Ray was dog-tired, but happy to be home. He glanced at his watch as he closed the front door. Almost seven-thirty. Way later than he had intended. He set his medical bag down on the front table, kicked off his shoes in the hall, and made a beeline for his living room. Hoping.
Nick lounged on his couch watching re-runs of a sitcom. Ray relaxed, feeling immensely better already.
“Hey there,” Ray said.
“Oh, hey.” Nick sat up to allow room for Ray to sit on the couch next to him. He patted the space.
Ray pressed his lips to Nick in a deep kiss before plopping down on the couch next to his lover as close as possible. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be so late.”
“It’s okay. Harold let me in. Pizza’s cold, though.” Nick gestured to a half-eaten pizza on the coffee table. “I got hungry.”
