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Gene watched as the smoke went out the window of the window, then flicked his eyes back to the road. He couldn’t admire the obviously aesthetic homeless man behind the various pubs, or the golden glow of the lamps that lit up the streets. It was rather early morning, and Gene’d been driving all night. He should probably pull over, he could barely keep his eyes open, but Sam had been rather excited to go home. He had only, what, half an hour left?
Speaking of Sam, Gene glanced at the mirror towards the sleeping Sam in the backseat. His camelhair coat was bunched up near Sam’s head, acting as a pillow for him. His leather jacket apparently had adequate warmth to it because he used it as a blanket.
Gene smiled, looking back to the streets. He never really paid attention much to when Sam was asleep, but he really ought to do it more. Sam looked nice when asleep; less stressed than usual. Of course, he always liked seeing Sam’s face when he was frantically rambling or angry enough to lecture him on ‘proper’ policing, to which he and Sam had very different definitions of. It was almost funny, with how different they were, how much they managed to get along. It was almost ironic.
-
Gene stepped out of the car, looking at his house before stepping towards the backseat. He opened the door, revealing Sam’s head.
“Oi, Sam. Get up,” he said bluntly, ruffling Sam’s hair. Sam awoke blearily, looking up at Gene for a long moment before registering that it was him. “Are we home?” Sam asked softly, words laced with a tiredness that couldn’t be quite attributed to having just woken up.
“Yeah. I was thinking we’d unpack the car in the mornin’, how’s that sound? You look like you need a bit more kip.”
Sam nodded, sitting up and grabbing his jacket before scooting towards the door. “Yeah, that’s… that’s alright…”
Sam stumbled from the car, clearly more tired than he was trying to let on. He wasn’t doing a great job to begin with, but that just made it all the more apparent.
Gene grabbed Sam’s shoulder before he could fully keel over, and he looked about five seconds from doing so. “C’mon, it really couldn’t have been that tiring,” Gene snapped, shaking Sam a little. “And I’m not gonna carry you inside the house. Either you wake up or ‘m leavin’ you on the lawn.”
Sam hummed in reply, not really a reply at all, but he didn’t seem to be actively falling asleep anymore. He simply leaned on Gene.
They walked inside the house, Gene fumbling for his keys for a moment before finally opening the door. When they got inside, Gene let Sam drop onto the nearest piece of furniture, which happened to be a couch. Gene was going to turn away before Sam’s hand poked him in the side.
“Coulda stay ‘ere..?”
Gene scoffed. “I’m heading to bed. If you wanna sleep with me that badly, get up and come there. I couldn’t give a flyin’ pig’s arse about whether or not you do so.”
“What..?”
Gene stalked away, feeling a little bad about leaving Sam behind, but he’d stand his ground.
-
He felt the sheets shuffle next to him a couple of minutes later, then a hand curl its way around his side. He didn’t bother acknowledging him, but he did smile a bit before going back to sleep.