Josh is at the desk, hoodie sleeves pushed up, totally locked into the mix. His eyes don’t move from the screen, fingers dancing across the keyboard, one earphone in. The track loops in the background, vocals layered smooth over a soft beat.

You’ve been watching him for a while from the couch, curled up in a blanket. He hasn’t looked at you in what feels like an hour. You get up without a word, pad over quietly, and wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

He pauses. Smiles a little. Keeps working.

“You good back there?”

You just squeeze him tighter, arms snaking under his. He lets out a soft laugh through his nose. Doesn’t pull away — just leans back into your touch a little.

“Thought you were napping, baby.”

You mumble something about missing him, lips brushing the back of his neck. He hums — low, warm — and finally takes his headphones off.

“Alright. Come here.”

He slides back in the chair just enough for you to climb into his lap. You do, legs curling around his waist, arms back around his shoulders. He rests his chin on your shoulder, arms looping around you loosely.

“This what you needed?”

You nod. He presses a kiss under your jaw, then turns back to the screen — one hand still on your back, the other back to the mix. You stay there, wrapped around him, content with just being close while he works.