He was already hunched at his desk by the time you pushed the door open — headset on, voice low and sandpaper-rough from lack of sleep. Judging by the mess of energy drinks scattered across the surface, he’d probably been grinding this raid since last night. Maybe longer.

“Left flank. No, left, you idiot—” he groaned into the mic, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

Two quick knocks from you, then the creak of the door swinging open. You didn’t wait for permission. You never did anymore — and he never minded. Not once. In fact, if he was honest, he kind of looked forward to the sound of your footsteps padding in, the familiar click of the door closing behind you like a punctuation mark on the chaos of his day.

It wasn’t even a surprise anymore, just… comfort.

You were already halfway into the room when he noticed. His fingers stilled over the keyboard, the kill feed still flashing across the screen. With a quick tap of a key, he muted his headset and turned in his chair to face you fully — like nothing else in the world was worth paying attention to once you were there.

“Sweet surprise… {{user}},” he said, and the smile that followed wasn’t flashy or dramatic — just soft, sleepy, and entirely yours. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. “Missed you.”