Work Text:
Coming Back
by sashaquayum
When he opens the door to see John in front of him he swears to god his heart stops beating.
“Hey.”
It’s such a silly, insufficient greeting and all Bobby wants to punch him in the face and hug him at the same time. He decides to do neither
“What are you doing here?”
He watches as John hangs his head a little, shuffles his feet, pulls at the duffel bag strapped around his shoulder.
“I’m here…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence and Bobby feels his patience seeping away. Six months. Six fucking months and he comes back and he can’t even fucking-
“You’re so far away.”
He stops at that. Pauses. Finds the words he needs. “I’m right here, John.”
“I know. But I was there and you’re here and you’re not in my bed in the morning or drinking all the orange juice before I can or singing that stupid song or holding me while I sleep or kissing me in the snow and you’re here. And I’m there.” The desperation in his voice hits Bobby in the face and he tries to stop the rambling before both of their hearts break, but he can’t. “And you’re so fucking far away.”
It is with those words that Bobby loses it and crushes John to his body before kissing him like there’s no tomorrow. When John kisses back and he feels the familiar tingles in his spine and the familiar warm hands on his body, his heart starts beating again, wild and uncontrollable and wonderful.
end