#howardsal

Howie who is supposed to be on shift till tomorrow. Howie who had been sent on a medical call with Hen cutting their phone call earlier short. Howie who is at their home and had transformed it into something magical.

The entire house smells like home in a nostalgic way. It smells like his Mama and Nona's kitchen's back in New York. Like garlic, fresh herbs, and love. There isn't a single harsh light on in the house, there are twinkle lights strung up all over the living room which had been turned into a giant blanket fort.

Sal is normally a pretty stoic guy, occasionally outburts of anger aside, so he blames his pregnancy hormones for the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Tears that he blinks back as best he can. Because one of Sal's favorite memories was creating elaborate blanket forts with his siblings and cousins as a kid, watching movies in those blanket forts before falling asleep in a giant Deluca family sleepover.

Sal thinks Howie has used every blanket they own, and some the dont, to construct the tent like blanket fort that takes up half of their massive living room making it feel small and intimate, like a tiny protective nest or burrow, just for their growing family with their insanely comfortable, over stuffed couch at the center of it and The Princess Bride qued up on the tv. Howie appears behind him holding two massive bowls of fresh home made spaghetti alla putttanesca.

That's what makes Sal lose the battle against his hormones and cry. Because Howie made his his comfort food, he can tell from the way the noodles are far from uniform only Howie could have made them.

"You're supposed to be at work." Sal cries lately, because it's easier to focus on that rather than everything Howie has done to make Sal's bad day better. Howie, his sweet, wonderful husband sets down the bowls of deliciously fragrant pasta before taking Sal's face between his hands, using the pads of his thumbs to tenderly wipe away Sal's tears.

"Bobby gave me the night off. My husband needed me more than the people of LA." Howie explained bringing Sal in for a gentle kiss.

"How did you even pull this off?" Sal asked with a sniffle, resting his exhausted, sore body against Howie's strong one. He can take the weight, and does it without complaining, his hands coming to the small of Sal's back gently massaging it.

"I had some help." Sal listens contently as Howie explains how Karen and Tommy had helped him move the couch and construct the tent like blanket fort, how Howie had FaceTimed his Mama and she had walked Howie through every step of her puttanesca recipe. Howie has come a long way as a cook, especially under Bobby's tutelage, but Sal is a Mama's boy at heart, and no puttanesca can compare to his Mama's recipe. "Come on baby, let's go eat before our dinner gets cold." Howie says softly leading Sal to their big couch settling him into it making sure Sal is supported by a plethora of pillows.

Their dinner is so good that Sal is in danger of crying all over again, the puttanesca tastes just like his Mama's. It's perfectly. Howie had even found the perfect non-alcoholic wine to pare with it, giving Sal a sense of normality in his ever changing body. The couple curl up together as they eat watching Sal's favorite movie. Once their food is finished and Sal has had second and third helping - he's eating for two after all - the couple rearrange themselves on the couch so that they are cuddling.

Sal and Howie are connected from head to toe with no space between them. Sal is happily curled around his husband while one of Howie's hands massages his bastard sciatic nerve and the other hand gents pets Sal's distended belly. Baby girl had been using his organs for punching bags and his bladder as a trampoline all day, but she has gone quiet and still under Howie's soothing hands.

"Feels good." Sal murmured feeling relaxed and sleepy.

"You deserve it." Howie replied kissing the top of his head. Sal knows it is Howie's knowledge of the human body and medicine, but it feels like magic when the hand massaging his lower back finds just the right spot, pressing just right. Sal relaxes even more with a loud moan as the pain leaves his body.

"We should name Baby Girl, Buttercup." Sal says withbanother moan, because this might be the best back rub Sal has ever gotten, including the one Howie gave him the night that he had gotten pregnant. Howie chuckles softly into the top of Sal's head,

"Let's revisit that when you aren't hyped up on oxytocin and endorphins." Howie suggets sweetly. Sal will let it go, for now, he doesn't think he'll change his mind, but he's feeling so good. All loose limbs and warm fuzzy emotions, but it has been a long day. He doesn't want to ruin the cozy romantic mood by arguing about baby names right now.

"Another." Sal demands feeling a little bratty and petulant when the credits roll on the movie. He's exhausted and could fall asleep right here in the warm soft glow of twinkle lights and blankets. He's the most comfortable hevhas been since the start of his third trimester with a big soft, fuzzy blanket covering them while Sal uses Howie as a pillow. Howie kisses the top of his head, rubbing a hand over the massive swell of Sal's belly.

"Okay." Howie whispers turning on Robin Hood Men In Tights.