Chapter 1
Lars
The bristles are askew. Not just askew, but askew in a different way than I last left them. That, paired with the fact that it was in a different slot in the cup than I always use, it doesn’t take Sherlock to figure out what happened.
I glance up into the steam fogged mirror at the sound of the shower curtain being pushed out of the way, just in time to see Jonah step out. The sight of water droplets clinging to his skin, pinked from the heat of the shower, his cock hanging half hard against his thigh almost has me too distracted to remember to be annoyed. His red hair is dark with water and slicked back out of his face, his large body covered in ginger body hair I never get tired of.
His gaze flicks over me with heat and interest, and after ten years together, I recognize that look well enough to know he’s considering bending me over the sink and starting our morning right.
“You used my toothbrush,” I state with annoyance before he can follow through on his line of thought.
His eyebrows scrunch together, and he tilts his head, giving the air of a confused dog.
“No?”
“Yes, you did. The bristles are all wonky, and it was in the front before and now it’s in the back of the cup.”
“Okay, fine. I might have used it; I’m sorry.” He shrugs, reaching for a towel off the rack, clearly unconcerned about his oversight.
“You’re not sorry.”
He throws his hands up and lets out a frustrated groan.
“Christ, you’re right. I’m not sorry. I don’t see why it matters. You shove your tongue in my ass; why can’t we share a toothbrush?”
“Yeah, I do,” I agree. “And after I tongue your ass, I brush my damn teeth, with my toothbrush.”
He snorts a laugh, coming up behind me and pressing his still damp body against my back. Resting his chin on my shoulder, he looks me in the eyes through the mirror.
“It really bothers you that much?” he asks more seriously.
“It really does.”
“Then, I am sorry. I’ll try to do better. On my way home from work I’ll stop and get you a brand-new toothbrush, and I won’t use it again.”
I turn my head and press a kiss to his stubble rough cheek.
“I’m sorry. I’m crabby this morning,” I sigh. “We’re short staffed this week, and it’s been a nightmare.”
“It’s okay. I love you even when you’re crabby,” he assures me, his lips trailing down my neck.
“Love you too.”
When he pulls away, I want to be annoyed by my now damp clothes but watching him walk away in nothing but a towel makes it impossible to feel anything but lucky to have such an incredible man in my life. Sometimes it’s hard to believe we’ve already been together ten years. Actually, that’s not really accurate, we’ve been partners, lovers, boyfriends…pick a label, it doesn’t matter to me what we’re called. But we’ve been together since birth. Our mothers are best friends, and we were born only two months apart. There are pictures of our moms with their pregnant bellies pressed together, big smiles on their faces. So yeah, we’re lifers. And, as much as I don’t dig labels, there is one I’ve been thinking more and more about lately…husband.
“You want me to make you some toast or anything?” he calls, bringing another smile to my face.
“Sure, thanks.”
Yup, things with Jonah are completely perfect. Nothing could ever rock the solid foundation we’ve built.
Jonah
I slather butter and raspberry jam on two pieces of toast and set the plate at the table for Lars before glancing at the clock and feeling a familiar twinge of anxiety about running late. I’m not running late, to be clear, but what if there’s more traffic than usual this morning? What if I go out to leave and my car doesn’t start? What if…
“You’re fine, I already checked traffic on my phone, and it’s lighter than usual this morning,” Lars says as soon as he steps into the kitchen and notices my pinched expression.
“Thanks for checking that for me.” It eases my anxiety significantly but doesn’t erase it.
“Sit with me for a few minutes before we have to leave?”
I nod, pulling out the chair across from where I set his breakfast and sliding into it.
“How much longer are you supposed to be short staffed?” I ask.
“Today should be the last day. Three of my techs went to a continuing education conference in Florida this week, so I’ve had to make do with one tech and a couple of assistants. Normally, it would be doable, especially since Seb is the tech I was left with, but it seems like I’ve had one emergency after another all week— lacerations, emergency c-sections, radiographs for foreign body ingestions. Hopefully, today will be quieter. I’d kill for eight hours of routine physicals and vaccines.”
“There must be something in the air this week because the ER has been busy too. Yesterday, I had a guy who cut off three fingers with a table saw.”
Lars winces.
“At least you’re not the surgeon; all you do is slap a Band-Aid on shit and hand out aspirin.” He ribs me with a wink.
“At least my patients don’t lick their own asses,” I counter with a smile.
The playful argument is a familiar one, ever since I got into med school and Lars decided on veterinary school, we’ve had an ongoing rivalry about whose job is harder and more important.
“Please, you know you’d lick your own ass if you could,” Lars points out.
“True, but luckily I have to keep you around to handle that for me.”
“Is it just me, or are we talking a lot about eating ass this morning?”
“We definitely are,” I agree. “I guess it’s a sign our cuddle time tonight should be naked and preferably sticky.”
“Pretty sure that’s fucking, not cuddling.”
“Count me in,” I waggle my eyebrows, and Lars laughs.
“At least I’ll have something to look forward to today when my day inevitably goes to shit.”
“Good.” I crane my neck to check the time and then stand up with a sigh. Leaning over the table, I press a quick kiss to Lars’ lips. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Have a good day,” he calls as I walk out of the kitchen.
“You too,” I shout back.