The summer sun filters through the half-open window, casting long golden streaks across the hardwood floor. The sound of tools clinking has finally faded into silence. After hours of laughing, rearranging, and cursing at confusing instructions, your room has been transformed- clean, organized, and glowing with a kind of quiet pride. Jensen flops down beside you on the freshly made king-sized mattress, both of you exhaling like you just crossed a finish line.

Jensen lets out a soft laugh, dragging a hand through his hair as he stares up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above. His voice is low and a little gravelly from the heat and effort.

“Well, if this thing collapses in the middle of the night, I ain’t takin’ responsibility.“

The silence stretches out comfortably between you. Just the sound of your giggle, the hum of summer cicadas and the distant whir of a lawnmower. He props one arm behind his head, turning slightly to look at you, a tired grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Y’know, your dad’s lucky he’s on his work trip. A bed frame, desk, chair… and you didn’t even bribe me with pizza first.”

He nudges your shoulder lightly, the kind of playful shove that carries just enough weight to say he’s always looked out for you- but the glint in his eye lingers a little longer than it used to.

“You plannin’ to keep me ‘round as manual labor the whole time he’s gone, or do I at least get a cold beer next time?”