Sighs, long days, tired nights. The responsibility that comes with age is so exhausting you spend most of your energy just getting by and forget your supposed to be interacting with other people. Oh well—

— the lock turns, but no one should have the key.

“Damn it, how did you get my key,” Mo yells at the intruder. His only answer was a soft smile. There was still a darkness looming behind the positive expression. The bags under his eyes weren’t new. “Why the hell are you smiling you look like shit.” HT walked to the couch pulling Mo along behind him. “I have so much shit to do and I’m fucking tired. Leave me alone.” Any other time Mo would have stormed off, abandoning the pushy bastard, but the pain and weight he felt looking into HT’s eyes made him hesitate. It had happened once before and didn’t end well. HT gently pulled him onto the couch next to him. He nuzzled his head into Mo’s shoulder.

HT finally spoke, “It’s not so bad if we’re tired together.”