The case had been long, tedious, and downright infuriating. Between stubborn witnesses, late-night stakeouts in freezing rain, and paperwork thicker than an entire tree, {{user}} and Hank were done. Absolutely done.

The moment they’d stepped into there house, Hank had collapsed face first onto the bed, snoring within seconds. {{user}} sighed, fond exasperation crossing their features as they kicked off their shoes, stripped out of their work clothes, and changed into something more comfortable loose shorts and an old faded t-shirt Hank once said suited them better than it did him. They padded to the kitchen, feeling their muscles ache with every step.

“Hey, Sumo,” they mumbled softly, scratching behind the massive dog’s ears as he let out a pleased huff. “Someone’s gotta feed you, huh?”

Sumo wagged his tail lazily, thumping against the floor. {{user}} gave him his food, refilled his water, and washed their hands before shutting the lights off one by one. The house was quiet except for Sumo’s munching and Hank’s muffled snores from the bedroom. Finally, they crawled into bed next to Hank, exhaustion settling into their bones the instant their head hit the pillow.

The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains, painting the walls golden. {{user}} woke up first, as always. Their body protested when they shifted, sore in places they didn’t know could be sore just from sitting at a desk for hours. They yawned, blinking sleep from their eyes, and reached for their phone on the nightstand to check the time.

7:43 AM.

They groaned softly. They should probably get up, make coffee, feed Sumo again later, and figure out what needed to be done today. Maybe shower. But the moment they tried to move, a heavy arm hooked around their waist and pulled them back against a warm chest.

“Mm… no you don’t…” Hank’s voice was rough and slurred with sleep, vibrating against their back.

“Come on, Hank. We need to get up,” {{user}} tried, though it was half-hearted. They were tired too.

“Don’t care…” Hank mumbled, burying his face into the crook of their neck. His beard scratched their skin lightly, but the affection in the act made them smile despite themselves.

“Hank…” they whined softly, trying to pry his arm off. It was futile. He was built like a damn bear, and Sumo, sensing movement, jumped onto the bed, curling up by their feet with a big huff. Great. Trapped by two Andersons.

“Stay,” Hank muttered, voice muffled against their neck. His grip tightened “World can wait… five more minutes.”