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Being a woman sucks ass.
No, seriously. Because why in God’s name, did he force you and your fellow girl friends to bear the burden that is this fish-smelling, open organ that bleeds every fuckin’ month ’til your body doesn’t consider itself past its damn prime. Fuck that! You will actually consider yourself to be in your prime once you’ll be free from this nightmare. But for now...you’ll be forced to share this sufferment with your boyfriend.
Quite literally.
“Oh my friggin’ God...” Jeremy groaned beneath you, darting his hands upwards to comb back his greasy hair, bucked teeth gritting against one another.
“Hm?” head comfortably tucked into his shoulder, you let Scout know that you were still mentally here and ready to listen, even though your eyes and fingertips seemed more focused on absentmindedly tracing the scars that decorated his lower chest.
“Those damn cramps are friggin’ killin’ me...” a pained whine tore from his throat as he dragged his digits down his face, pulling at his bottom eyelids.
While you did sympathize with him, you still couldn’t help the soft chuckle that slipped past your lips— after all, he was the only one to blame for his own stubbornness, and in extension, misery.
Scout must’ve caught your little slip-up since he immediately perked up and diverted his attention solely to you. “What was that supposed t’ mean?” he asked, no real indignation behind his words as a cheeky smile graced his lips.
“Nothing. Just...y’know...” you briefly moistened your lips— a poor attempt at getting rid of that goofy smile that tugged at them. With a soft grunt, you pushed yourself off of Scout, disregarding the screams of pure agony from the springs situated beneath your mattress. You propped yourself on one elbow and twisted your body to the side to properly face him. “You wouldn’t have to go through this anymore if you’d just accept the experimental HRT Medic prescribed for you, or that bottom surgery.”
You’ve actually second-guessed the eye-roll that followed your statement since you knew damn well just how opposed to the idea Scout was. “Nuh-uh. Not happenin’. That sick motherfuckah ain’t allowed to interfere with my body anymore! I learned my lesson with that whole Übercharge shtick, so I ain’t riskin’ him shovin’ another bird up my pussy!”
Shoving up what up his... what???
You clenched your fist and began coughing into it, trying your hardest to contain the boisterous howl that clawed at your throat. You swore to God, you didn’t want to laugh, however...it was simply impossible.
“Jeremy- I don't-” you cut yourself off with a muffled cackle, holding your fist against your lips like if you were holding onto a lifeline. It took you a while to cease your tomfoolery, but you’ve eventually managed. Still red from all that internal wheezing, you leaned over Scout and brushed some of his hair off his forehead. “I don't think that's how it works, honey.”
Scout scoffed and tutted his bottom lip out into his signature ‘kicked puppy’ look— of course it didn’t work that way! He knew that just as much as he knew that he didn’t give a damn.
“Tch. Yeah, yeah... Whatevs. Just... Just c’mere...” still harbouring that miserable pout, Scout reached out to wrap his arms around your neck and push you back onto his chest. You were all warm and cuddly...and he really needed to cuddle something warm right now.
With a low hum, you allowed him to pull you back into his arms. You buried your nose in his collarbone, inhaling the vague scent of perspiration and poor cologne as your hands mapped out his ribs. You didn’t even know when or how you entangled your legs with his— it happened on its own as soon as you felt him shift his hand from your nape to your scalp.
Everytime you accidentally breathed nearby or brushed your lips past his pulse point, Jeremy would suck in a sharper breath and tighten his hold on your hair, only to relax a millisecond later and resume the lax motion of running his fingers through the strands. It felt nice...domestic even— a stark contrast to what occurred within the base’s walls on a daily basis.
Nonetheless, you know how the saying goes: ‘All good things must come to an end’, and this time was no different. Scout, being the massive blabbermouth he is, eventually found himself overwhelmed by the lack of sound surrounding him (if you were to ignore the clock’s ticking and the AC running in the background, that is) and did what he did best...blabber.
“So- Erm...” he involuntarily licked his lips, perhaps subconsciously bracing you for the word vomit that was bound to follow. “Ain’t this kinda funny? I mean- Look at us! We’re like the hottest, coolest mercs in here, but are suck...succumbed to this stupid torture every damn month! We’re like two limp spaghetti noodles who’re forced t’ dog-fuc— Wait, no. That’s not- that probably ain’t the best way t’ describe this. Uh- How...How ’bout...Oh! How ’bout veggin’ out? Yeah! We’re like two limp spaghetti noodles, veggin’ out while bleed— Hmf! Hmphh!!”
Yeahh...For as much as you loved this man, he did have a tendency to flap his gums until the cows would come home. So frankly, it would only be the courteous thing to clamp his mouth shut before it ran rampant— and by clamp, you meant sealing it with a kiss.
At first, Scout appeared reasonably taken off-guard by the gesture, but didn’t think even twice before reciprocating it with a soft moan. Another one of your boyfriend’s unhealthy habits was his tendency to melt underneath even the barest displays of affection in a matter of seconds...but luckily for him, you were ready to give him all the affection in the world.
