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Karl beat Ethan to bed.
It’s not like it never happened. It was just a rare enough occurrence between Ethan taking care of Rose and Karl getting lost in his projects. He was prone to insomnia and liked to burn away the hours and discomfort by tinkering and welding and generally tearing things apart, just to put them back together. Some nights Ethan would come pull him away from his work with soft words and convincing hands, pulling them down together into bed. Other nights Karl found Ethan waiting for him, even sometimes with Rose, the bed warm and inviting.
But that night Karl was the first one to bed, and the sheets felt cold and strange without Ethan there to warm them.
Rose had gone to bed hours ago, and Karl would never leave her alone in the house, workshop be damned. So he had done the household chores, and fiddled with the baby monitor, and fixed up every loose screw and squealing hinge he could find. He stopped himself just short of tearing the stovetop out and rebuilding it. His fingers itched, but he forced himself to shower and turn in. There was nothing to do.
He missed Ethan.
It was one thing to be alone but know that someone was waiting for him at home, and another to be the one doing the waiting. Karl had never really had a home before. He’d certainly never had anybody waiting for him, or to wait on. He found he quite liked it. Home, that is, not tossing and turning because somehow, he couldn’t sleep by his damn self anymore.
Finally, halfway into the fitful beginnings of dozing, he heard the click of the front door. Tense for a moment, but unwinding once he heard Ethan’s footsteps quietly shuffle through the house. Kitchen first, then to Rose’s room, and then to their bedroom door. It creaked slightly as Ethan tipped it open. Karl kept his eyes shut against the sliver of golden light, and the door closed again. Ethan could never see in the dark as well as Karl, he must have thought he was sleeping. The shower started up, and Karl contented himself with sinking deeper into the pillows, that sticky, itchy feeling crawling back down his spine and slinking away with the knowledge that his partner would be in bed soon.
…
“Karl.”
Oh, thank god, the bed was finally warm.
“Baby, did you fall asleep?”
Sleep? No, he was waiting for-
“Ethan.”
The man himself was halfway under the covers as he huffed out a laugh, leaning down to kiss the corner of Karl’s mouth. Karl responded by pulling him tight into his arms, nuzzling and pressing soft kisses against the side of Ethan’s neck to hear that sound again.
“I missed you.” Karl murmured. Ethan’s arms wrapped around him and he tucked his chin over Karl’s head.
“I missed you too. I’m sorry I was out so late, was Rose okay for you?” Ethan spoke into Karl’s hair, breath tickling his scalp.
“Course she was, me n’ her get along swell.” Karl didn’t waste much time in replying. Rose was easy as pie as far as toddlers went, and right now he was too distracted trying to absorb Ethan into his own body to placate unnecessary fretting.
Karl ran his hands up and down Ethan’s back, fingers slipping under the loose cotton t-shirt so he could slide them over skin, brushing knuckles along his ribs and over scars. Ethan’s skin was delightfully warm from the shower, and Karl greedily took it in, feeling goosebumps start to prickle under his touch. Ethan melted like putty, leaning back a little and taking Karl’s face in his hands, smoothing over his beard and scratching from behind his ears and down to his scalp. They continued like that for a while, blinking lazily at each other and breathing each other in, making up for lost time.
Things usually delved into this at nighttime even when they spent the whole day together. When they were still new, Karl had learned that Ethan had always been naturally inclined to any kind of physical intimacy. Ethan told him how touch had begun to sour after Mia’s disappearance, and Dulvey. The Village had made things downright rotten, but he confided in Karl one night that, through it all, he had still craved it. Wanted nothing more than for someone to touch him without violence again. This made Karl feel guilty as all hell, but Ethan reassured him over and over that he no longer felt threatened by Karl’s touch. Trusted him enough to feel safe in his arms. Still, Karl touched the dimpled scar on Ethan’s stomach in a silent apology.
