It's a bit dead here, ne? So, I decided to post the first chapter of a fic-in-process.
Stepping into his apartment and quietly closing the heavy door behind him as he removed his snow-covered coat, Luka Kovac sighed deeply. It had been a long night and he was more than glad to be home. The last nightshift in a row of seven with your typical night time ER activity had been enough to make him swear off the graveyard shift forever, but the payout had been enough to keep him going; two days off at the same time as Sam. Sure, the heated conversation he had had with Kerry to reach a result of his liking had put him on her assumedly lengthy black list for what he believed was probably a lifetime, but two days alone with Sam after over two weeks of having barely an hour a day together due to mismatching shifts was a deal he would not negotiate about. Alex was on a field trip with his class, so it would just be the two of them, spending some quality time together. Just what the Doctor ordered.
Removing his shoes; a habit he had yet to shed in America; he walked into the kitchen to pick up a beer from the fridge. Making sure the bottle was his and not Sam’s; as she preferred to drink some foamy substance that only went by the name of beer but actually tasted more like yeasty lemonade; he took a hearty glug while moving to the living room area as quietly as possible. Slumping on his favorite armchair, he grinned as his eyes found Alex’s latest school portrait in the dim room. It wasn’t framed yet, as the finished photos had only arrived a few days earlier, so it was resting against the other pictures on the shelf, partially covering Luka’s favorite photo of the three of them on a camping trip, all grinning widely. For the first time in years, he finally felt as if he was coming home from work; with Sam and Alex moving in, the place had become more than simply an apartment; it had finally become a place he could call home.
After taking a few more glugs and enjoying the warm, fuzzy feeling the photos had given him, he got up and tiptoed into the bedroom, placing the bottle on the nightstand, knowing fully well he would hear a lecture about it from Sam in the morning. The woman is question was asleep, curled up in a fetal position on her side of the bed. Her hair was tied back into two tight French braids; how anyone could sleep with one, let alone two braids that pulled on the skin on your face was a mystery to Luka, but then again, he had wondered the same when Danijela, his late wife, had insisted on wearing curlers to bed. At least Sam’s method of getting her trademark curls was less painful on him than Danijela’s if he happened to roll over in his sleep and find his face near his bedfellow’s head as in Sam’s case there was nothing spiky involved. Of course, Luka was often quite grateful for the braids, as he had woken up more often than he cared to remember with his mouth full of Sam’s wayward curls when she had simply been too tired after work to shower and braid her untamed mane. He had only seen her with straight hair a few times; well, not really straight, as her hair was slightly wavy naturally; and he didn’t understand why she bothered with the whole curling process every day, as he thought she looked perfectly fine, if not better, with lesser curls as well. But, it wasn’t like Luka could understand most of the obsessive tasks women performed on a daily basis as if they were religious rituals. He had seen actual nightmares about tweezers and eyelash curlers, and sometimes he just stood by the bathroom door, watching Sam torture herself with various extremely painful looking procedures and drown her face with five different lotions, thanking God he was born male.
Removing his shirt and pants, he huddled under the covers, instinctively moving to rest against Sam’s body. A content sigh escaped her lips and the corners of her mouth turned upwards when he pressed his lips against her cheek in greeting. Her eyes fluttered open and sought out Luka’s, glinting happily.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up,” Luka murmured, pressing his chin against Sam’s shoulder like he had grown used to doing ever since they began sharing the bed on a regular basis. Pressing his cheek against hers, he wrapped his arms around her body, smiling to himself when her tiny hands clasped his to hold him close to her.
“I’ll forgive you this time,” she muttered in a playful tone. “When did you come home?”
“About ten minutes ago.”
“What time is it?” Sam asked, letting go of Luka’s hand to rub her eyes.
Sam frowned, turning her head slightly so he could see Luka’s face, “Rough night?”
Luka sighed, kissing Sam on the lips gently, “The usual, I guess. I’m just tired, that’s all,” he answered, smiling at her. Sam nodded, moving her hand to rest on his wrist and pressing her cheek back against the pillow, “Ok. I vote we sleep, then.”
Luka nodded, pulling the covers to rest on both of them and pressing his body closer to Sam’s.
“Oh, and Luka?” she muttered, tapping his wrist.
“Try not to snore.”
Luka chuckled, muttering against her shoulder, “I won’t if you won’t,” bursting into laughter when she responded by kicking his calf lightly, whispering in a mock angry tone, “I don’t snore.”
Closing his eyes after planting one more kiss on Sam’s cheek, he began to fall asleep, smiling to himself as the familiar purr-like sounds began, letting him know Sam was asleep. Before he let sleep take over him as well, he murmured gently,
“Oh, yes, you do.”
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