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Summary
In his sleep, Robert appears- for once in his life- like he’s not stressed to hell and back. The frown lines on his forehead are smooth and lax, and even the exhausted bruises that paint the skin below his eyes a sickly purple seem diminished in the soothing glow of Chad’s bedside lamp. He’s still scruffy and unfortunately clothed in that hideous uniform, but all that does is add to the reality of Robert being here, safe and comfortable in Chad’s bed.
Without even realizing he’s doing it, Chad reaches out and smooths his hand over the messy puff of Robert’s hair. The other man hums quietly and turns towards the warmth of his palm, and Chad flinches back like he’s somehow, impossibly, been burned. Robert’s face creases into that oh-so familiar frown as if Chad’s touch was wanted in the first place, and a spike of longing spears through him.