah, it has, hasn't it? I look proper trashy now.” turning his head in all different directions to see his hair from all angles. You laugh quietly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, smiling against his skin. “You know I don't mind.” you reassure him, raking your nails down his arm.

Taking your time, you unpack the rest of the bathroom, stopping in between to make sure the other hasn't broken anything down the hall. Adam seems to have everything under control, being ever helpful as Ross and George bicker over who has to bring in the dining table, both of them refusing to do it. Their fighting makes you roll your eyes in defeat, calling Matty from the bathroom to help you bring in the parts to build it back up, making sure all the screws were still in the little ziplock bag you put them in.

The first night in your new flat is strange, sleeping in an empty room with just a bed and more. boxes. Both of you are sick to fucking death of the boxes, praying that you’d get the rest done tomorrow in the hopes of having an actual home, decorated and filled with the things you love. Matty’s record player sits on the floor as you cuddle up to him, laying your head on his bare chest.

The sound of his breathing soothes any anxiety you feel, a familiar safety enveloping your body as night falls, moonlight flooding in through the curtainless window. This change is a lot for you, and Matty knows that, but it’s also a fresh start. A new beginning for your relationship, for your lives together.

You fall asleep with Matty’s hand in your hair, rubbing loving circles into your scalp.

☁︎

Matty grins as the bells chime, his eyes landing on you. Shutting the door behind you, you greet the hostess with a smile, noting her name down in your head, and make your way over to him. With your bag slung over your shoulder, the keychains attached to it clink as you walk, lifting the bar door to be greeted with a kiss and hug from your boyfriend, his arms snaking around your hips and pulling you close.

“Missed me that much?” he asks, a cheeky smile spread onto his face. You make eye contact with the shift manager across the room, and she nods at you, shooting you a polite smile before turning to talk to a server. His work knows you, and lets you hang out behind the bar under the condition that you don’t touch anything, and don't distract him from his customers.

Matty’s finally landed a job at a bar downtown, hidden behind a tailor but still popular nonetheless. It fits him, and pays well enough that he could afford the rent by himself if he had to, but you split it equally anyway.

The black stained wood of the place is pleasing to the eye, silver detailing on the tables and bar pulling it all together nicely. You have your chair behind Matty, a bar stool you sit on to keep him company while he works his shifts, mostly in the evening or late afternoon, when the place starts to fill a bit more.

Though very much enjoying the view of your boyfriend in a loose, borderline skimpy white tank shaking and pouring drinks, you take to people watching. The couple at table nine seems to be fighting, charged glances being exchanged as they silently eat their food. The woman at the other end of the bar is looking for someone to take home tonight, dressed up to the nines and sweet talking a man who seems quite a bit older than her.

You play some songs on their jukebox, taking song requests from Matty here and there, and even ordering a few drinks to occupy you. Matty brings you your martini, letting his fingers linger a few beats too long as he hands it to you, using the moment to kiss you softly, the minty smell of gum on his breath.

Time ticks by slowly as you sip your drink, holding idle conversation with a girl sitting at the bar whilst doing your best to stay out of Matty’s way. You’re pulled away by Matty scooting past you, grabbing a tall glass for a customer.

“He’s your boyfriend?” the blonde asks, gesturing to a now quite sweaty, and mildly stressed Matty pouring a gin and tonic. You smile and nod, brushing your hair out of your face. “Yeah, they let me chill here while he works. Pretty cool, yeah?”

“Layla.” she says, holding out her hand for you to shake, and you offer your own name. You talk for a long while, and you make Matty make her a new drink more than once. It feels nice having someone to talk to. Getting lost in conversation, you learn she braids hair for a living, and Layla asks what you do. “I work at the Wetherspoons down the road from our flat, opening shifts when I can.”

It’s not long before Matty taps you on the shoulder, telling you he’s about to go on his break. You politely excuse yourself, smiling sweetly as you follow him outside to the alley, pack of cigarettes already in hand. “Who’s that?” he asks, referring to the person you’d been speaking to for the better part of an hour.

