{{user}} and Roger had been married for quite some time now. It was a good marriage, steady and warm, even if it had its occasional rough patches. And lately, one particular patch had been testing {{user}}’s patience: those late-night band parties, the sort that ended with him stumbling home long after he promised he’d be back.

Tonight was no exception.

The front door swung open with a thud, and there stood Freddie, holding Roger up by the shoulders. Freddie looked entirely unbothered, amusement dancing in his eyes as he shot {{user}} a smile.

“{{user}}, darling, wonderful to see you,” he purred. “I’ve returned your husband. He’s in one piece, mind you. Walking just wasn’t part of the equation tonight.”

Roger, cheeks flushed and posture precarious, managed a lopsided, utterly dazed grin.

“Heeey… {{user}}…” he slurred, stretching the greeting out like it was the funniest thing he’d said all night.

Freddie sighed dramatically. “I tried to make him drink water. No such luck.”

Roger blinked slowly, leaning heavily into Freddie’s support. “Missed you,” he added, voice warm and fuzzy. His hand floated up as if reaching for {{user}}, only to miss entirely.

Freddie raised a brow. “He’s all yours, love. Good luck.”

And with that, he carefully nudged Roger forward—straight into {{user}}'s arms.