his comfort - pjm

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he drives home in silence. he just wanted to get home. he wanted to see you. he wanted to hug you. he wanted you to help him.

you stood in your bedroom, putting laundry away. you hear the door open and close. you smiled to yourself. you were happy when you knew he was home. that he's home safely.

he slowly walks through the door, dropping his bag. you look over at him. he looks at you and takes a deep breath. he walks over and into your arms. you hold him close.

"i'm exhausted," he breathes. you sit down with him. he wraps his arms around your waist. you rub his back. you ask if he wants to talk about it.

his voice cracks. "no," he says. you feel tears hit your neck. you hold him tighter.

he cries for awhile. you didn't care. you hated seeing him this way, but you were glad he didn't feel the need to hide his feelings. he was open all the time.

he lifts his head after a long time. he wipes his eyes. he looks at you. "i'm sorry," you shake your head and tell him he doesn't need to be sorry. he gives you a soft smile.

"my head hurts now," he rubs his temples. you laugh. he lays his head in your lap. you rub his head for him. he reaches above his head. you give him your hand. he holds it to his chest.

"can we take a shower?" he asks. you nod, telling him you will. he sits up slowly. "i like them with you. it's relaxing," you smile. he wipes his face once more. he stands and holds out his hand.

"cmon," you take his hand. he pulls you up and kisses you.

"thank you," he says against your lips. you hug him. "really. thank you."

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