#Joe loves this man so much he'll do his laundry

[sheafrotherdon]

The laundromat is almost empty by the time Joe takes the last load of clothes out of the dryer. It’s dark outside, and there are almost no cars on the strip. It suits him.  He tumbles warm shirts and jeans and hoodies into one of the rolling carts, and pushes it to a folding table, humming under his breath.

 He’s tired—tired in his mind as well as his body. They’ve been safe in this non-descript town for just long enough that the ache in his bones, the terrible pressure in his head tells Joe his body is done running for now.  He’s tired, but for all that his joints feel sharp and his thinking slow, he’s glad to not adrenaline’s lack

Joe picks up a t-shirt and shakes it out, deftly folds it and sets it to one side. A hoodie next, one of Nicky’s—soft and grey, frayed at the wrists, and Joe smiles to think that they’ve had time enough for their clothes to fray instead of being torn apart by whatever fresh violence someone wants to visit on them. He smooths the fabric with care, pats the hoodie with one hand.  Jeans—one pair with a hole at the knee—and two button-down shirts, underwear, socks. There is, he realizes, as he folds and sorts everything, a whole life here—grass stains removed from a t-shirt, dirt from the hem of Nicky’s jeans, tomato sauce from the front of a Henley. The grease on his own jeans, from messing with the car, is mostly lifted, and there’s a tiny hole under the arm of one of his shirts that he makes a note to repair.  He folds and sorts and folds again, and places everything carefully inside the trash-bag-made-laundry-hamper he brought with him two hours ago.

He walks back to the house, and more than once he closes his eyes and pulls in a slow breath, relishing the scent of cut grass and damp earth and the faint lingering scent of laundry soap.

“Thank you,” Nicky says when Joe walks in, and Joe lifts the bag as if to say ‘cheers’ and wanders to their bedroom. He stows everything, closes the drawers and balls up the trash bag, sits on the end of the bed.

“Do you feel better?” Nicky asks, standing in the doorway.

Joe huffs a breath of laughter. “I do.” 

Nicky crosses the room to sit beside him, bumps their shoulders together gently. “Can you sleep now?”

Joe makes a soft sound of contemplation. “I think so.” He turns his head to squint at the bedside clock. “Almost midnight. I didn’t realize it was so late.”  He turns his head again when Nicky grazes his jaw with the back of his fingers; turns to find Nicky half-smiling at him, looking at him with such love that it makes all Joe’s words back up in his throat.

“You are a good man,” Nicky says, and leans in to kiss his forehead.

Joe closes his eyes beneath Nicky’s touch. “Hmmm,” he answers, swaying toward Nicky’s body heat.

Nicky pulls back and watches him, expression fond, and he rubs the pad of his thumb over Joe’s bottom lip. “Amore mio,” he says quietly, and Joe leans against him, and they sit a while longer, quiet and still.

[goldheartedsky]

Andy/Booker for the shipping asks because I know you want to.

kjdsahdf;jsdkf don't call me a 🤡 like that but thank you I was dying for someone to ask

falls asleep on the couch — Booker. It's the dad in him. He physically cannot sit on a couch without ending up slumped down, head back, mouth open. Don't you dare change the game though, because he was watching that, obviously

makes friends with the neighbors — Andy. She's simultaneously the most standoffish person alive but also the most weirdly neighborly person you'll ever meet. Will randomly show up at your house and mow your lawn for you. Booker would rather be caught dead than make small talk over a fence

is the adventurous eater — Andy 110%. She forces Booker to eat SO many weird fucking things and he is so, SO tired. Literally any animal that has been alive at some point, Andy has eaten in at least 3 different ways

hogs the covers at night — Both. It's very much a tug of war with those two and most of the time they end up getting separate blankets because of how many 3am fights it causes

forgets to do the dishes — Booker. Much to Andy's and Joe's and Nicky's and Nile's annoyance, Booker never fucking does the dishes. He's an okay cook but always swears he'll do the dishes later and just never does them. He's been stabbed at least six times for this

tries to surprise their partner more often — Andy, because she likes the way Booker screams and Booker has learned it's not very fun to try and surprise Andy because you can and will get murdered

leaves dirty laundry on the floor — Andy. Much like Booker's dishes, she's incapable of putting anything into a hamper. They've tried bags, they've tried baskets, they've tried laundry chutes and every single article of clothing Andy wears still somehow manages to end up on the floor

stays up til 2 AM reading — honestly neither. They're both early to mid 40's and they have bad eyesight and would rather just go to bed 😂

sings in the shower — Booker and extremely badly. Most of the video's on Andy's phone are shaky videos from the other side of the shower curtain where she's filming him singing and trying to keep from laughing

takes the selfies — hot take but NEITHER. They've been together for like, 200 years and have exactly 1 selfie together

plans date night — Booker 100%. The man likes his romance. He likes the effort and loves it when Andy gets all dressed up. Spends a great deal of time switching up date nights so nothing ever gets boring. Andy's idea of 'date night' is buying as many snacks as possible and binge watching something on the couch, so she's glad that one of them is willing to put in the work