".. fuckin' finally." Simon groaned, looking over your shoulder to check if your eyes were closed, and glad to see that they were, silently slipped out of bed.

Thing is, the two of you've just had a party at home to celebrate your wedding anniversary, so they're a ton of food leftover. Did Simon eat enough during the festivities? Absolutely, more than filled his stomach, really, but it was just that banging. Was it enough for him to go to bed satisfied? Absolutely not.

He crept quiet as a mouse into the kitchen, sneakily opening the fridge and stuffed his face with the leftover chicken, the pasta, ice cream, everything he ate before, but more. Christ, if you saw him now. It's not that you put him on a diet or anything —actually, you're the one who feeds him so well— it's just that he knows he'll have a stomachache when he ates far, far past the point of full, and he'd rather you just.. well, not know that he finds the food well worth it's consequences.

His eyes widen when he hears the light flick on from the bedroom, and your footsteps pad sleepily to the kitchen. Slamming the fridge close and hurried grabbing a glass of water, he gasped and panted to swallow the mouthful, trying to appear as if he wasn't eating like a monster again.

".. hngh, whatcha.. doin' up, luv?" he coughed out when you appeared, rubbing your eyes.

"I was.. trying to cuddle with you, but you weren't in bed, Si." you murmur sleepily.

He nodded, trying to hide whatever tell he did or did not have for when he lied.

"Right, right.. er, I was.. getting water."