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Usually, you got home before Johnny did. You were used to the echo of your footsteps and the bang of the solid Brazilian Rosewood door behind you being your only greeting in the gaudy mansion the two of you shared. Sure, the place was beautiful. A Californian palace. But it was frequently and sorely missing its King, as were you. You thought tonight was no different. Everything was in order, the click-click of your ankle boots, the thunk-chunk of the door, the blasted air-conditioning to stave off the blistering summer heat that not even a millionaire could avoid. Still, it was certainly something, you thought to yourself as you climbed the red-carpeted stairs, coming home to a place like this after a rough day of work. Johnny had made it clear several times that you had no real need to work anymore, that he would take care of everything, but the thought made you feel, frankly, like a golddigger. So you continued your woefully normal job, saw your woefully normal coworkers, took the woefully normal trolley to the woefully normal street food stands every lunch break, and then came home to all this. And no one even knew.
That was exactly how you liked it.
You sighed to yourself as you reached the top hallway, already trying to figure out how you were going to spend the rest of your night. Maybe you should try to convince Johnny to get a dog again, at least to keep you company. He had an aversion to pets aside from the tank of exotic fish that lived near the bar downstairs, but if you whipped out those babydoll eyes then maybe he would reconsider. Your hand hovered over the crystal doorknob as you thought of potential breeds (a German Shepherd named Rex? No, that seemed too obvious, maybe a cute little scruffy thing named Johnny just to mess with your lover–) and you twisted it to see your lavish bedroom. Everything was as you remembered it this morning; black marble walls gleaming, red satin sheets on the King-sized mattress, Johnny facedown on his side of the bed, fireplace across from it clean and dark–wait. You took a step forward to have a closer look to make sure it was actually him and not just a stunt doll (it had happened before). It breathed. Yep. Unless your worst nightmares of living mannequins taking over the world had come to life, Johnny was actually home before you for once.
“Hey, sweetie,” you said gently. “You awake?”
Johnny said something into his pillow.
“Didn’t quite catch that.” You stroked his hair gently, trying to coax him into sitting up. It worked, but only barely. Johnny rolled over onto his back. His robe fell open around him, exposing a pair of what were probably the most expensive sweatpants known to man and his namesake tattoo stretched across his chest. It was getting a little faded, and Johnny kept talking about how he needed to get it touched up sooner or later.
“Unfortunately,” he repeated–or so you assumed. He sounded like he hadn’t slept in months, and looked the part, too. “What time is it?”
“Close to four. What are you doing home?” You met his tired brown eyes. “I thought you were shooting Tommy Scissorfists today.”
“Uh…I was. And then one of those big-ass set lights fell on one of the camera guys, so the shoot got canceled for today.”
“Oh my God, really?”
“Yeah…” He frowned. “I mean, he’ll be fine. He’s not dead. I think. Anyways, they let us off while they got him to a hospital and dealt with paperwork for the accident and all that crap. I gotta go shoot for Celebrity SMASH TV tonight, so I thought I’d come back here and pass out for a few.”
“Another double-shoot today?” Your voice didn’t do much to hide your disapproval. Johnny just smiled at you. Though his mouth was practiced in faux happiness, his eyes were not.
“Hey, this is great! It’s what I always dreamed about as a kid. I have so many deals I don’t even have time for ‘em all!”
“So maybe you should slow down.”
“And deprive the world of more me? C’mon, babe, don’t be ridiculous.” He sat up and stretched. His skin seemed to glow in the room’s dim lighting. “I can rest when I’m dead.”
“And you might be dead a lot sooner if you don’t give yourself breaks every now and then,” you joked, except it wasn’t really a joke at all.
“And you, as always, worry too much.”
Before you could stop him, he was already on his feet.
“With good reason.” You kicked off your shoes and sat cross-legged on the bed, your lips painted in a pout.
“Psh,” was all Johnny said to that. You sighed. Clearly, this was a losing fight. Unhappily you resigned yourself to scrolling on your phone while he got dressed for his next excursion into Hollywood. A few times, you caught him stifling a yawn behind his fist.
“I heard that,” you mumbled when he did it for probably the fourth time. “You aren’t fooling anyone, Cage.”
“You’re so protective of me today,” he chuckled. He had put on a number he liked a lot for public appearances. You’d be lying if you said the red-satin-button-up and-black-slacks-combo didn’t get you going. “Guess I should count myself lucky that you’re just that obsessed with me, huh?”
“Something like that.” You came up behind him as he skimmed through the wall-mounted rack of his precious sunglasses collection. Your hands wrapped around his waist, and he stopped what he was doing for a second. You felt his stomach bob as he laughed.
“Ohhh, now I get it.”
He turned and caught your chin in his hand. Despite his clear exhaustion, there was a fresh spark in his eyes. You found that his smile was infectious.
“You just wanna have a little taste before I have to go again, don’t you?”
“Uh…” Well. You couldn’t deny that his frequent absence had left you needy.
“I’m sorry, sunshine. I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” This was the Johnny you loved most of all. The one whose voice was soft and sultry and the one who looked at you like you were the only beings in the whole universe. The one who was unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke. “I’ll always have time for you, princess. You just, uh, gotta remind me sometimes.”
“Johnny…” There went his belt buckle. “Babe.”
“I mean it. I’m just kinda forgetful these days, you know that.” He nudged you towards the bed and flopped down on it. From the look on his face, the simple act of laying down for a second could’ve given him an orgasm in itself. “But I’ll make it up to you. C’mon, get over here.”
You sighed and obliged, sitting on the bed next to him. Johnny flashed you a grin and pulled you on top of him. Well. That pointed to his fatigue more than anything. Usually, he insisted on being on top of you no matter what. Even if you were against a wall or on a chair or crammed in an airplane bathroom, he always found a way to plant himself above you. It was both hot and somehow comforting at the same time.
“Alright,” he murmured, his motions slow and sloppy as he pushed your skirt up dutifully. While you appreciated him gripping the thick of your thighs like his life depended on it, you felt guilty. You knew that, while this may have been what he wanted, it certainly wasn’t what he needed right now.
“Johnny,” you said gently as he tugged at your panties.
“Huh?” he mumbled. He seemed entranced, completely locked onto you. It was probably the only thing keeping him from passing out against the pillows. You gingerly took his hands and guided them to rest against his own stomach.
“You need to sleep.” He started to protest, but you didn’t let him. “Look at you. You can barely keep your eyes open right now.”
“I can, too!” But he was starting to seem less sure of himself now that you were calling his bluff. You cocked an eyebrow.
“C’mon.”
“Don’know what you’re talkin’ about,” he mumbled, folding his arms. You rolled off of his lap and laid beside him.
“Here, how about this? I’m gonna turn the lights off. We’ll lay here for…ten minutes, maybe. If you’re still awake by then, we can do whatever you want.”
Johnny pouted at you. Even as you carded your fingers through his hair, he didn’t budge…until his eyes started to droop a little, and his prettyboy lips softened, and he let his arms slide down to his sides.
“Okay,” he finally mumbled. “I guess I can…try. Just…don’t lemme miss SMASH TV …”
“I won’t. I promise. Just try to relax.” You leaned over to the lightswitch near your bedside table. The bedroom went dark and you added, “For once in your goddamn life.”
A chuckle came from Johnny and he nodded. “Yeah…might be my greatest stunt yet…”
As you sat beside your love, you marveled that the rumors, apparently, were true: Johnny Cage really could do any feat. Because, within minutes, he was snoring.