dominique luca oneshots

early mornings mishaps [ ❥ ]

The smell of smoke wasn't what Luca expected to wake up to on his first day off of the month, but then again there were very few things you could count on to be predictable in his life.

The sun filters in through the slatted blinds as he throws back the covers and climbs out of bed. Your side of the bed is empty, the sheets warm to the touch when he pats his hand across them. He's still trying to gather his bearings and as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, a loud crash comes from the kitchen and draws him back to his senses.

He pads down the hallway, rolling his shoulders in an effort to ease the stiffness that had set in over night. It had been late when him and Street had finally got out of HQ, and by the time he'd gotten home you were already fast asleep.

Even though this was a regular routine for you both - one of you coming home to find the other one asleep, and then waking up after they've already left in the morning - Luca feels a sinking feeling in his stomach at the realisation that he might've missed you on his only morning off.

That comes to a halt when he steps into the kitchen, and is faced with a strange sight. Flour covers the room from the far corner of the kitchen to where he's standing, and a film of smoke covers the room. Bowls and utensils covered in batter litter the kitchen counter and standing in the midst of it is you, with a dish towel thrown over your shoulder and a very haggard expression on your face.

"What- ", he stops dead in his tracks, his expression halfway between confusion and humoured as he takes in the scene, "What are you doing, baby?"

"I was trying to make pancakes, but it didn't exactly work out." You dust your flour-covered hands on the front of your ruined t-shirt, a defeated look on your face as you turn to him.

He laughs softly as he walks over to you. You open your arms pre-emptively and he walks into them, wrapping you up in his arms for what feels like the first time in forever. You tuck your head under his chin, and he hears you murmur something under your breath about not wanting to ruin him with all the flour.

"Like I mind", he says with a laugh. He pulls away from you, looking down at you with a smile as he swipes at a blot of flour on your cheek. "You gonna tell me what happened here, or are we gonna jump to the inevitable and blame Street?"

"I wanted to do something nice for you." You say sheepishly. "You've had it rough the last few weeks and we haven't been able to spend much time together, so I just wanted to do something."

Despite the smile on his face, your words pull at his heartstrings. He knew that the last few weeks had been tough on you too, but he hadn't thought you'd taken it too hard. The sad look in your eyes said enough, though, says more than enough.

"I know, honey", he soothes, running his hands up and down your sides. "I'm sorry. But it's out of both of our control, y'know? You don't have to do anything special when we are together. Just getting to be with you is more than enough."

That earns him a sweet kiss to the forget of his mouth, and then one to his cheek for good measure. You slip your arms around his waist and pull him close to you, looking at him adoringly as a blush grows on your flour-covered cheeks.

"If some time with me is all you're after", you say with a grin, "How do you feel about helping me clean up?"

He looks at you, a wry smile starting on his face. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I've got a feeling you're not talking about the counters."