Disclaimer: Not mine and I make no money from them etc etc
The door slammed as Steve burst into the beach house causing two cups of coffee to lose half their contents over the kitchen table. The owners of the coffee cups watched in surprise as he stalked through the house and into his apartment.
"So I guess Steve's home. I don't think his day went well."
"I think you're right there, Jess."
"You think we should check on him?"
"Ah, no I don't think that would be at all wise…knowing my son and his rages it's safer for all concerned if we leave him to simmer down before even offering him coffee."
The shower started. 10 minutes later a damp but calmer Steve entered the kitchen.
"Hey Dad, Jess. Coffee fresh?"
"Sure is, here you go."
"Thanks Dad."
Steve took the mug offered to him and headed into the den. Sports commentary drifted through the house.
"I think that's your cue to go and do some Travis-style therapy. If you need me I'll be on the deck."
Jesse sat himself down on the opposite end of the sofa and let his eyes drift across the TV screen. Steve said nothing, seemingly engrossed in the basketball game. Several minutes passed with only the sound of the commentator. Then,
"Sorry Jess."
"What for?"
"Slamming around earlier. Had a bad day, guess I didn't work it all out at the gym."
"Ah don't worry Steve. Ya know, you can be pretty scary when you get mad!"
Steve just smiled a half smile and turned his attention back to the game.
Steve reached out an arm towards Jesse.
"Hey c'mere"
"Huh?"
"Please?"
"Oh, sure."
Jesse scooted along the couch until he was tucked in closely to Steve's side. Steve wrapped his arms around Jesse and buried his face into the blonde hair, inhaling deeply.
"Thanks"
"Anytime"
Mark peered cautiously into the den some time later, smiling tenderly at the sight that greeted him. Steve was stretched fully along the length of the couch, limbs intertwined with Jesse who was held securely in his embrace. The sound of the TV was muted and all that could be heard was the deep and even breathing of his sleeping son. Jesse was tracing lazy circles on Steve's stomach with his free hand whilst keeping half his attention on the football match now being shown. Mark left the room and quietly shut the door behind him, knowing that cuddling with someone who loved him was by far the best form of therapy for one of LA's finest.
