Don’t Mention What Day It Is | Ike & Soren
@honor-in-truth | Soren
“Soren?” Ike announced his presence in the room with a low greeting of the other’s name. Not that Soren would be expecting anyone else; it was a slow week for the police department medical examiner’s office, so there was probably no other officers bothering their best M.E. about a case. Not that bothering Soren about a case was ever a good idea, he’d get to your case in order and on time and he’d send a report to you right away and if you never saw him face-to-face then that was probably best for the both of you. But Ike was different. He didn’t often feel different, not different from the other hopefuls in his recruitment class, not different from the other beat cops when he first started, not different from the other homicide detectives whose desks surrounded his. Not different from the people on the street that he protected with his life every day. But he was different to Soren, he knew. Because Soren didn’t yell at him to go away so he could work in peace, didn’t even scowl when he entered a room--including now--and sometimes, on very rare occasions, he could even get the grumpy little technician to smile. Occasionally. Ike’s own lips turned up in a grin at the memory. He walked up behind the other man, whose hands were busy setting up some next test to run on the--the center-fyuge? Soren always tried to teach him the names of the equipment and what they were for, and most of the time he remembered. Ike dipped his head so he could rest his chin on the shorter man’s shoulder while he worked. “It’s lunchtime,” he rumbled lowly so as not to be too much of a distraction. “Can you take a break once that’s set up?” His hands slipped down his companion’s sides and into the pockets of his lab coat. Every morning Ike filled the left pocket with Soren’s favorite mint chocolate candies so he’d remember to eat something, and the right pocket with Ike’s own favorite fun-size peanut-caramel-chocolate bars, just for the excuse to reach into his pockets every day.