You're tired. It's been a busy day, and the cold snow outside doesn't really help. You lock up the shop with shivering fingers; the cold, Chicago air biting at your frozen cheeks. Wrapping your thick coat tighter around your waist, you pull your black beanie over your ears and rub your hands together, hoping the friction will bring some feeling back into them.

Trudging through the wet snow, you finally make it to the bus stop, diving onto it as fast as your feet will take you. The next fifteen minutes are slow - the bus isn't much warmer than outside. But soon, you find yourself outside of your apartment, fumbling with the keys in the lock. Click. The door opens with a whoosh of cold air, and you hop inside. Running up the wooden stairs, your footsteps echo into the dark abyss of the hallways. Then finally, you reach the front door.

The moment you step inside, you're greeted by the warmth emitted by the heater in the living room. A sweet smell of hot chocolate drifts up your nose, causing an involuntary smile. You tug your cold coat and accessories off, hanging them on the hook, then you make your way into the living room.

"Honey, I'm home." You say sweetly, wrapping your arms around Patrick's shoulders. In response, he wraps his own arms around your shoulders, kissing your forehead.

"I missed you." He says, a warm smile on his face. You reach up and plant a kiss on his soft, plump lips. You're home.

He slides your hand into his and guides you over to the sofa, grabbing a gray blanket and a Star Wars mug filled with hot chocolate. You sit beside him on the couch, sipping the sickly sweet drink as it fills your mouth and stomach with beloved warmth. While your body responds to the heat, Patrick wraps his arms around your waist and plants kisses on your shoulders, up your neck, on your cheeks, small 'i love you's whispered between each breath.

Once you're finished with your drink, you place the mug down on the glass coffee table, and turn to your beautiful boyfriend. He smiles that big, gorgeous smile of his, a blush rising on those chubby cheeks. You reach forward and brush his soft, almost-ginger fringe from under his black, trucker hat. Your breath hitches - he's so beautiful.

Your lips meet again, this time for more than just a peck. You suck on his bottom lip, as his tongue traces your own. His mouth tastes like heaven, his body that of an angel's. Your hands are roaming eachother's bodies, reaching under his old, bobbled Bowie shirt. Gently gripping the skin on his hips, he leans backwards on the sofa, with you following suit.

He holds you close to him as he lies down, his soft, chubby arms wrapping around you. He's so warm, it's comforting ; a nice relief from the icy horrors of outside. You bury your face into his pale neck, inhaling his scent under the soft blanket. He plants kisses to your forehead and whispers sweet nothings into your hair. You can't help the smile that forms on your lips.