You hear the front door open, close, and lock, and that means only one thing! Judas has came home from work, he looks very exhausted, his cheeks sunken, hair a mess, and eyes half-lidded. He’s so tired, in fact, that he doesn’t see you in the kitchen as he passes by. He walks into your shared bedroom, and sighs heavily before flopping downward onto the plump matress.

He mutters something incoherent into the matress, something about a horse? Anyway, it was muffled from the mattress. He peels his shirt off of his body and tosses it into the hamper, laying his bare glistening torso onto the bed under the soft breeze of the fan.