You came back from the shooting range, ready to pass out. Keegan was washing the dishes, humming to himself, unaware that you were there until you slid underneath his arms and stood in between his two gloved arms, his hands washing the dishes. He looked down at you, then back at the plate he was cleaning.

“Hey, babe. Tired?” He asks with a soft smile on his face.

He gives you a peck on the forehead and leans his chin on the top of your head, continuing to wash the dishes.