You could feel a pang of disappointment tug at your chest as your lips separated, already missing the warm, chapped texture of Jeremy’s mouth. You even let your eyelids remain shut for a while longer in a vain attempt at savouring what’s left of his taste on your lips— although, no amount of fantasizing could ever compare to the actual thing.
A bit reluctantly, your eyelids finally fluttered open, only to be met with the sight of Scout’s toothy, boyish grin...you know which one— the one that perfectly showed off his bucked and not-so-pearly-white teeth, the one that made his eyes crinkle, the one you would never get tired of seeing. You curiously tilted your head to the side (oddly similarly to a little pup) and raised one of your eyebrows. “What?”
“Nothin’. It’s just...” Scout trailed off into a loving sigh, his baby-blue eyes meticulously taking in every single contour of your face. Lackluster of his usual vim, he lifted his hand and began tracing your jawline with his bandaged knuckles, drinking in the image of you comfortably leaning into his touch. “It’s just easier t’ deal with this all while you’re around, y’know? Ya don’t...ya don’t make me feel like a freak for bein’ myself. I have absolutely no friggin’ idea how ya do it, but...I appreciate that...more than you’ll ever know.”
You couldn’t help the fond smile that your lips curled into at Scout’s sincerity. His dictionary might’ve not been the richest or tongue the smoothest in the world, but if there was one thing Jeremy was good at, then it was making sure that you knew you were loved and appreciated. You could feel the temperature rise within your body and accumulate in your cheeks as you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and began to rub it.
“Heh...What can I say? It’s just...It’s just natural for me— comforting you, that is. Like breathing air or...I don’t know...eating?” The last one managed to bring a soft chuckle out of Scout. “Doesn’t matter. What does matter, though, is that I couldn’t care less about anything or anyone in our way as long as you are happy, Jeremy. And I’ll stand by that statement ’til the day I die.”
You must’ve struck the right cord within Scout since the corners of his eyes immediately welled up with tears. He didn’t cry, though. Not because he wasn’t allowed to, but simply because he didn’t want to ‘ruin the moment’, as he so often proclaimed... whatever that meant.
He quickly wriggled his wrist out of your grip and used its inner side to wipe the wetness, awkwardly giggling underneath his nose to communicate that everything was ‘alright’. “I- Crap. Ya really are somethin’ else, ain’cha, toots?”
You reciprocated the giggle, although yours was much weaker, much softer. You wanted to reassure him that there was nothing wrong with expressing emotions in a way most people perceived as sissy— that he wasn’t any less of a man for doing so...but you kept your tongue sealed behind your teeth. You knew Jeremy better than anyone else...perhaps even better than he knew himself— there was simply no way in hell that this stubborn bastard is going to break a belief as deep-rooted as this one, no matter the pressure that’s going to be put on him to commit him to admitting the truth.
“Heh...Hey...Ain’t this lowkey funny?” Just when you were about to come up with a convenient subject-change, Scout beat you up to it.
“Hm?” you curiously hummed, momentarily lifting your eyebrows to emphasize your question as your thumb tenderly wiped the singular tear that streamed down his cheek.
“I mean...You’re on your period too, ain’cha? Quite a coincidence, don'cha think?"
Ah. Perhaps you underestimated his smoothness, after all.
You shook your head, what started off as a brief click of your tongue quickly morphed into an amused snicker. The covers rustled a little as you shifted on the bed to sit up, back to the headboard, one knee up and bowed with your elbow braced against it. You internally cringed at the stream that followed your movements, dreading the thought of what’s assumingly an ocean of blood currently flowing in your pants.
“Well-” you swallowed, a tad thicker than usual. The corners of your lips awkwardly twitched upwards as you palmed the back of your neck, feeling incredibly self-conscious all of a sudden. “I- I read somewhere that our menstrual cycles actually get accustomed to the cycle of our partners, or something like that... Dunno if that’s a factual occurrence, though.”
Scout must’ve sensed your discomfort as his gaze immediately softened. With a quiet grunt, he also propped himself up and against the headboard, delicately bumping his shoulder into yours to get your attention. “Makes sense, if ya ask me. After all, if we gotta suffer, then we might as well suffer togetha, eh?”
That...wasn’t a bad interpretation, to say the least.
As if struck with a sudden realization, your eyes widened in positive shock, your smile turned much more genuine, but also a tad dumbfounded— how come this goofer always knows what to say to instantly brighten your day? To make you quit worrying about the silliest, most insignificant bits and bobs? Well, one thing was certain— he was not going to reveal his secret techniques.
Already feeling your pain subside in favor of growing butterflies in your stomach, you sighed dreamily and leaned your head into Scout’s shoulder, your breath wafting over the side of his neck. You could feel Jeremy try and fail to pry the ticklish sensation off of his epidermis ’til he eventually gave up. Upon defeat, he huffed playfully and rested the side of his face on top of your head, fully immersing himself in this miniscule moment, the two of you shared together.
Being a woman still sucks ass.
Nothing’s changed your opinion; that’s just the painful truth. What did change, however, was your approach to the way in which you dealt with this inevitable sufferment...or rather, how both of you did.