Author:
rivlee Title: Your Arms Feel Like Home
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Nasir, Agron. Agron/Nasir.
Summary: This is how Nasir ends his first day as a civilian. Part of the Modern!AU. Background fic drabble.
Disclaimer: This is all fiction based off the characters as portrayed in the Starz television series Spartacus. No disrespect or harm is meant or intended. Title from 3 Doors Down.
A/N: Unbeated. So much fluff it will make your stomach ache.
Nasir Karimi was exhausted. It’d been two days since he saw home. How he made the drive back to D.C. without crashing would forever remain a mystery. He started the shift as a corpsman and ended it as a civilian nurse for the Navy. His body ached in places it hadn’t since Afghanistan. He needed a shower, two days of sleeping, and a muscle relaxant. He never questioned why he decided to do this though.
It was worth it for the sake of the man currently sprawled over their couch. Five years ago he was standing over Lieutenant Junior Grade Agron Metzger in the aftermath of an IED explosion as a whole fucking platoon of SEALs stared him down as if they could make the bleeding stop by will. Nasir still wasn’t sure if that wasn’t part of it. He was good at triage, but Agron shouldn’t have survived such a wound.
Not that it kept him grounded long. A year later he was back in-theater and Nasir was treating his wound that almost went gangrene before he sought out medical attention. Somewhere between Nasir cursing out the now Lieutenant Metzger for a being a fucking idiot and forcing an iv in his arm, Agron pulled him down and shoved his tongue down Nasir’s throat. There were worst starts to relationships Nasir was sure, but having met the rest of the Metzger clan, he realized theirs followed the status quo for the family.
Agron cracked an eye open as Nasir stumbled through the door. He just smiled and held his arms out. Usually Nasir bitched about Agron’s shoes being on inside the house, but he was too fucking tired. He collapsed on top of Agron’s chest and murmured a greeting into the worn fabric of his t-shirt.
“So, you’re officially a civilian now,” Agron said. He tangled his fingers in Nasir’s short hair. “What are you going to do first?”
“Grow my hair out.”
Agron laughed and nuzzled the top of Nasir’s head. “And after that?”
“Marry you. I want our wedding pictures to look decent, not with me halfway through a high-and-tight and a headful of curls.”
“Did you just propose to me?”
“Please,” Nasir scoffed, “like we were ever going to do anything else.” He yawned and dug his chin into Agron’s collarbone. “Besides, you did it first when you switched over to civilian life. Or did you forget that in the haze of booze your siblings poured down your throat?”
Agron’s laugh was deep, shaking Nasir from his comfortable spot. The kiss he received in apology only slightly mollified him.
“I vaguely remember singing you a naughty limerick and then proposing with a replica of the One Ring, yes,” Agron agreed.
“Don’t forget that time you had food poisoning and started quoting Marlowe at me until I brought you popsicles.”
“You brought me the good sherbet too. Anyone would’ve proposed to you in that moment.”
Nasir buried his smile in Agron’s neck. He could feel himself drifting off to sleep, but it was okay. There was nowhere safer in the world than right here.
“Go to sleep, love,” Agron whispered, fingers massaging Nasir’s neck.
Nasir used the last of his energy to press a kiss to his skin, breathing in his scent, and gladly drifted off to sleep guided by the strong and steady rhythm of Agron’s heart.