So goddamn sweet, I want my boyfriend to be like this!!!
Your Missus coming home after another night out with the boys.
Kyle and Johnny had taken Simon out again. Good lot, those two. He needed it, desperately so in your opinion.
So when he came home in the wee hours of the morning, pissed beyond belief, so much so that Kyle and Johnny were practically holding him up, well...
You figured Simon didn't know where he was. He'd taken one good look at you, or rather through you if his blurry gaze was any indication, and slurred out, "...'m sorry, luv, but I'm a taken missus."
Yes. Yes, you are, Simon.
You helped the boys get him situated. Simon refused to leave the couch, though. You made Johnny and Kyle crash in the spare bedroom and busied yourself helping your husband out of his clothes. His back would be an outright bitch in the morning. You can't say you didn't warn him. "Yer a good one, mate," Simon slurred as he sluggishly helped you take his shoes off, "Jus' like muh missus."
"That so? What's your missus like?" If you can't beat him, join him.
"Bes' fuckin' thing," he started, burping before laying down on his back. Simon looked at the ceiling, eyes half-lidded, fighting sleep yet two seconds from passing out, "Made o'good stuff, lovin' a bastard like me..." Your heart swelled with love, pride, and a little sorrow. You'll make sure to triple the amount of kisses you give him. After his hangover, that is.
"Yer made o'good stuff, too, mate," he trailed off sleepily, "Gonna get a'good missus like mine..."
"And what if I already have him?" You asked as you draped a blanket over Simon. "...Lucky bloke, then. Kick his ass if he doesn't see it..."
Will do, Simon. Will do.
And when your husband woke up the next day, his back an outright bitch, head throbbing, and cursing Kyle and Johnny to high heaven, you recounted every single word he said.
He hasn't lived it down since.