Miki’s side while he crouched and scratched at the dog’s wiry coat, sending Dude into a crooning frenzy. The canine overdosed on Miki’s affection within thirty seconds, excitedly zooming away to go stand on the back of the couch and bark.
Miki straightened up, and Kane took him into his arms.
There was more of Miki now. He was healthier and carried a bit more muscle than he had when Kane first met him. Physical therapy helped with his mobility, and while he still liked to lose himself in long walks through Chinatown, he also joined Damien every other day or so in the gym he and Sionn put in their warehouse.
His hair was longer, streaked a bit of gold from being out in the sun, and there was less suspicion in his luminous hazel eyes, but as long as they lived, Kane was fairly certain nothing was ever going to blunt his husband’s feral nature.
Kane wouldn’t have it any other way.
Miki was gentle with him, curving into Kane’s torso and burying his face into Kane’s chest. The dog quieted after a few more happy yips, settling back down into the couch when Kane playfully frowned at him. Miki smelled of the blustery wind outside, a hint of road dirt and a dash of diesel, but underneath it was the erotic aroma of a mostly clean, barely housebroken musician.
As if he could share Kane’s thoughts, Miki finally murmured in his whiskey-rough beautiful voice, “God, I fucking love how we smell when we’re together.”
“Ah, I’ve missed you, Mick,” Kane whispered, cupping his husband’s chin and tilting his face up so he could stare into the eyes of the man he’d fallen for, despite his common sense telling him otherwise. “It’s good to have you home.”
He kissed Miki like he was a drowning man searching for air. It was one of those moments Kane needed to etch every sensation into his memory, needing to relive every homecoming Miki gave him. He took his time. Kissing Miki was worth every second he devoted to it, and when Miki’s arms came up, his long fingers stroking down Kane’s back, he lost himself in his husband’s mouth.
Cupping the back of Miki’s head, Kane pressed his thumb to the base of Miki’s ear, his hand buried in the silken strands of his hair as he rubbed small circles across the soft skin behind Miki’s lobe. His husband sighed, the tension slipping away from his lean body, giving himself over to Kane’s touch.
Within moments the air grew too hot, trapped between them, and Kane longed to strip every inch of clothing from Miki’s body, but he knew his husband too well. Food had probably been something quick grabbed on the run and more than likely hadn’t been very filling. Although tasked to make sure their singer ate on a regular basis, the band often acquiesced when Miki told them to fuck off. He didn’t like being told what to do, even at the expense of his health, and there was only so much bullying he would take, even from his brother, Damien.
“I made you lunch,” Kane murmured, breaking their kiss but holding Miki close. “When was the last time your stomach’s walls weren’t touching?”
“I had a latte this morning. That shit’s got enough milk in it so it should count as yogurt.” Undeterred, Miki slid his fingers down the back of Kane’s waistband, tracing the lines of his muscles with a delicate touch. “I’m not hungry for food.”
“You have to get something in you so I can keep you up all night,” Kane laughed, reluctantly pulling away. “Besides, it’s Christmas Eve, remember?”
“I know, that’s why we’re home,” Miki snorted. “I just got rid of the band. Why do I have to have them in the house again?”
“Tradition, Mick. Mom and Dad have all of the kids, and the eight of us get together to drink and be merry for one night a year,” Kane reminded him. “Let me make sure the mac and cheese is warm enough. Mom dropped it off this morning.”
“So you really didn’t make lunch,” Miki scoffed, toeing his sneakers off. “What else did she drop off?”
“Succotash. I waited until she was around the corner before I took it out to the dumpster,” he replied, smirking at Miki’s grimace. “How was Vegas?”
“Vegas-y,” he shot back, leaning over the couch to give Dude another ear rub. “Lots of lights, lobster for breakfast, and I was glad it’s the second to the last show. Just one more here