Mornings like this one were always your favorite kind—ones where the blinds filtered the harsh morning light to make it nothing more than a hazy glow spilled across your floor, where the only sounds you could hear were rustling from early morning joggers and Nick's soft snores (which he refused to believe he had), one where your heart beat syncopated with your partner's pulse, slow and steady and rhythmic. You had almost convinced yourself you were still asleep as it was all too good to be true; lazy days in the Amaro household were few and far between, between your dually demanding jobs, days Nick got to spend with his children, and the multitude of chores any responsible homeowner had to keep up with.
Your lazy days held the promise of early morning sex and an overzealous brunch with French toast and waffles and orange juice; they were coveted, and thankfully, it seemed like today would shape up to be one of those days. It was a Sunday, one where neither you nor Nick were scheduled to work; Maria had taken Zara to a family reunion out of town this weekend, pushing visitation back a week; and you had spent your Saturday night cleaning the apartment and making a mess of the bed sheets, leaving no chores for you and Nick to do.
You were enjoying watching the time tick on, the clock slowly changing from seven to seven thirty to....
You hadn't even gotten the chance to reach eight when Nick's phone went off. Your boyfriend groaned, his left arm lifting itself from its spot on your waist as he rolled onto his back. Without opening his eyes, he fished around on his night stand before finally grabbing his phone and lifting it to his ear.
"Amaro," he answered, voice still rough from sleep. His eyes finally opened as he listened to the voice on the other end of the phone, shooting you an apologetic glance as you watched him expectantly. "Yeah, I got it, Liv. I'll be there."
With a sigh, he hung up, tossing the phone on the bedside table. He turned to face you again as you wrapped your arm around his neck, fingers twiddling with the short strands of hair at the nape. "You have to go." It wasn't a question so much as a statement.
He nodded, frown lines etched in his forehead as he pressed his lips to yours quickly. "Carisi got a hit on the license plate," Nick frowned. "He and Rollins are on their way to apprehend the guy; Liv wants me and Carisi to question him."
You nodded as he rolled out of bed, running a hand through his messy hair before approaching the bathroom. "Well you can tell Carisi that he owes you big time," you called after him, lying back on the sheets as you looked up at the ceiling.
"Why's that, belleza?" He asked. You could hear the shower turn on as the water began to run. You heard his feet hit the floor of the shower before the curtain rustled as he pulled it into place again.
"Well," you sighed, pursing your lips as you took a strand of hair between your fingers, fiddling with the split ends. "I was planning on waking you up with some head, but that plan's been busted."
"Were you?" His voice faltered as he tried to get ready uninterrupted.
"Yeah, Nicky," you pouted. "I was going to crawl under the covers and wrap my mouth around your head and get you going in seconds. And soon you'd be hitting the back of my throat while I gag around you and—"
Nick's groan from the shower cut your rant short, and you looked up, amused although you couldn't see what he was doing—though you had a good idea. "Baby?" You teased. "You okay in there? You need me to join you?"
He let out another grunt, but this one sounded more frustrated. "I'm going to fucking kill Carisi."
The sentiment remained throughout the entirety of the longest day of Nick's life. Anytime Sonny so much as breathed in Nick's direction, the older detective shot daggers at him. Anytime Nick's phone went off, he'd glare at Sonny. Anytime Liv announced they could leave after "five more minutes," Nick looked like he wanted to beat Sonny with a rock. And, Christ, Sonny knew that Amaro wasn't all that fond of him, but he didn't realize Nick hated him so much.
