It was a hot afternoon in the summer. Both you and Soap had spent most of the rare day off doing nothing. It was blissful. Eventually you’d gotten up and pulled a bowl of fruit you’d cut up earlier out of the fridge. It was cold and refreshing and you savored the sweetness on your tongue. Soap watched you fondly, taking a grape for himself every so often. His eyes were glued to the way you ate, your pink lips. He was a sucker for you on a good day and today was decidedly not a good day. He needed you. Wanted to feel you and kiss you until you were melted in his arms from his warm affection. With a wicked smile, Soap leaned forward and picked up a cube of watermelon. Slowly, he lifted it to your lips and traced it along the outline of them. The cold juice was a shocking contrast to your heated skin. When your eyes widened in surprise from that, he let out a soft breath that was half a laugh. He tapped the watermelon against your bottom lip. “Open.”