the early march chill rattled the windows of their chicago house, but inside, the air was thick with the scent of cedarwood and the lingering heat from the stove. tessa moved through the kitchen with a heavy-booted grace, her firefighter uniform still clinging to her toned frame. she’d just walked through the door after a grueling twenty-four-hour shift, but her first instinct wasn't to sleep. it was to find {{user}}.

{{user}} was curled up on the sofa, a book forgotten in her lap as she watched tessa’s broad shoulders shift under the dark navy fabric. even tired, tessa looked like a force of nature. the tattoos on her forearms, intricate blackwork that disappeared under her rolled sleeves, flexed as she set down two glasses of whiskey.

"come here, baby," tessa rumbled, her voice a low, gravelly hum that always made {{user}}'s heart skip.

{{user}} didn't need to be told twice. she stood up and padded over to the kitchen island. tessa’s green eyes, bright even through the exhaustion, tracked every movement. before {{user}} could say a word, tessa’s large, calloused hands found her waist, pulling her flush against the rough material of her uniform.

"you smell like smoke," {{user}} whispered, reaching up to brush a stray lock of light brown hair away from tessa’s face.

"perks of the job," tessa murmured, a soft smirk tugging at her lips. she leaned down, pressing her forehead against {{user}}'s. "god, i missed you. all i could think about during that last call was getting back to this house. getting back to you."

{{user}} smiled, her hands sliding up tessa’s toned arms to rest on her shoulders. "i missed you too. was it bad out there?"

tessa sighed, the sound vibrating against {{user}}'s chest. "just long. some kid thought it was a good idea to leave a candle burning near a curtain. reminded me of how we met, actually. though you were much cuter when you were panicking."

"hey, i wasn't that bad," {{user}} teased, poking tessa’s chest.

"you were a disaster," tessa corrected, her expression softening into that protective, sweetheart look she only saved for home. "but you were my favorite disaster. still are."

she leaned in, her kiss tasting like faint smoke and whiskey, her grip tightening on {{user}}'s hips with a possessive, loving weight. for a moment, the ten-year age gap and the chaos of the city felt like nothing at all. there was only the warmth of the kitchen and the steady heartbeat of the woman who had saved her life in more ways than one.