Work Text:
Silent Salt was tired.
It’s nothing new by any means, but this particular night, he’s run into Burning Spice Cookie. One of his ex-spouses who’s still very, very bitter over the divorce and being sealed away. But either way, Salt has managed to force the Beast of Destruction away and back to wherever he’s currently staying. Not like he cares enough to know anymore (not that he doesn’t still care for his ex-spouses to degrees, but he definitely no longer loves them like he once did). Sad really but times have changed.
Now, he’s basically stumbling back to the Faerie Kingdom because while he won the fight, it didn’t mean he didn’t take a beating. When he entered the house he’s taken up residency in recently, he shed his battered, dented and chipped armour. Letting them clash together with loud bangs that has probably awoken his poor wife. But honestly the exhaustion and injuries make him not think of that in the moment, instead he just wants out of said armour and into normal clothes because he misses that sense of normalcy. He needs it. He craves it. And now he’s married again (despite claiming he’d never marry again after the Virtues), happy with his wife— living together, in the same bed as often as they can do when their job doesn’t seem to get them in a chokehold they can’t shake free from.
Silent Salt drags himself through the house, almost barren if it wasn’t for his underwear and a shirt he wears underneath the armour. Moving on autopilot to the shower which was hot within seconds thankfully. Eased on his aching joints and painful muscles. It was so relaxing that he had to remind himself that he needs to go to bed, he can’t sleep in the shower. Unless he’d like questions in the morning. Spoiler alert: he wouldn’t.
One hot shower and the process of drying hair later (which takes a ridiculously long time, but his wife will castrate himself herself if he cuts his hair), Silent Salt was in bed. Dressed in a thin shirt and joggers, sliding into bed besides White Lily who had been fast asleep until the mattress dipped. One arm slid around the Faerie Queens waist as the Beast of Solidarity pressed the length of himself right against his wife’s back, burying his face into her neck and just… deflating. The pressure, expectations and stress left his shoulders in seconds. It was like a switch was flicked.
”I didn’t mean to wake you.” Silent Salt muttered into her dough. Chest pressed right against her back like he always did when he returned home. He just needs his wife to hold at the end of a harsh day.
”It’s fine,” White Lily murmured, shifting until she was facing her husband. Hands gently cupping his face. She could see the bruises already forming, but she didn’t ask because when they were going to bed all talk of work disappeared, because it’s their unwind time. “Thank you for protecting the kingdom.”
Silent Salt nodded, then dipped his head down just to rest his face on his wife’s breasts. Arms around the waist, completely going boneless as White Lily stroked his hair, gently massaging his scalp. It relaxes him just like a cake hound getting belly scratches. “I love you.”
”I love you too,” White Lily hummed.
Then suddenly the mattress dipped again, and if the married pair opened their eyes there was a 8-year-old Red Velvet and a 3-year-old Matcha stood at the foot of the bed.
”Mother.” Red Velvet says. Glaring at Silent Salt who just groans as he moves onto his back, grumbling as the two small children immediately take their place between the two adults.
Matcha nuzzled into her mother’s chest, fast asleep within seconds. She had been rubbing her eyes anyways. And Red Velvet tried to stay close to his mum, but was also staying close to his baby sister who he’s always been over protective of. White Lily (more than use to this routine by now) just moved to her other side, putting an arm over her two children. Smiling at Salt who just nods, putting a pillow over his face so he could doze off after a long day of being on his feet constantly.
But, for what it’s worth, Silent Salt would do this job forever if it meant coming home to this small, not-quite-perfect family at the end of every day.