The office was dark and silent when Gideon pushed the door open with his shoulder, the only sounds coming from the bags rustling in his hands. He dropped them by the entrance, wincing when the finger he’d dislocated ripping the head off a fledgling got caught in the plastic handle. Kicking the door shut with his heel, he marched straight for the stairs to the apartment, peeling away his ruined shirt as he moved. All he wanted was a hot shower, a warm Jesse to curl around, and a week’s worth of sleep.
At the bottom of the stairs, Gideon paused. Jesse was stretched out on the couch, half-buried in books, fast asleep. More than a few days’ worth of stubble darkened his cheeks, and his hair looked like it had been even longer since he’d combed it. His breathing was deep and even, though, and
