You ever think about Remer just holding you and touching you? Not even in a sexual way just for comfort. Because those kinds of thoughts won't leave my head to the point I DREAMT about it
hot take: remer's love language is physical touch (and gift giving) #sueme
look at this. so giggle.
you're sure remer has explored every crevice of your body during the span of your relationship. however, every time he touches you, your heart skips a beat.
you had your head tucked under his stubbled chin, legs curled up to your chest across his lap. his right hand was slowly, barely moving up and down the span of your back, nails occasionally coming up to graze against the bare skin of your neck peeking out of your t-shirt's neckline. his left hand was of course, haphazardly strung against his couch, occasionally slamming against it in anger at the sight of his favorite wrestler losing on screen.
you, however, were drinking in his rhythmic, soft breathing. you barely tilted your head up at angle to gaze at him. his glasses were off, he had a curl falling just over his left eyebrow, and his eyes were big in amusement at the match on screen, even during the late hour of the night. it was almost a reflex, how your hand came up to rub your thumb against his jaw.
he cracked a gentle, raw smile, slightly twitching when your reached a sensitive spot behind his ear. maneuvering his head to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"look at you." he mumbled against your scalp. "you're caressing my cheek. like a fuckin' sap!" his left hand now came up to point at you, accusingly.
"fine." you huffed, obviously joking. "i guess i just won't touch you." you fell back with faux drama at this, head falling onto a couch cushion and away from his neck.
it took exactly 7 minutes for remer to fold, hand sweeping right under your neck and forcing you back up. it was his turn to caress, both hands coming up to press against your face, before pulling you in for a kiss. his hands were freezing. not like either of you minded though. the kiss was somewhat frantic. like you were a thirst he'd had for a long, hard 7 minutes and he'd finally quenched it.
you tugged his hands away from your face and held them within your own, squeezing lightly.
"oh yeah, whose the sap now?" you spat, playfully throwing his own hands right back at him.
"you see, the difference between you and i is that i have no shame in being a sap. i just might be the sappiest of all." he returned.
"i just think you have no shame at all."
"maybe." he whispered, peering down at you with what you knew was adoration. for your quick wit? possibly. for your touch? definitely.
"ok, now turn around. i can't bare looking at you anymore." his tone was grandiose. he spun you around so that your chest was against his back before you could even begin to hiss a joke back at him.
you forgot any joke you were going to say the moment you felt his toned arms wrap around your chest, his legs squeezing your hips. his head coming down to rest against your shoulder, not even paying attention to the tv anymore. just you.
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