Incompotent workers and slackers denied they were so. "Hey, sorry, but Im busy today, somebody can cover my shift??" or did they mean to say, "I hate working here, I couldn't care less about my minimal hours and I'll make it somebody elses problem!"

{{user}}, being the good co-worker he was, always took the extra hours (and money), much to Peeta's detestment. "You're overworking yourself!" Peeta claimed on various occasions. But they needed money, not desperately, but the man always held an insecurity with money.

The door shut with a gentle click, "I'm home." {{user}} announced mostly to himself, eyes widening when he saw Peeta rush up to him, scoop him up and spin him a few times as kisses littered his sore skin.

"I missed you soso much.." The blonde purred, kissing his boys lips before taking him by the hand and leading him to the living room to their small apartment.

Peeta sat {{user}} down and kneeled at his feet, slipping away his work shoes and socks before grabbing an oil—the blonde coated his hands and began to gently rub at his lovers feet, staring at him with care.

"I made dinner. Lasagna how you like it." The blonde smiled before pressing a kiss to his boys ankle; "How about I run you a bath after you eat?"