#I'm not one of those amazing receive prompt produce fic writers

[thedevillionaire]

Where The Heart Is

So first there was this lovely scenario by @stealthy-sneezing and then I received this insanely flattering prompt from @you-dont-look-so-good and only, uh...three weeks later (LOL, speedy turnaround is an unreliable thing in these parts, I'm afraid) here's my attempt at a little fic based around it. --- Kia doesn’t greet him with her usual kiss good morning as she joins him in the kitchen; she does not, in fact, acknowledge him at all as she passes by. What sleep she’d managed to get had been restless and broken, for a start, and she’s still more than a little out of sorts over last night’s…

Fight?

She’s reluctant to use the term, even to herself. But there had nevertheless been some tensely exchanged differences of opinion, whatever term she gives it. They hardly ever argue and it weighs on her heavily, disproportionately.

She busies herself with breakfast-preparing activities, pointedly avoiding the dining bench where her bonded sits wrapped in a plush burgundy dressing robe and an almost tangible aura of bleariness which suggests that he didn’t sleep particularly well, either.

And there’s no question that he’s…not sounding his best.

Cerberus takes a sip of his steaming coffee, sniffles sharply and rubs his nose with firm frustration against the itch that’s been bothering him since waking, flicking his gaze momentarily across to Kia in a cursory attempt to ascertain her mood.

She very deliberately looks away.

Maybe, she thinks with more than a touch of snippiness as he sniffles again,you should have come home when you said you would. It’s totally possible to delegate sometimes, you know. Like, just once, even, maybe? And while she doesn’t Mindsend him her thoughts, she certainly wills them into the aether. Just a touch.

It’s not even about being late, though, she continues internally, making her point to herself with conviction as she peers into a second cupboard for the blackberry spread she can’t seem to find, I don’t care if you’re late, really, it’s about promising me for the third time this week that you wouldn…

The hitch in his breath severs her sentence momentarily but she doesn’t intend to…

“Huh-TSCHH-uu!”

Kia’s own breath catches a little, too, although she keeps her focus resolutely fixed on the cupboard’s interior; she does not want to engage right now and she’s not going to…

“Hh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-TSSCHHhuu! hh-hhH… Hh-AAHTSCH-uu!” Rapid and forceful, urgent, an increasing desperation evident, and she chances a peripheral glance at Cerberus, her ability to concentrate on anything else hijacked into a weighted anticipation almost as singular as his, despite her not wanting to…

A deep inhalation scissored and insistent, a frozen expectant moment and he gives in again to the maddening itch twice over. “Hhh… hh-TSSCHH-uu! Ah-hh-TSSCHH-uu!” Several sharp sniffles follow; he excuses himself reflexively, habitually, another sniffle following in short order, accompanied by a faintly exasperated sigh and snarlwhispered fuck’s sake.

“Bless you,” Kia says quietly, downplaying her usual heartwarm tone a touch but she doesn’t have it within herself to not acknowledge him. And she can’t help the twinge of concern she feels – or indeed any…other sort of interest – but she doesn’t want her resolve to weaken any further. Not yet, at least.

I’m still mad at you. Stop it.

He nods a perfunctory thankyou for the blessing; she hasn’t turned around so doesn’t notice.

The blackberry spread seems determined to remain unfound and she decides that muscat will do, or whatever’s in this jar, she thinks it’s muscat, it’s not important, really, whatever, does she even want toast, she just needs to…

The sound of a hurriedly claimed fresh succession of tissues being pulled from the box, and her focus dissolves anew.

“Hh-TSCHH-uu!”

And she can sense the expectation of recurrence in his shaky not-quite recovery, his breath unsettled, irregular, and god getting breakfast should really not take this much effort, maybe she’ll just have a cup of tea, this is ridiculous, and from the urgency of gasped inhalation she knows doubtless that he’s going to…

“Huh-AHSSCHuu! Ah-TSSCH-uu! Goddamn it, what the hell is…” Another series of sniffles follows and Cerberus blows his nose, wetly and ineffectively, and with no pause save for a suddensharp gasp, stifles a further sneeze immediately thereafter. “HXTchu! Ugh…” He groans and coughs convulsively from the effort, pushes disarrayed midnight from watering eyes, and growls an undertone of vexation. As if this morning wasn’t uncomfortable enough already.

He coughs again and clears his throat. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, wipes his nose several times, and sniffles again.

“Bless you,” Kia says again, only this time the words come true, sincere, empathic. There’s a resignation in her bonded’s voice that she’s unable to ignore, and her brow creases – something is clearly wrong, and her residual anger over yesterday’s events begins to fall aside in the face of genuine concern, and now she turns to face him.

He sighs heavily as his eyes meet hers. “I, um… *snf!* I don’t mean to disturb you.”

“You’re not disturbing me.” Well, you are, but… She closes the cupboard door, leans back against it, any remaining thoughts of breakfast forgotten. “What’s going on?”

“I have n…” His breath catches, but with controlled if shaky exhalation he manages to fight off the urge and stay on course. “I have no idea. Just can’t seem to… *snf!* Can’t seem to stop.” He looks at her with an expression somewhere between irritated chagrin and cautious detachment. “It’s alright. You don’t need t…to… hpt-XCH!” A quiet groan as Kia blesses him again and gently tells him not to stifle; he nods in agreement with her point as he returns to his own. “You don’t need to worry,” he finishes tiredly, taking another handful of tissues and blowing his nose again.

“Huh. You know,” Kia says, “I was actually trying not to, but… I don’t know, you’re not exactly making it easy or something.” She sighs quietly, not unkindly, and crosses the distance between them. “Okay, though, for real. What’s going on?”

:Karmic debt, perhaps?: Cerberus Mindsends, and offers her a darkly rueful smile as he vaporises the latest clutch of used tissues. “You didn’t secretly burn birchbark in here as revenge for last night, did you?” The sniffle following is intentionally pathetic; he runs an index finger along the underside of his nose and glances at his bonded with eyebrow arched in enquiry.

“Oooh.” Kia shakes her head, narrows her eyes at him as if in consideration, and smiles wryly. “You sure you want to give me ideas like that today?”

Cerberus manages a brief chuckle before his focus dissolves unstoppably stolen, relentless urgency returning and he capitulates to cresting need posthaste and absolute – powerful, emphatic, desperate. “Huh-hhAHTSSCHhuu! Ah-TSSCHH-uu! Gods! *snff!*” With a deep sigh, he pushes ebony heaviness from his eyes again, looks up to meet his bonded’s gaze in dishevelled and somewhat hazy self-deprecation. “And thus my brilliant plan to be as unobtrusive as possible this morning continues its wild run of success,” he remarks dryly, claiming a new couple of tissues with purposeful emphatic flourish and another sniffle.

And the last of Kia’s resistance falls away, her heart melting, any remnant vestiges of irritation and indignance cracking, fading, and none of it is important anymore. “It’s okay,” she murmurs, gentle, kind. “You know, I do still love you even when you’re totally wrong about stuff and it’s all your fault,” she adds playfully, then rolls her eyes with a light scoff and affected exasperation. “Wow, I really did mean to be mad at you for a bit longer than this, though.”

She smiles at her bonded, open and affectionate, and Mindsends him a tenderwarm :Bastard.:

Cerberus laughs quietly, sardonically, and wipes his nose. “Well, I’m certain I’ll not be coming home late tonight, in any case.”

Moving to stand behind him, Kia strokes a gentle hand through his hair, touches a kiss to the top of his head as he leans back into her embrace with an enervated soft hum of pleasure.

“Maybe just…maybe just stay home today, sweetheart.”

---