*scoots over* I saw a post you had made about requesting prompts? Or suggestions? May I suggest Malum Caedo and his male or gen neutral partner washing up together, needing to wind down and just relax after a hard day?
Since I'm keeping this request SFW I decided to go with gender neutral :)
(Gender neutral reader)
You could actually smell him before he had entered his quarters, the putrid stench of ichor and gore, it only grew stronger and more intense in strength when the doors finally slide open to greet your Lord slumped over against the metal frame.
Murky filth dripped sloppily from every crevice of his armor, cascading to the floor even and peering behind him you could make out that it even thick enough to make bootprints - there were also smears, attempts made to wipe the vile off with no success due to its thick rubbery constancy.
It was clear your beloved had been truly vicious with the Tyranids this mission.
From the red visors of his helm Malum looks down at you on the floor in the middle of reorganizing his many tomes, when he speaks he sounds exhausted.
"I would greatly appreciate a bath."
Astartes armor isn't the easiest to clean. Granted, such maintenance wasn't usually performed by baselines - as it requires gentle treatment and thorough knowledge such is usually performed by Tech-marines or at least highly experienced Mechanicus. But here you were, sat off to the side tenderly scrubbing the best you could as Malum sinks further in the tub on the other side of the room, taking the time to submerge himself completely to where the water went over his head. He holds himself there for several minutes, a self enposed ritual he does each bath - nearly scared you to death the first time he did it. But he comes back up with panted gasps reassures you each time.
He feels at his face as he leans his head back against the rim, he lets his eyes flutter close. He hasn't said a word to you about anything about how the mission went, which was perfectly fine it wasn't your place to pry in official Astartes business but you can't help but to have noticed his quietness - the man has an ego, much bravado, while he did have a kind heart he did take much pride in his work that you expected to at least hear something about a difficult beast he took down - actually, you're usually one of the first people he tells.
You look back to the blue plating on your lap, it wasn't the first time you've had to clean difficult gorey remains, again this usually type of task would be handled by someone much more suitable but Malum has look made it clear he trusts no one else to do a finer job taking care of it than you, even his own brothers, which makes your heart drum in your hest. But then again Malum has a... talent of ripping and tearing through his enemies that get much more visceral stuck to his suit than what would be considered normal for Astartes... leaving you having to dig Tyranid gunk out of the most tightest of places.
"(Name)," Your head snaps with the sudden addressal.
"Yes?"
"...thank you."
"There's no need for thanks, I'm just performing my duties."
"Well I mean it. I greatly appreciate it." Your head tilts at his words.
"Are you feeling alright? You seem-"
"I'm fine. Just... tired, I suppose."
It takes you a moment but you look down and gently set the pauldron off of your lap and crawl over to the side of the tub. Your beloved doesn't look at you instantly, his head still leaned back and eyes still shut, but when he does his eyelids slowly open to peer over longingly at you. A arm emerges out of the water so that a hand can caress on the side of your face. His expression is solem.
"A Hive World was Exterminatus today." Your stomach drops. "Even with millions of Xenos killed, it wasn't enough. The planet is nothing but dust now."
Nothing could be possibly said.
You lean further into his hand, you have more questions but you ultimately know it wouldn't do either of you any good to ask. What happened can only linger.
"Join me." The offer takes you by surprise at first but given the status of things and just how he looks at you... your robes slip off with ease.
There is no more words, just hands gently caressing each other, lathering your bodies with soap to wash off the blood staining you both. Your lips find each other now and again, your hands entangled in short brown hair to deepen it alternating between passion and lazy soft kisses.
Your hands are so gentle as they come down to cup his face, the left side heavily scarred from his success on Graia - a part of the side of his mouth missing flesh where you could still see exposed teeth even with it closed. He was insecure about it, even if he'd never admit it out loud and instead say it his pride serving the Emperor, but you knew better. He never took off his helm in front of his brothers like he use to, wouldn't let Apothecaries even look at him - saying something along the lines of them being able to see him upon death when it came time to recover his Geneseed but not a moment beforehand. But to you? He was just as handsome as the day you first laid eyes on him.
There is two Service Studs on his forehead and if you remembered correctly he is due for a third in the coming months. You kiss each. He squirms in your embrace, heat dusting his cheeks he takes place burying his face your neck, his arms tight around your waist.
You both sit there for awhile, long after your both clean and after the stench of Tyranid ichor is long gone. Both exposed and at your most vulnerable with and to one another. In those moments nothing else mattered and nothing existed beyond the steamed confines of this room.
Duty is a cruel thing. But you promised to be there for him, to tend to his armor, clean him up, and comfort him each and every time he returns. No matter how difficult.
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