Anger Management

Mending

Munk pushed himself off the couch. "Fine. I'll go clean up outside, why don't you go clean up, too?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I've still got a sink full of dishes."

Munk scowled at me. "No, I mean go take a bath. Light a candle. Drink a glass of something. You know, get your basic bitch on while I do the dirty work."

Sighing and leaning back into the couch, I rubbed my forehead. "That actually sounds really good, but the dishes--"

"Can wait until tomorrow. Now go."

I stood up and gave him a mock salute. "Yes, sir!" I said briskly.

He waggled those eyebrows at me again. "I like it when you call me 'sir'," he said.

"Stop," I sighed, laughing off his obviously fake flirting. "I'm going to the bath. Thank you again," I added, feeling a bit of my shyness creeping back in.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Yeah, not a problem. You've been there for me enough times, I figure it was my turn."

We stood in awkward silence for a few more moments. "Go. Get naked," he said, though quieter than usual.

"Yep. I'm going."

Once I'd slipped into the tub, splurging and dropping in one of my fancy bath bombs, I let out a deep sigh. I could hear Munk singing along to the ever-present music in his headphones as he cleaned. He sang the words, the guitar parts, the drums, all of it. He covered the deepest hurts with the brightest enthusiasm. We had that in common.

The water was almost too hot, making my skin prickle and itch. I held my hands under the water as long as I could stand it, then gave in to the primal urge to scratch it all. It was a clumsy method of exfoliation, but it had always soothed me. 

My candle flickered softly in the corner and I stared at it as I submerged as much of myself as I could. As the flame danced, I tried to think of nothing. Just a big, black, empty space, but Munk's voice broke through like pinpricks of starlight.

I grabbed my washcloth and finished cleaning up, staying in the tub as the water drained. The air wasn't cold, but it still raised goosebumps on my overheated skin. I stood and stepped out, flipping the light switch on before blowing out the candle. Drying off slowly, I tried to see my reflection in the fogged up mirror. I was probably red and splotchy. I rubbed as much water out of my hair as I could and wrapped up in my robe.

I could hear water running in the sink, and I prepared a tirade in my head about Munk not doing my chores because that was embarrassing and he'd already done enough and just leave it alone and go sit down or whatever. I didn't even stop to grab clothes, I just marched to the kitchen, ready to give him a piece of my mind.

I had many things to say, but not a single one of them left my mouth, because when I walked into the kitchen, Munk was standing at the sink, naked back just... out there. Existing. In my kitchen. His jeans hung onto his slim hips and I blinked several times to clear the image of them laying in a tangle on my bedroom floor.

Now my face was red again, but for a very different reason. Shit. I needed to say something. It was getting weird. I was just staring. But I had no idea he was... so strong. Lean muscles stretched across his shoulders and his arms. I wanted to bite him.

Oh no. That wasn't the right thought. We were friends. Just friends. Just friends who flirted in the completely safe way where everyone knew it was just for the adrenaline and ego boost and no one was ever going to do anything about it.

But now I was seeing a whole new side of him. Literally. And my whole mouth filled with saliva.

I coughed politely, waiting for him to turn around. But he didn't. He just... wiggled his hips at me.