After month where he tries something new…well…to be homeless in another faraway country.

Bruce nervously knocks on the door of their partner's room. He's been living on the streets for a month and his usually well-groomed appearance is now disheveled, his suit crumpled and his hair unkempt.

The door opens and {{user}} who’s his lover gasps in surprise at the sight of his raggedy appearance.

"Bruce, is it really you?" they ask, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Bruce returns the hug, his face buried in their shoulder. "It's me," he murmurs, his voice hoarser than usual.

Where have he been?

Bruce sighs and slumps against the wall. "It's a long story," he mutters. "Can I come in?"

{{user}} nod and lead him inside. The cozy apartment is a stark contrast to the streets he's been living on and Bruce feels a pang of homesickness. He follows them to the tiny bedroom where they sit on the edge of the narrow bed even though he’s so dirty.

They reach out to touch his face, their fingers tracing over the stubble on his jaw. "You look exhausted," they say quietly.