“That's Layla, it’s her first time here.” Matty just hums in response, handing you his nearly empty lighter.

It takes a few tries to light, and the first drag relaxes you immediately. You don’t speak much, just stand there smoking your respective cigarettes until Matty puts his out under his boot. You can tell he’s tired and stressed by the overwhelming amount of customers, and that this break is much needed to get him through the rest of his shift.

“You doing okay?” you ask as his hands find your hips, his face burying itself into the crook of your neck. “You smell nice.” he murmurs into your skin, ignoring your previous question. You let your hands wander the expanse of his back, feeling Matty tense and relax his whole body under your touch.

“M’just tired.” he adds, pulling away to press his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes. The closeness of it all makes you giddy, but at the same time you worry about him.

“Is it always this busy? I don't like seeing you this tired, baby.” you speak slowly, not wanting to sound too overbearing, knowing how much he hates being babied. Matty sucks in a deep breath, standing up straighter before giving you your answer. “It’s Saturday, always gonna be a bit fuller with people going out.” you just nod, rubbing his back lovingly and pressing a soft kiss to his bitten lips.

Matty sighs into the kiss, his hands finding your shoulders as you guide him the brick wall of the alley, pushing him up against it gently. You can tell he likes this little turn of events, letting you direct him and take over the kiss quickly, licking into his mouth as your fingers graze over his torso, grabbing onto his waist. The soft noises he lets out make you smile, pulling away to look at him properly.

“Y’know, some people think i sit there to look pretty for you, when really, you’re absolutely gagging to be whisked away like this, aren't you?” you whisper, digging your nails into his hips as a grin spreads onto Matty’s face, complementing the faint blush on his cheeks beautifully.

“S’nice being appreciated for how hard I work, especially if it's like this.” Matty answers, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip before pulling you back in and kissing you, harder this time.

You feel him up properly, groping his chest and sides while he feels the curve of your ass, kneading the flesh and earning soft moans from you. Making out in the alley isn't really the best way to be spending his ten minute break, but you can't bring yourself to care. It isn't until you’re interrupted by a harsh knock on the door that you pull away from each other, quickly smoothing out your clothes and wiping lipstick off Matty’s lips, shooting him one last cheeky smile before he goes back inside, quickly following behind him.

☁︎

The distinct smell of bleach fills the air as you mix the dye in your trusty bowl, using the back of the brush to do so. Matty sits on the white marble counter, swinging his feet and fiddling with the speaker, turning the volume higher before facing you again. Using clips, you pin his hair up gently, fixing it so it’s easier to put the foils on afterward.

The look in Matty’s eyes as you layer the mixture on makes your heart melt. His brown eyes bore into yours, and you almost lose your concentration more than once, quickly wiping off the stray bleach off the bits where it's not supposed to be.

“Don’t fuck up my hair, I beg you.” Matty warns jokingly, licking his lips as you bit yours, cleaning up your mistake in record time.

“Don't look at me like that then, it’s throwing me off.” you breathe, wiping your hand on a towel before continuing painting his roots. “Like what?” Matty asks, raising his eyebrows at you, questioning your statement. You simply shake your head, smiling fondly as a wave of deja vu washes over you.

“Remember the first time we did this, back when I was a blonde?”

Matty giggles at the memory, making a comment about how fried your hair was after that, and how your mother almost killed you because of it. The mention of your parents shifts the mood, but you ignore that sinking feeling in your chest in favor of wrapping Matty’s hair up.

“I really love you, you know that?” the words sound like they've been coated in love the way they make you so, so giddy when you hear them. Your cheeks flush as Matty smiles sweetly, his hand thumbing at your hip while you work on him. “I love you too.” you answer, loving the way his eyes light up when you speak.

Nothing could replicate the feeling you get when you’re with him, the pure, passionate love the two of you share.

You giggle at the sight of Matty all done up in foils, strips of metal sticking out of his hair wildly. Committing the sight to memory, you kiss him while you wait for his hair to lift, faintly tasting the chapstick on his lips.

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