Albeit in a different way, Karl felt much the same as Ethan. There was a twisting hunger inside both of them that longed to be sated. But to Karl it felt...he felt raw. If Ethan was touch starved, Karl was desiccated . He had spent his entire life used until he barely recognized himself. Beaten down until his skin crawled with scars and he saw shadows in every corner and dead eyes in every face. And through it all, he had been alone. His faux siblings were just that; fake. Mother Miranda’s touch was not that of a real mother. It left nothing but bruises and phantom pains, cold touches that slithered through his very marrow. Keeping him awake at night. By the time Ethan came around, Karl barely knew how to use his body for anything but violence.
How could anyone else use his body for anything but violence?
Yet Ethan had taken him in, and taken him apart. And where Miranda left rotting roots, Ethan sewed new seeds of something like tenderness.
His touch never hurt.
Or rather, it did hurt, but in the way things do when you want them so, so desperately, and they’re finally given to you.
Karl longed for anything Ethan would give him.
Like right then, when Ethan was pulling his thumb over his cheekbone and scratching fingers into Karl’s hairline. He bent forward and kissed Karl again, this one more fully on the lips.
“You went away for a second there.” Ethan murmured, continuing his gentle pets. Karl quirked a smile at him.
“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you, and I might just kill you if I have to go to bed by myself again.” Karl said. Ethan snorted. “I mean it, maybe I’ll just tie you up here forever. I have the means, you know.” His voice came out as barely a growl. Ethan pinched his cheek.
“Sounds like fun to me.” He chirped. Karl sighed, and slipped a hand out from Ethan's shirt to rest it over the one on his cheek. He turned his head into Ethan’s palm and kissed it carefully. “Jeez, maybe I should stay out late more often, give you a taste of your own medicine.” Karl stuck his tongue out and licked a big wet stripe into Ethan’s hand. Ethan let out a dignified squeal and started kicking at his shins in retaliation, Karl trying to contain his laughter in favour of keeping Ethan’s hand pressed against his mouth.
They squirmed for a bit, Ethan finally giving in when Karl pinned him with his full deadweight and peppered kisses all over his face and neck. He still tried to wipe leftover spit on Karls’ face. Karl slid off him a bit and they faced each other once more, both now a little breathless and slobbery. Ethan let out a sigh and chuckled, picking up Karls hand again and biting the meat of his palm, grinning into it. Karl just let him, the blunt scratch of Ethan’s teeth silly but nice. He pressed a thumb into the teeth marks left behind and kissed his knuckles a few more times, before looking up at him.
“You sure you’re okay?” Ethan was still smiling, but his eyes were on Karl, somehow pleading and sharp at the same time. Karl pulled their hands in and traded his own kisses to Ethan’s knuckles, hoping he understood the gesture.
“Alles gut, schatz,” All good, darling . And he was. Karl rolled over onto his back, taking Ethan with him so that he settled into his shoulder. This was all he needed. But he feigned a long, forlorn sigh and put on his best melodramatic voice. “I’ve had a long day of being a lonely housewife, waiting for my dear hubby to come home," He cooed, "Makes a man tired, you know.” Ethan’s head almost clipped his beard as it whipped up.
“You were sleeping when I came in!” Karl laughed at the indignant look on Ethan’s face.
“Half asleep, liebling.” He reached up and patted Ethan’s flushed cheek, trying to pull him back down. Ethan squinted, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Come on, you know I can’t sleep without my liebes herz.” He winked, and Ethan rolled his eyes.
“Okay, okay, schlafmütze .”
“Hey, good one.” Ethan just grumbled at him and finally relented to Karl’s fingers pulling through his hair, tucking back into his shoulder. Karl felt lips press against his skin.
“Love you.” Ethan mumbled into his shoulder. Karl returned a kiss of his own into Ethan’s hair, whispering,
“Love you too,” then, tucking Ethan more firmly into his arms, “I mean it, schatz, about tying you up. You'll never leave this bed again.”
Ethan just grinned into his chest, folding even closer. They lay like that for a while, breathing becoming a synchronized rhythm, fingers drawing out gentle patterns on arms and necks and backs. Karl was almost asleep, a weightless feeling settling into him, when Ethan piped up again softly.
“Hey, Karl?”
“Mm.”
“Would you kill me if I had to pee?”