Work Text:
You held the door handle, slowly pushing it as you noticed it started to creak. You sighed, finally getting the warm wafting air of your beloved home, you could hear the fireplace crackling, and the smell that came with it, the burning wood, a scent that oddly comforted you.
As you were about to place your shoes in the cubby near the door, you noticed, your husband, Sova's shoes were already placed. Strange.
Usually, you were the one to be home earlier, but as you lifted your wrist up to your face, staring at your watch, you did realize you came home later than usual.
You took off your platforms, slipping it in the shoe cubby, relieved to be free out of your work dress code
As you walked down the hallway, walking towards your bedroom, you heard the familiar voice after passing the living room.
"(Y/N), you are late.”
You slightly walked backwards, facing the living room, the fireplace crackled, the decorations hung nicely, framed pictures of close family, and... there he is. Sova slouching on an armchair, his white shirt wrinkled, his hair damp from what seemed like a recent shower.
He looked like he had been waiting for you... But not impatiently.
"Yeah," you breathed, setting your bag down to the coffee table. "long day."
Sova tilts his head slightly, watching you from the armchair with that unreadable look of his. You could already tell, he’d been sitting there for a while.
“I sent you multiple messages, malyshka. Did you not bother to check them?” As much as he always tried to hide it… the concern was evident, in both his voice and face.
You picked up your phone, opening his chatbox and seeing all the worried texts.
'Hey, don't forget to eat lunch'
'And drink water'
'Hey, just checking on you.'
'Hello??? are you there?'
'When are you coming home?'
'I'm getting worried. Permission to call.’
- 3 Missed Voicecalls -
You just stared at it, whispering to yourself, 'Damn... I mean, fuck.'
"Sorry, it's just... work, ya know?" You sank on the couch, groaning softly. “Meetings. Reports. Half the team couldn’t even bother to submit their files on time, and guess who had to chase them down?”
His gaze lingered, watching you slowly slump against the cushions. He gave a humm before his response. “Shouldn’t the manager be doing all of that?”
You rolled your eyes, “They’re a manager, do you think they come to the office every day?”
His lips let out a small chuckle, “You make a point.”
The room fell silent as his chuckle died down, setting the room in an awkward place.
After a moment, your phone buzzed, and you eventually picked up your phone, checking some notifications from work, and a surprise, one of your co-workers calling.
You hurriedly said while standing up, “Sorry, I need to pick up this call.”
He spoke quietly, “Do you really have to?”
You hesitated for a moment, letting your phone buzz in your hand. Then, you glanced at him. “It’s just a quick call, shouldn't take too long.”
He sighed softly, “You said that last time.” you felt his concerning eyes gaze over you, “I do not want to argue, but why don't we spend some time together? We’ve both been having some late shifts, and we barely seen each other this week.”
You swallowed, holding the weight of both his words and work. The phone continued buzzing, feeling somewhat heavier than before.
“I know,” you whispered with a slight whine, lowering your gaze with guilt, “I’m sorry, I just- Work’s just been really overwhelming lately.”
Sova’s eyes softens as he stared at you, taking a few seconds before his response, sighing. “I understand, I don’t want to force you.”
You took a deep breath, freezing in place with the buzzing phone in your hand. “…You know what, you’re right. I should focus on me— on us.”
He chuckled softly, “you sure u don’t wanna pick up that phone call?”
You hesitated, then nodded, pressing the ‘decline’ button displayed on the screen, then finally placing your phone in the pocket of your Levi’s. “The manager can handle it.”
Sova smiled, slightly.
But it was real.
The kind of smile that wasn't quite a smile, but the kind you see when he melts in your arms, when he shows his vulnerability, and warmth. It wasn't all just about a big grin…
You picked up your bag, lifting it off the coffee table. His arm came up instinctively, wrapping around you.
The fire crackles in the background, casting a warm flickering orange hue in the room. For a moment, the only sound that remained in the room was the sound of both of your breaths overlapping.
You smiled then giggled softly as he wraps his arms around you.
“I can give you a massage, if you’d like.” he said, “You seem tired.”
You huff a tired laugh. “Honey… you always say that.”
Of course he’d offer a massage. You weren’t even surprised anymore. That was just so Sova, the acts-of-service type. While some partners brought home flowers or wrote cheesy texts, his love spoke through warm hands and small yet so meaningful gestures, though, you didn't hate it.
“Because it’s always true.” he said, his tone playful. “Can’t I just do something for my lover for once? Or will (Y/P) not let me?”
You waved your hand, shaking your head, “No, no. I’m fine, really, I just need to sit for a minute.”
He stared at you with a look that says everything you needed to know. He knew you better than you knew yourself, you sighed and slightly chuckled, a small exhausted laugh. “Well…” you said, holding his hand and giving it a small squeeze, “Can I atleast change into some comfies first?” I’d rather get a massage in the bed.”
“Very well. Go ahead.”
By the time you walked out the bedroom bathroom, returning in your baggy torn shirt, the bedroom was already prepared. The only source of light being the bedside lamp that casted a warm yellow glow, you could hear the engine of the air purifier that was turned on, you saw the bottle of lotion sitting neatly on the nightstand.
Then, there was none other than your husband sitting in his side of the bed, facing the opposite direction.
You smiled, chuckling to yourself, “Wow, someone’s serious about this.” you teased as you climbed onto the bed.
He turned his head around to reveal a smirk. “I learned from last time.” he said. “You ready?”
“Mm, I’m scared already.” you teased.
You stretched your body in the bed, yawning. Sova reached the nightstand, holding a small bowl, then stared at the shirt you were wearing.
