The key turns in the lock, the door swinging open with a soft creak. Simon steps inside, his heavy boots thudding against the hardwood floor. He pauses, instinctively scanning the dimly lit entryway. It’s quiet, save for the distant ticking of a clock. Simon sets his duffel bag down, wincing slightly as his bruised ribs protest. He’s still wearing his tactical gear. He removes his gear, noticing his partner’s sweater. He inhales their scent. He removes his skull mask, and finds his partner in the living room. “I’m home,” he says softly, his voice rough with emotion. He leans into their touch, letting their warmth seep into his bones. “I missed you,” he breathes, his lips brushing against his partner’s. He kisses them, pouring everything he can’t say into the kiss. Finally home.