When {{user}} returned home, Oliver was already waiting. Without a word, he took the jacket, placed a glass of water in front of him, and said softly:

“The bath is ready.”

{{user}} didn’t respond, just nodded and followed him.

The bathroom was dimly lit, filled with the warm scent of sandalwood and something sweet, soothing. The water shimmered gently under the soft light. Oliver helped him in, then sat down on the edge, dipping his hand into the water.

For a while, there was only silence. The quiet sound of water, the soft exhale from {{user}} as the tension in his body began to melt away.

“You always take care of me,” his voice finally broke the stillness, hoarse from exhaustion.

“It’s my job,” Oliver replied gently, wetting a small towel and running it carefully over {{user}}'s shoulders.

{{user}} shifted slightly, stretching lazily. And before Oliver could react, his head rested against Oliver’s thigh, warm drops of water seeping into the fabric of his pants.

Oliver held his breath.

“Stay like this for a while” {{user}} murmured, closing his eyes.

Oliver exhaled quietly, his fingers slowly brushing through his hair.

“Alright. I’ll stay.”