“Oh, that shirt, again.” he muttered. “You are somewhat attached to that shirt, yes?”
You looked down at yourself, it was an old graphic band tee, torn in the sleeves, the neckline frayed due to your pet biting it off. The design fading from years of washing, well… the clothing choice wasn’t exactly flattering.
“Yeah…” you rubbed your nape, “I know it’s a mess, but I can’t throw it out.”
He moved closer, slightly holding the hem of the shirt, “Hm, I remember this. You wore it when we met, didn't you?”
You smiled, “Yeah, all the time basically. And if I remember it correctly, on our third date.”
“I’m not sure how to put it into words but,” he hummed in hesitation, “It’s very… you. But of course, you can get comfortable, you don't need to wear armor around me.”
“Of course.” You peel the shirt off, folding it neatly before placing it on the nightstand.
Sova, still keeping his gaze on you, looked at you not with hunger, but awe. Like, you were something to be protected.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he said with a smile.
You tilted your head, grinning with a sarcastic eye roll. “It’s just a shirt, and… and besides…”
Your breath caught for a second as you noticed.
He, too, was comfortable in his usual attire. He had no shirt, leaving him with nothing but a pair of loose flannel sweatpants, dark navy and low on his hips. His chest was toned, years of training clearly evident in his abs and his muscles.
His wasn't overly sculpted like a model, no, but his body was real… built from years of work and dedication, every detail was just a chefs kiss. And, the cherry on top? The softest curve of slight love handles.
Even though you'd seen him like this countless times before, each time always brings you back to that first moment you saw him bare. You couldn't help but get flustered and fuck up your words.
“Well… L–Look at you, right?” You stammered.
Sova raises and eyebrow, a blush appeared on his face as he saw your flustered expression. “What about me?”
You scoffed, looking away in embarrassment, “You–just… Shut up.” you mumbled.
He chuckled, “You are the one staring.”
You turned your head, burying your face halfway into the pillow. “I wasn't.”
“Mm. Of course not.” he murmured as he straddled behind you, pumping the bottle of lotion into the small bowl, mixing it with another ingredient.
Warm hands settled on your shoulder as it spread the massaging cream all over your back, slowly and carefully caressing your skin.
You exhaled a long shaky breath. “God, I didn’t even know my back hurt this bad.”
“I could tell,” he said with his voice low and calm, “Is this the spot?” he said as his fingers pressed on your nape.
You sighed in relief. “Yeah it does.”
He asked, “Does this help?”
“It does,” you mumbled into the sheets, “although, minus your sandpaper hands.”
He stopped.
You opened your eyes halfway, realizing what you said. “Wait- Wait. That wasn't a complaint, don't take it the wrong way.”
He was silent, staring down at his hands for a moment before responding. “I am aware, love, they are too rough. I’ve been applying lotion, but… perhaps it is not working.”
“No, no,” you said quickly, twisting your body slightly to look at him, “It’s not a bad thing… You’ve got a life, you know? It’s… it’s you. I like it. I love all of you.”
You said, trying to reassure him, but with the panic evident in your voice? It didn’t exactly sound so assuring.
Well, of course, he is living a life. Plus, due to practicing archery all his life, and growing up in tundras where the cold temperatures are not something a normal human could handle, his hands would no doubt would be rough and calloused.
You cleared your throat as you felt his gaze lingering at your back, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Um… Hey, did I tell you that Nancy spilled coffee on the printer again? The third time this month. Swear to God, at this point she’s either cursed or doing it on purpose…”
Sova blinked, “Nancy, huh.”
“Yeah. Her dumbass tried to dry it with a hairdryer this time. I was ready to call the fire department.”
He hummed, gently working his hands on your shoulders again. “Your office sounds more dangerous than the field.”
You sighed in relief as the subject changed, the awkwardness was finally gone, although, the guilt continued to linger.
One month later.
Another long day of typing emails, then the on and off calling with angry customers, Karen after Karen.
You kicked off your heels with a groan as you walked into your bedroom, pulling off your jacket, and tossing it across the room.
Sova sat in the bed, tucked in the blanket with his usual sweatpants-and-nothing attire and held a book. He looked up from his book as you entered, “Late again. You look like you came home from war.”
You didn't care if your bun was messy, or your face was messed up, you were just glad to be home. You flipped onto the bed. “I did. It’s called corporate.”
He chuckled softly as he closed his book and placed it beside the lamp in his night stand. “Massage?”
You raised a hand, giving a thumbs up. “Just give me a couple of minutes to prep up.”
As you stepped out the bathroom, wearing your comfort pants, and nothing but your upper undergarments. You sat on the bed, stretching before speaking. “Ready.”
He moved to sit beside you, his hands working good as usual. But the moment his thumbs pressed down, you felt something different.
It was… His hands, were.. softer…?
It’s not as soft, but softer than usual that made you notice. Just the right amount of softness and harsh texture.
You didn't dare to say anything, though. You didn't wanna make it a thing this time, because deep down, you knew he'd take the comment to heart. That he listened. And changed something so small… just for you.
So instead, you exhaled softly, and let your head sink into the pillow with a blush and a smile by the thought of it.
“Um, so…” you began casually, “Nancy messed up the wifi because she thought a slightly flickering light in the bathroom meant ‘danger’. So, she played around with the power box, and… yeah.”
Sova paused for a second, then continued to caress your skin. “Is she… trained for this job?”
“I ask myself that everyday.” You replied.
A quiet chuckle came from behind you. “You need to prepare an emergency hotline just incase… I honestly worry for you and that whole building.”
You smiled, the warmth of his hands settled on your skin. “You and me both babe.”