Worry Rock

A hand slid up and down my back slowly, twisting the strap to my tanktop around a finger. I lifted my head from the comfortable position I was in to look up at a chin. I grinned, going to prop myself up, only to find that I was tangled in a pair of arms. I sighed lightly, twisting my body around, trying to get out of the situation I was in, only to hear a groan come from behind me. "Baby...stay here..."

I hesitated before turning around, looking at the body next to my own. He had a serious case of bed head, and it looked as if he had skipped shaving for the whole week, starting to grow facial hair. I smiled, reaching over and kissing his cheek sweetly, going to slide off the bed only to feel a cold hand wrap around my arm. "Billie..." I mumbled, trying to pry his fingers off, "Babe...let go."

Billie Joe pushed his face into the pillow, groaning. He rolled over so that he lay on his back, still holding onto my arm. I sighed, giving into him as he pulled my body back onto the bed, closer to him as he yawned, rubbing his eyes. He turned over on his side to face me, resting a hand on my hip as he nuzzled my nose with his own. "Are you not mad at me anymore?" he murmured in a small voice.

I shrugged my shoulder, flashing him a smile, "I still think you're the biggest asshole I've ever met, but I still love you."

"I'm an asshole?" he asked, a grin placed on his face.

"The biggest," I giggled, burying my head in his neck as he wrapped his arms around me. Billie Joe chuckled, pressing his lips to my own as a silence filled the room, his eyes slowly closing while his mouth dropped open slightly, falling back asleep. "Billie..." I murmured, "Let me get up."

He shook his head slowly, tightening his grip on my body, acting as if he was asleep, although a smile started to appear on his face. "No...because then I'll be lonely and sad."

"So get up with me," I offered.

He groaned, moving closer to me, "Now you're just talking crazy talk, baby. Let's sleep. All day, and never get up. Kay? Let's be couch potatoes. Only in bed."

"No thanks."

"Aww," he cooed, shifting his body in the bed so that he was half on top of me, half on the bed, "You don't want to spend time with me? Your hubby?"

I started laughing, kissing his cheek before pushing my body out of the bed, Billie Joe groaning angrily. He sighed, crawling across the mattress, sitting cross-legged, as if waiting for me to come back as I pulled the blinds open, spreading the curtains apart. I watched Billie Joe fall back onto the bed, throwing his arms over his eyes to shade himself from the sudden rays of light. "It's not bright out," I pointed out, "It's raining. No need to hide from sunlight today, Billie."

Billie Joe looked through his arms at me, muttering to himself. "Har har har," he muttered, "Funny shit there."

I snorted, flicking the switch so that the light turned on as Billie Joe dragged himself over to the window, resting his chin on the edge of it. "It's gloomy out. Hey. We really could be bed potatoes today," he turned around to face me, the look on his face making him look like a kid, "Because it's raining, and unless you wanna go do a sexy dance in the rain, there's nothing to do."

"There's plenty to do inside."

"Like be bed potatoes?"

"Nope."

"Oh..."

I looked at him from over my shoulder, watching him slowly push his body over to the bed, falling face first on it before crawling back over to the other side, where I was standing. A devilish smile slowly crept onto his lips as got up, waiting a moment before throwing his arms around my body, pulling me back on the bed as I let out a yelp. "Billie Joe! Get off!"

I heard him chuckle as he held me closely against him, flipping us over so that he sat on top of me, grinning down at me. "Bed potatoes."

"Billie. You're going to get hurt." He laughed, sticking his tongue out, as if he was going to lick me. "Billie Joe," I warned, "Do not even think about it."

"I'm not thinking," he said in a smart-ass tone, "I'm doing."

"Don't you dare lick me."

He grinned, dipping his head lower causing me to squirm underneath, placing my hands on his chest to push him off, but it had no affect. "Billie Joe, don't lick me. Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Lick me."

He placed his tongue right next to my mouth, hovering above my skin. "Why? Is my tongue diseased?"

"Yeah, along with the rest of you."

"Excuse me?" he gasped in mock shock, "Did you just insult me?"

"Maybe..." I mumbled, focusing on the chain that hung from his bare neck, "Yes."

His mouth hung open as he sat down on my legs, leaning forward so that his hands rested on my shoulders, pinning me down. He sat up, still sitting on my legs, watching me try to get away. He watched me, a smirk planted on his lips the whole time. "You're not going anywhere, kid."

"Kid?" I muttered, "Billie, I'm thirty four years old."

He grinned, pressing his lips against my own softly, "Well then what do you want me to call you? Schnookums?"

I started laughing, shaking my head. "I can't see anyone calling me that."

Billie Joe chuckled, resting his arms on my stomach and he leant down on me, "Schnookums," he snorted, "You're right. Neither can I. How about...Hasm."

"Hasm? What the hell is a Hasm?"

"Hot and sexy mama."

My eyes widened before I started laughing once again, also shaking my head. "You're crazy, Billie."

He smiled innocently as he lay his body down on mine, "I know. But what would you like me to call you?"

