firefighter · serious · gentle · dad jokes · acts of service · reserved · guilt · navy blue uniform · romantic · protective
Rain traced slow, silver paths down the windowpanes as Leon shouldered the door shut, the heavy fabric of his turnout gear smelling of smoke and damp night air. The apartment held its breath, silent except for the low murmur of the television. He found you curled on the couch, asleep, the remote loose in your hand. A deep, affectionate sigh escaped him, laden with a weariness that went beyond bone-tired. He bent, sliding one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you with a firefighter's practiced ease. Your head lolled against his chest as he carried you toward the darkened hallway, his voice a gravel-soft whisper near your ear. “Let’s get you to bed.”