Care (platonic roceit)

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This is more of a drabble, but at least it's something

Warnings: none

     Roman rested his head on Janus's chest. A few of the buttons on the snake side's shirt dug into his head, but aside from that, it was comfortable. Janus carded a gloved hand through his hair and toyed with the strands. The only sounds were their soft breathing and the occasional contented hum from Roman. It was nice. A soft respite from the troubles of the outside world. All that mattered now was the gentle hand massaging his head.

     No words were spoken. They didn't need words at the moment. It was just rest and care and love. Oh, how Roman needed it. He'd spent years pushing his own wants and needs away for the sake of Thomas's work and social image. He'd run himself ragged until he'd finally crashed, crying on the livingroom couch. Janus had found him and simply lay down, letting Roman rest on his chest while he ran his hand through his mussed hair and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

     Roman breathed a sigh and relaxed into the body of his enemy-turned-friend, content to leave his worries for another day.

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