I watched him look down at me, resting his head in the palm of his hands, as if he were a small kid watching cartoons. "How about Joe?"

Billie Joe laughed, wrapping his arms down around my lower back, "I guess that could work. Easy to spell and easy to scream."

***

Billie Joe pulled the door open to the house, looking down to see a boy standing there. He had dirty blonde hair that fit in perfectly with his blue eyes and freckled face. Billie Joe arched an eyebrow slowly, going to ask who he was when Sydney came up behind him, smiling like a moron. He looked to his daughter, wanting to argue with the fact that she was inviting boys over, only to be pulled away by me.

"Who the hell is that?" he asked, his eyes wide, "That ain't one of her friend's is it? I've never seen him before. I say we throw him out. You can never trust-"

"His name is Chris," I interrupted him, pouring myself a glass of orange juice, "Sydney had a crush on him this year, and they were assigned a project together."

"She likes him? Like a friend...right?"

"Of course not. Friends are so overrated."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, confused by my statement as he sat back on a stool next to me, stealing a piece of toast from the plate set in front of me, "So she likes him more than a friend? Shit. Maybe we should get them to work down here...instead of her room...you know...she can be kinda-"

"Now now, Billie, don't be paranoid."

He sighed, shaking his head slowly. "How can you allow her to sit in her room with a boy?"

I sighed, brushing a string of hair out of my eyes, "Billie. You're a boy...Oh fuck...maybe we should be worried."

Billie Joe looked over at me, a smile appearing on his face as he swatted my arm. "No. I'm not a boy. I'm a man. There's a big difference there. I would know."

I arched an eyebrow slowly, giving him a 'you're friggen crazy' look. "You're hardly a man. You're just a little boy," I started giggling, holding up a hand and spreading to fingers apart, as if to say he was that big, "Little."

"Shut up," he grumbled, although a slight pink shade started to show on his cheeks, a small, embarrassed smile appearing on his face.

I laughed gently, slinging an arm around his neck, pressing my lips to his now pink cheeks. He looked over at me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into his lap. "I'm not that little..am I?" he asked after a moment of silence.

I kissed him gently, shaking my head, a giggle escaping my lips. "I've seen smaller."

Billie Joe stared at me for a moment, his left eye starting to twitch. I arched an eyebrow slowly, folding my arms as I looked over my shoulder at him, still perched in his lap. "What?"

"That sounded really fucked up," he mumbled, turning my body around so I was facing him, "You've seen smaller..."

I thought for a moment, before catching on and laughing, swatting his arm. "You're so dirty, Billie."

He smiled sheepishly, bowing his head. "I...uh...well...it sounded like it," he tried, "I've seen smaller. Smaller what?"

"Men," I rolled my eyes playfully, "Like midgets. And no offence baby, but I don't think what you have get's much smaller."

Billie Joe's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open in mock disbelief. "Oh. Oh no you didn't."

I giggled, pushing my forehead against his own. "Did what? You?"

Billie Joe chuckled, kissing me quickly. "No, unfortunately you haven't. I think I'm becoming a virgin again."

I snorted, "I don't think you will ever even be close enough to say you're one."

"I'm that bad, huh?" he paused, running his tongue over his crooked teeth, wriggling his eyebrows, "Or should I say I'm that good?"

"Maybe you're just that desperate."

"I'm not desperate," he mumbled, "Just slightly perverted."

A giggled escaped my lips as I pressed them against his own lightly before I slid off the counter, leaving him to stare at me with a love-sick smile placed on his lips. "Okay," I heard him give in as he watched me, "Okay, I admit. I'm desperate."

I looked back of at him over my shoulder, shooting him a playful seductive smile. "I know," I said simply, "You didn't have to admit it, but it was nice to hear."

"I'll say it again if it means I get something."

"You'll say anything if it means you get something."

"And that's because I've figured out how you work," he said, propping himself up on the counter with his arms whilst his legs swung, hanging off.

"Oh really?"

"Yeap."

"Then why do you find many nights of your life getting to know the couch better?"

Billie Joe snorted, sitting up straighter, "Because I've figured you out. Not mastered the woman world. No man will do that."

"There's a women world?" I asked, crossing my arms as I leant back on the counter, arching an eyebrow.

"More like language," he said simply with a nod of his head, "It's one of those annoying, you say something but you mean the complete opposite things."

"Oh. I don't do that."

"Yeah you do," he mumbled, "All the time. When I want to go out drinking 'er something with the guys. You say, fine, go ahead, but you think you step foot out that door and you are so sleeping on the couch."

"Then why do you still go?" I asked with a smirk.

"Because I use reverse psychology in a matter that makes me do what I want, when I want."

"And that, my dear companion, is why you spend a lot of nights forgetting who you are on the couch."

The older man laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "You know you feel bad when you send me to the couch."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, "Only because you look as if you're a dog that just saw it's owner shot and killed."

