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The lights are off in the office when you pass by it. From the doorway you can see Beau sitting on the couch, head tipped back. He had holed himself up when he had come home, not even bothering with dinner. You hadn’t seen him like this in a while, and you knew deep in your heart it was something that he wouldn’t be able to share fully with you.
“Beau?” Minutes tick away marked off by the clock on the wall. You’re not certain if he’s awake or not. “I’ll come back in a little while. I’m going to take the beasties for a walk.”
“Don’t,” he says. It’s not much more than a whisper, but you pause, turning back to him. “Can you sit with me kitten?”
You cross into the room, coming to stand in front of him. He’s still in his khakis, a couple of folders on the couch next to him. “What do you need?” When he pats his lap, you straddle his thighs. His hands settle on your hips, pulling you gently against him. He’s warm, solid, and so tense that you can feel his muscles vibrating under his skin
“Baby boy,” you murmur kissing his forehead. “Let it go, you don’t have to carry it all the time.” Your fingers slide into his hair, gently mussing it. He tips into the touch, a quiet sound sliding past his lips. “My brave, strong Beau.” Pressing soft kisses to his cheek, the tip of his nose, his mouth. “I can’t take it all but let me help you.”
He moves under you, shifting your weight to move you flush against him. His head drops to the curve of your neck, his breathing slow and unsteady. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him close. Gently rub his back, your nails skimming the cloth of his uniform. Inch by inch you feel his shoulders relax, and he’s slumping heavier against you.
“Can we get this off?” You pull away just enough to slide your hands between the two of you. Unbuttoning his uniform top, he helps to get out of it, and the white t-shirt he wore underneath.
“Off,” he tugs on the hem of your sweatshirt. You nod, and it joins his shirts on the floor. Beau’s head drops to your chest, cheek pressed against the swell of your breast, his breath ruffling the lace on your bra. Fingertips skim across his shoulders, massaging the back of his neck, sliding into his hair again. He rumbles in pleasure the sound vibrating out of his chest and against your skin.
Beau’s hands, gentle and worn slide up your back, touching you as though you’re blown glass. There’s a subtle tremor in his hands. His breathing has evened out slightly, and he’s relaxing into you.
“Good boy. I’ve got you.” You kiss the top of his head, nose nuzzling into his hair, breathing deep his cologne, and the scent that is just Beau.
“Someone’s not coming back from this.” He mutters. “I’m the one that has to send them.”
“You have to trust in their skills. You know the mission; you know your pilots.” You hold him a little tighter, feeling him melt against you. “You know their training, their abilities. You know yourself, and how to be a strong good leader.”
“What if I’m wrong.”
“Don’t think in what-ifs. Not about this. This is where you lean into your own strength, and the strength of the people around you.” You gently tug his hair until he lifts his face. Tracing a fingertip along his eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, along his cheekbone, his jaw, over his lower lip. “I have faith in you Beau, they do too. You’ll make the right choice, and they’ll all come home.” You kiss him softly and he whimpers against your mouth.
“What did I do to get someone like you?” He murmurs, arms tightening around you.
“You must have pissed someone off big time, Beau.”
That gets a crooked half smile. “Kitten…”
“Come on, we’re going to bed, and you’re getting thoroughly cuddled.”
He rumbles softly, nuzzling against your neck. His arms flex, the world shifting as he reverses your positions, stretching you out on the couch, pushing the files to the floor. Beau’s weight settles on top of you, his head cushioned against your breasts, his hands bringing your legs around his waist. Your hands find their way to his hair again, rubbing at his scalp.
“I’ve got you, close your eyes and rest.” You want nothing more than to keep this man, this man who bore the weight of the world on his shoulders, safe. The two of you lay there in the dark, and eventually his breathing evens, solid frame melting against you as he snores.