Disclaimer: I own nothing.
The word home changed after his mom died.
It used to mean quiet humming in the mornings and the gentle nudge to wake up just before his alarm would go off.
Now it meant rowdy younger siblings that he wasn't even related to pounding on his door and asking if he was up yet.
It used to mean bowls of cereal that was just the right amount of soggy and cold to be delicious.
Now it meant warm pancakes and fingers sticky from the syrup being passed around by too many hands.
Home used to mean quiet steps and a silence filled with knowing looks and affection.
Now home meant being sandwiched between his boyfriend and his brothers as they sat and watched a funny movie together.
Before he lost his mom love meant a kiss to his forehead, even after he grew so tall he had to lean down for her to do it.
Now love meant waking up with a mop of black hair tickling his nose and warm breath ghosting across his neck.
It used to mean quiet birthdays with only the two of them as he wished for each year to be like the last.
Now it meant birthdays with his teammates dragging him out to party and his boyfriend finishing the night off with his own special present.
His life had changed so much after she died.
He still missed her everyday; it was a constant continual ache that he knew would never completely vanish.
But even though he'd lost a home and a love, he was never without either.
And he knew as long as he had people in his life like his team and the Kaplans, he knew never would be.
It's one in the morning. I don't know what this even is. I just had to get it out before the plot bunnies will let me sleep. I'm going to wake up tomorrow and be like 'what the hell is this' but tonight I'm just going to pretend it's a masterpiece and go to sleep.