After a long day at work, it was nice to get home and kick off shoes and get out of work clothes and into a big soft t-shirt and sweatpants, and it was the best thing ever besides not leaving the house at all.
But the best part of Jonathan’s day was just after entering the house, but just before walking down to the bedroom to change. Some days when work kept him late he’d come into the warm house and it would be filled with the scent of Zack’s cooking, and Sock’s baking. And who would come running around the corner and into his arms, but the lil baker himself. Usually covered in flour and powdered sugar with flushed cheeks and shining green eyes that were full of love for his boyfriend.
Jonathan would smooch his metamour, and touch noses until the redhead was giggling so much it would get the attention of Jon’s paramour, Zack, who would come round the corner and scoop up the both of them into a big warm bear hug. “Welcome home, Jon.”
“Thanks, I’m glad to be home. Lemme go change and then we can eat whatever the heck you’ve been cooking that smells so good.”
Zack would set them down gently. “It should be ready by the time you get out here, but hurry up, we’re both starving.”
“You think I’m not?” Jonathan would call over his shoulder, laughing.
And then when he was all comfy and relaxed he’d walk down the hall to the tiny dining area, and he and his lovers would sit down and eat and gush over Zack’s cooking until he was pink from the praise. And each would share the day they had, laughing over silly moments and news. Then when the plates were cleared, dessert was served. Sock was proud of his baking creations, and he was pretty good at it. He made something new every week or so, and they were all tasty, which made it pretty hard for anyone to keep to a diet very long.
“I swear, Sock, I’m gonna gain 15 pounds and it’s gonna be all your fault,” Zack would joke. Sock would look mischievous, and smirk, and say something along the line of him liking his men soft and fluffy while Zack got flustered trying to respond, and Jonathan would laugh. It was this sort of thing that he loved the most about his poly relationship, the teasing and flirting and insults made with love.
“So, who’s picking the movie tonight?” Jonathan would say. This would change daily. Sock favored Disney movies and comedies and murder movies, it was always a gamble what he was in the mood for. Zack favored action movies and multi-season comedy series like Friends and Parks and Rec, so they’d get caught up watching a few episodes if that was the case. Jonathan had found himself getting really into science documentaries and romcoms, the latter of which Sock made fun of him for. But Jonathan found some of them heart warming or even cheesy enough to laugh at.
Documentaries made Sock conk out like nobodies business. Not that they weren’t interesting, they just always seemed to pick a narrator with a soothing voice. 20 minutes in Sock would be out like a light and the other two thought it was the cutest thing.
“No documentaries, please,” Sock would practically beg. “It’s Zack’s turn anyway.”
“’K, but enough Friends; the secondhand embarrassment is physically painful…”
“I’ve seen Friends like 5 times don’t worry, I was thinking Marvel anyway-”
“No Marvel,” Sock would interrupt.
“Come on Sock! You just want to watch Moana for the 500th time.”
“It’s a good movie!”
“Guys, come on we have this fight like every night. It’s Zack’s turn, let him pick what he wants to pick. We can watch Moana, again, when it’s your turn, Sock.” Jonathan would eventually end up mediating. Sock would pout while Zack would look at Jonathan gratefully.
“No, listen, Thor: Ragnarok just came out on Netflix. You’ll love this one I promise.”
They’d all pile into bed, Jonathan in the middle and Zack and Sock on either side, cuddling up to him while whoever was in charge of the remote picked the source of entertainment for the night.
After the movie ended and the lights were turned off, they’d settle down and get comfortable. Sock would be the first one asleep, then Zack. Jonathan’s rampant insomnia would keep him up longer, leaving him with his thoughts. Sometimes they were bad, but tonight, as he turned his head to look at the two people he loved most in the entire world asleep in the same bed, he had only good thoughts.
When his eyelids finally began to droop close and he drifted in and out of conscious, he finally fell asleep with only one thought, and a happy smile on his face.
‘I am home.’