#it was fun tho! love some Hunnicutts

[youngpettyqueen]

some uhhh *tosses dart* BJ/Peg hurt comfort?? with maybe something motorcycle related? (vroom 💜)

this is perfect cause this has been on my mind since your addition to my Yalu Brick Road posting last night. please enjoy the Hunnicutts Cannot Fucking Drive agenda

"I think I did pretty good for my second try." Peg tells him.

BJ, currently carrying her back to the house, snorts and shakes his head. "That isn't exactly a tall order," He replies, "Your first try on the motorcycle lasted all of 5 seconds and I got to treat my first sprained wrist." He reminds her.

"An improvement is an improvement!" Peg insists, "This time I lasted at least 10 seconds, and I only scraped my knees. You're the one who decided you just had to scoop me up like a blushing bride." She points out.

"I like carrying you," He reasons, nudging their front door open with his foot so that he can step inside, "Why walk when you can be carried by your big, strong husband?"

Peg can't help but smile at that. Husband. The title is still new, but she likes the way it sounds when he says it. "I hope you know you've just signed up to carry me around for the rest of our lives," She says, "If my feet ever touch the floor again I will be filing a complaint."

"Every day, huh?" BJ asks as he sweeps through the entrance and into the kitchen, "I can think of worse things. After all," He sets her down, carefully and gently, to sit on the kitchen counter, "We can't have you complaining, can we?" He flashes her a dazzling smile.

Peg meets his smile with one of her own, though hers is full of mischief. "Does that mean if I complain, you'll let me back on the bike?" She inquires.

His smile never drops. "Peggy, darling, if there's one thing I know about you, it's that I will never be able to tell you what you're allowed to do," He tells her, full of love and warmth, before continuing, "I can, however, ask you very nicely to not get on the bike unless I'm right there to keep you from tipping over," And then, just to be cheeky, he adds, "Again."

"I suppose that's fair," Peg gives him. She watches him as he takes a quick look at her bloody knees, lifting one leg up and then the other. His expression is going concerned, and she can't have that, so she asks, "Give it to me straight, doctor- will I live?"

"Only if we amputate," BJ replies without missing a beat, "But that can wait until morning. For now, I can clean these up and apply the best thing medicine ever came up with," He leaves her in suspense for a moment, flashing a grin at her as he says, "Bandaids."

"Excuse me, Dr. Hunnicutt," She reaches over to take him by the collar, her mischievous grin only growing, "I do believe you're forgetting a step in the treatment plan."

"Oh?" He follows her tug easily, eyes flicking quickly to her lips, his own smile growing eager, "And what would that be, Mrs. Hunnicutt?" He asks.

"A kiss," She informs him, "Kisses make everything better, didn't they teach you that in school?"

"How silly of me to forget," He hums, leaning in close, "I guess I'll have to make up for it."

And then they kiss like newlyweds do- too much for too long, and completely forgetting about everything they're actually supposed to be doing. If kisses really could make anything better, Peg's scraped knees would've been good as new.

Still. It's pretty damn good, even if they do eventually have to break apart so that BJ can take care of her.

(They can always pick up where they left off afterwards.)