"It's because I like to cuddle," he said in an innocent tone, "There's nothing to cuddle with on the couch, and I know you're mad," Billie Joe stuck out his lower lip as if he were a small kid pleading with their mother for forgiveness, "That's why I look that way. I don't like it when you're mad at me."

I felt myself smile as I stood before him, feeling his arms wrap around my arms, his body perched on the counter as I stood, "Then why does it take you forever to apologize?"

"Because I've got pride."

"I think it's because you're stubborn."

"Yeah, okay, that too."

He leant down, pressing his lips to mine sweetly, parting slowly as he heard footsteps, watching his daughter slowly enter the kitchen from the corner of his eyes. She looked around, saying hi to us quickly before pulling open a drawer, searching thorough it. "Watch," Billie Joe muttered, "Watch this typical Billie Joe Armstrong and teenager move. She'll search through that draw about fifteen times, then go to the next one, then back, and then we'll ask what she's looking for and she'll act like we're invading her privacy."

"I can hear you," Sydney said, not bothering to look over at her father.

"What, darling?" he asked, craning his neck to look over at her, as if he had said nothing, "What did you hear?"

The thirteen year old turned around, crossing her arms and giving her father the same look I had given him before. "I was looking for tape, dad. I ripped part of the poster board by accident. I don't think you're invading my privacy by asking me what I'm doing. It's when you pass my room fifty-thousand times looking in at Chris and I, like I know you will, that I realize you're invading my pirvacy."

Billie Joe looked down at me, his body still wrapped around my own as he sat on the counter top. He looked over at Sydney, making a sour face and sticking out his tongue. "I do not do that."

"Only because mom holds you back."

Billie Joe opened his mouth to argue, only to sigh and shrug his shoulders, bowing his head. "Yeah, okay. Sue me."

She laughed at her dad, turning back around and rummaging through the drawer once again. "What kind of tape do you need?" I asked, watching her move from one drawer to another.

Sydney shrugged, turning back around to face Billie Joe and I, "Just regular tape. It's just a small tear, but we forgot it was next to us, and I accidently ripped it when he was threatening to put glue on me."

Billie Joe grunted, in return getting elbowed in the knee, making him groan. "There's some in the drawer," I said innocently, watching Billie Joe bite his lip, dropping the top half of his body back on the counter before sitting up again, reaching forward and pinching my arm.

I jumped away from him with a yelp, wacking his leg, "Watch it, Armstrong."

Sydney grabbed the roll of tape, closing the drawer, looking back over to her father and me. She held up the tape, making her way over to the doorway the lead into the lounge. She looked back at us, "I'm going back to my room. Thanks for the tape," she paused, watching Billie Joe pinch my arm once again, "Don't kill each other, kay?"

"Yes mom..." Billie Joe grumbled, watching his daughter laugh and walk out of the kitchen, hearing the echo of her footsteps. He looked down at me, biting the inside of his cheek, "I want to go into the pool."

"Billie, it's raining."

"I know," he stated, smiling as if he were a kid, "Lets to out in the rain."

I went to speak, only to feel Billie Joe's arms wrap around my waist; picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder like Travis had done the day before. "Shit. Billie Joe, put me down!"

He started to hum to himself, as if to tell me not he couldn't hear me, pushing the back doors the open, walking back on the patio, and then onto the lawn, not bothered by the rain drops that pelted our bodies. After a moment he stopped walking. I felt him shift my body on his shoulder, placing me back on the ground. He placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, grinning like a moron now. "What are you doing?" I asked slowly, pushing away the hair that was clinging to me because of the rain.

"Would you be mad if you fell into the pool by mistake?"

My eyes widened as I went to take a step back, slipping on the edge of something. My arms shot out as I heard myself scream, grabbing fistfuls of his 'Misfits' t-shirt, pulling us both back into the pool, the bitter cold water surrounding our bodies.

I pushed myself to the surface, gasping to breath, letting go of Billie Joe. I groaned, wiping the water from my eyes, now having the rain still pelt down on me. "Billie Joe!" I cried out angrily, coughing, watching as he came above the surface.

I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering. Billie Joe coughed, and despite the fact that we were both cold as hell now, he laughed. He wade through the water, wiping the freshly fallen raindrops from his eyes along with his hair. "You weren't supposed to take a step back, baby. I was supposed to pretend to push you in and then catch you."

"You should have told me you put me on the edge of the pool!"

He laughed, wrapping his arms around my back, pulling me against him, our bodies clinging to each other. "You're shivering like hell."

"I k-know." I stammered, clutching fistfuls of his shirt once again, before laughing lightly to myself, "Why the h-hell do you think I-I own mo-re sweaters and jeans than any-thing?"

"You're a cold little chick."

I nodded my head, letting him pull me over to the side of the pool, lifting us out of it, rubbing my bare arms, me only having a tanktop on. He laughed lightly, pressing his lips to my own sweetly. "Wanna go to the bedroom to warm ourselves up?"

I giggled, not knowing if he understood that although he probably didn't mean to it sounded dirty. "Y-yeah."