“Babe, I think Morris is making seeds 15% off this week, if you need any.” Sam calls from bed while sifting through the stack of mail from your nightstand. His head lifts up from the pillows, neck craning, to see if he can catch a quick peek at you watering the houseplants you’d bought earlier.

When you don’t seem to perk up when he talks like usual, the blonde gets up with a soft grunt, his back still aching from a recent fall with his skateboard. “Hey, angel. You listening?”

His arms wrap your waist after he takes a few steps closer, nose skimming the nape of your neck, and grins boyishly when you startle.

“I told you Morris has a discount on seeds.” Sam mutters into your skin.

He knows it’s immature, but he nuzzles against you needily, his messy hair blending with yours as he indulges the shared skin contact.

He doesn’t want to go back home.

You feel way better.