Work Text:
If there was something those last years of living with Matt had taught Augustus, it was definitely the signs that his husband wasn’t feeling well—signs that, frankly, weren’t that hard to catch if one paid attention for more than five seconds. Matt had many self-assigned middle names, yet ‘subtlety’ was not one of them.
So when Matt joined him in bed for the night, groaning at the mere effort of slipping under the covers, Augustus knew something was up.
“Is… everything okay, babe?” He asked tentatively, looking away from his book.
To his question, Matt simply grumbled as he managed to lie next to him; even then, he seemed to struggle finding a good position to stay in, turning and tossing when he could fall asleep in two minutes tops if given a pillow and a vaguely comfortable spot under usual circumstances.
“Alright, what’s going on with you?” Augustus sighed as he put his book down.
“Nothing,” Matt hissed. “Mind your business.”
All Augustus had to do was arch an eyebrow, showing his husband he wasn’t impressed nor convinced in the slightest, and Matt’s behavior shifted.
“Fine,” he sighed, throwing his head back dramatically. “My back hurts.”
“That’s all? Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because—ugh, whatever! It doesn’t matter!”
“It does matter, dumbass,” Augustus said, rolling his eyes. “Stay here; I’ll be right back.”
Getting out of bed despite its warmth, he speed-walked to their bathroom to grab one of the lotions in the cabinet before regaining the bedroom. When he saw Matt’s curious eyes, he just sat back next to him in bed and showed him the bottle he had picked.
“It’s a little something that helps with sore muscles. I don’t use it much anymore, but it really helped when I still played flyer derby.” Augustus then nodded in his direction. “Come on, lie down on your stomach.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Funny thing is, I wasn’t asking for your opinion. Take your shirt off and lie down.”
Matt muttered something under his breath but did as he was told anyway; grunting at the effort, he got rid of his shirt, leaving it somewhere on the ground, and managed to lie on the mattress. Tying his hair up so it wouldn’t get in the way, he then borrowed one of Augustus’ pillows to be more comfortable and waited for his husband’s touch.
Straddling his thighs, Augustus didn’t waste any time and went to work; he rolled his sleeves up, then poured a generous amount of lotion in one hand before tossing the bottle next to him on the bed. When he put his hands over his husband’s warm skin, the latter jumped in surprise.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” Matt yelped.
“Sorry,” Augustus chuckled in response. “It warms up after a while.”
Once his husband managed to relax, Augustus’s hands started wandering all over Matt’s back, pressing a bit harder against the knots in his muscles. His thumbs made circular motions near his spine; gentle, but precise. It wasn’t the first time he had given him a massage (although the context had been wildly different so far), and while he couldn’t consider himself an expert on the matter, he had a pretty good idea which parts would provide temporary relief to the construction witch.
He looked up at what he could see of Matt’s face and smiled to himself. Now that he had him at his mercy, a part of him wanted to tease just a bit, but he decided against it; his lover needed to be taken care of, not tortured. Even if seeing him in such a vulnerable position was really tempting.
“Uh… go lower?” Matt asked after a while.
Augustus hummed and complied, moving his hands to his lower back; here, he applied more pressure, to which Matt groaned and buried his face into one of the pillows. He bent over to kiss one of his shoulders and nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck.
“So? Does it feel good?”
“…Whatever.”
Right, he hadn’t expected him to fully admit defeat just yet. He straightened back up and snorted at the whine escaping Matt.
“You must have pulled something at work,” Augustus said, shaking his head. “Seriously, why didn’t you tell me you were hurting sooner?”
In response, Matt mumbled something that got muffled by the pillow under him.
“What was that?”
“I said I don’t wanna feel old!”
For a second, Augustus stopped moving, caught in pure disbelief.
“Matt, you’re forty-two. That’s hardly old.”
“Speak for yourself! The way some of my coworkers talk about me, I might as well have one foot in the grave already!”
Augustus made a mental note to have a civilized, psychological violence-free conversation with some of his coworkers tomorrow.
“I don’t wanna have backaches, because I don’t wanna accept getting older. Like, what’s next? Balding? Hell, I don’t even wanna think about that!”
As Matt let out a long sigh underneath him, Augustus’ shoulders dropped; his lover had had his ups and downs when it came to his body image since he had met him, and his aging seemed to have just unlocked a new insecurity. He should have seen it coming.
He brushed a strand of hair that had escaped its ponytail out of the way before applying more lotion on his own hands. From there, he started massaging the upper part of Matt’s back that had been neglected so far. The older witch let out a noise that resembled a choked-up groan.
“Like it or not, your back pains are still there. You can’t ignore them forever.”
“Sounds like a challenge.”
“Matt, no.”
When Matt let out a devilish cackle, Augustus couldn’t help but smile to himself. He leaned over again to leave another kiss at the nape of his neck, and he could almost feel him shiver under his lips.
“You’re prone to injuries like this where you’re currently working. That doesn’t mean you’re becoming a decrepit old zombie; it just means you need to be a little more careful.”
Matt scoffed at this, although he didn't try to argue. He probably knew Augustus was making a valid point, but his gigantic pride was in the way of admitting it out loud.
“Besides, it’s fine to age,” Augustus added. “I like the idea of you growing old by my side.”
Augustus chuckled at the visible signs of Matt’s embarrassment—if the blush creeping up to his neck was anything to go by. They went quiet for a bit longer while Augustus kept taking care of him, slow and patient.
Once Matt seemed to feel better, he sat back up while Augustus got off of him and grabbed a tissue to wipe his hands. Too comfortable in bed, he put away the lotion in his nightstand for now, figuring he would take it back to the bathroom another day—even though he was sure he would have forgotten about it by tomorrow.
“Look, if your backaches keep happening, I’ll go see a healer to get something stronger for you.”
At this, Matt shook his head. “Don’t bother; I will. I can’t expect you to do all the hard work for me.”
“It’s not really hard work when I want to take care of you.” Augustus left a quick peck on his cheek. “But alright. Just let me know how you feel tomorrow.”
As a silent agreement, they turned off their lights before getting comfortable in bed; Matt laid on his back first, joined by Augustus, who snuggled against his side. He hadn’t thought of putting his shirt back on, much to his enjoyment as he, once again, had an excuse to touch his husband’s bare skin. Grazing his fingers up and down Matt’s sternum, he looked up at him while repressing a yawn.
“I love you, freak,” Augustus hummed. “With your wrinkles, backaches, and everything else that comes with it.”
Despite the darkness, Matt offered him a grin that made his heart flutter.
“I love you too, loser.”