Anxiety. That feeling of a constricted chest. Breathing is difficult. It feels as though your heart could leap from your chest at any moment. You swear you can feel your pulse in every artery. Focusing is impossible. You can't even focus on your phone while awaiting a phone call, a text, anything. The idea that people used to manage without is unfathomable.

Richard knew these feelings well. Whenever Severin was out on a job, Richard knew. When would be the one time he didn't come home? When the other side, whether it be government or criminal, finally caught up to the blond soldier. It had to happen someday. The interim was just a waiting game. Usually he handled the anxiety better. A light drink, a script. Anything to draw his attention until his partner returned safely. This evening, though, he couldn't calm down and Jim definitely wasn't helping.

They weren't answering their phones. Either of the damn idiots. They knew they needed to be in constant contact. Jim's anxiety was palpable in the room. It spread like thick fog, covering everything in a heavy dew. He didn't like this feeling. Intuition told him that this would be the night they lost both blonds and Jim was beating himself up over it. He shouldn't have sent them both out. Should've had a different team handle this. Could've done more research. Wouldn't ever make this mistake again. Can't ever replace them. Richard would never forgive him over this and he would lose his beloved twin as well. He would end up alone. It was probably what he deserved, but the thought sent waves of cold through his body.

Richard didn't know what to do. He hadn't seen his twin act like this in years. Not since they were still living at home, before they had escaped that hell. Jim had been pacing the length of the room for the last hour, staring at his phone. Texting, calling, but never receiving a reply. Richard's calls never made it through either, always going straight to the voicemail he had set up on Severin's phone. He started to offer Jim a drink of the wine he had poured, hoping that it might help his brother since the effects were entirely lost on himself when they both heard the door to the flat swing open.

To say that the Moran twins were surprised by their welcoming was an understatement. Richard had leaped into Severin's arms plenty of times, though this time he landed on the ground with a grunt from the force. Oh well, he thought as he held the brunette, wounds can be re-bandaged. Comforting Richard took precedence.

Sebastian managed to stay upright as his own partner barreled into him, having only received a few scratches from crawling through the bushes compared to the gash on Severin's leg. He wrapped his arms around Jim and shushed him softly. Jim was definitely /not/ crying. His eyes were /not/ wet and he was Not. Fucking. Crying. Not a chance.

It wasn't long before the couples separated, Severin carrying Richard's to his room and Jim leading Sebastian to his fingers curled tightly around his wrist. Richard would have loved a big pile in the master suite, but they weren't out to Severin and Sebastian yet. That would have to wait. He made due with lazy sex, plenty of affection, and eventually fussing over the jagged gash on Severin's thigh that was never fully explained.

More sex was had in the master suite. Lazy sex that quickly evolved into rough sex, threats included. Soon after, Jim would apologize and Sebastian would as well, one for the threats and the other for not answering any of the phone calls or messages and cuddling would resume.

At some point the next morning (or afternoon), everyone would convene in the kitchen for a meal. Richards would cook, humming softly. Jim would actually help by making tea, while the blond soldiers finally filled Jim in on the mission and it's results.