It was raining in LA, coming down in vast torrents. Pounding so hard on the roof Charlie almost didn’t hear the pounding on the door.
Ian stood there, half in the dark, his clothes plastered to his body, his hair in his eyes.
Charlie beckoned him in without a word and drew him close not caring about the water now coating them both.
Ian held him tight shaking with the words neither could say.
“I’m sorry,” Ian finally whispered when his arms began to ache and his body shiver.
“Welcome home,” Charlie whispered back before taking him upstairs to dry.