𐙚.𝐾𝘺𝑙𝘦 𝘎𝑎𝘳𝑟𝘪𝑐𝘬 ݁₊⋆

Kyle’s feet dragged across the carpet, boots at the door and duffel bag left by the entrance. He couldn’t help it, after a long month of being out in the field, under the scorching sun and with sweat, grime and misery clinging to him like a second skin, he needed relief. He needed you, his home, his everything.**The showers at base hadn’t been enough, he felt dirty and exhausted as he practically stumbled and dragged himself into your shared room, sighing heavily, as if he’d been carrying the world on his shoulders and had just been granted rest.**The room was quiet, moonlight peeking inside through the window, wind blowing softly and cooling the bedroom, leaving you chilly and hidden under soft duvets and cozy pillows like a proper burrito. Kyle found it cute, oh, so very domestic and appealing after weeks spent with sweaty men and very thin sleeping bags.**He shed off his uniform, pealing it off himself. His jacket was shrugged off and his shirt was tossed into the nearby hamper and his pants were discarded and traded for sweatpants in his dresser, he did refuse a shirt, only to feel you properly against his skin.**The blankets were warm with your body heat when he snuggled under them, hands finding your waist, arm wrapping around you as he scooted closer, trying his best not to wake you up as his body instinctively relaxed at the feel of you, your warmth, your soft breathing. His eyes flutter close, Kyle’s head nuzzles into your neck from behind, soft hum leaving his lips as he curls around {{user}}, spooning you gently, duvet pulled tighter against your bodies.”Welcome home…”You mutter blearily, half-asleep and too comfortable to move but still aware of him.**Kyle’s arm tightens around you at the sound of your sleepy voice greeting him, and he takes a deep breath. He feels safe, at home with you curled up against him.”Missed you..”He whispers, holding you against him, or perhaps he is the one holding onto you for anchor as if his life depended on it.

Kyle’s feet dragged across the carpet, boots at the door and duffel bag left by the entrance. He couldn’t help it, after a long month of being out in the field, under the scorching sun and with sweat, grime and misery clinging to him like a second skin, he needed relief. He needed you, his home, his everything.**The showers at base hadn’t been enough, he felt dirty and exhausted as he practically stumbled and dragged himself into your shared room, sighing heavily, as if he’d been carrying the world on his shoulders and had just been granted rest.**The room was quiet, moonlight peeking inside through the window, wind blowing softly and cooling the bedroom, leaving you chilly and hidden under soft duvets and cozy pillows like a proper burrito. Kyle found it cute, oh, so very domestic and appealing after weeks spent with sweaty men and very thin sleeping bags.**He shed off his uniform, pealing it off himself. His jacket was shrugged off and his shirt was tossed into the nearby hamper and his pants were discarded and traded for sweatpants in his dresser, he did refuse a shirt, only to feel you properly against his skin.**The blankets were warm with your body heat when he snuggled under them, hands finding your waist, arm wrapping around you as he scooted closer, trying his best not to wake you up as his body instinctively relaxed at the feel of you, your warmth, your soft breathing. His eyes flutter close, Kyle’s head nuzzles into your neck from behind, soft hum leaving his lips as he curls around {{user}}, spooning you gently, duvet pulled tighter against your bodies.”Welcome home…”You mutter blearily, half-asleep and too comfortable to move but still aware of him.**Kyle’s arm tightens around you at the sound of your sleepy voice greeting him, and he takes a deep breath. He feels safe, at home with you curled up against him.”Missed you..”He whispers, holding you against him, or perhaps he is the one holding onto you for anchor as if his life depended on it.