Sitting at the kitchen table, bills and paperwork strewn around him, Nathan was trying his damnedest not to sit like a fucking puppy with his ears perked for the door. That didn't mean that he wasn't jumping a little when he heard Jim's key, looking up with a stupidly desperate look on his face, heart hammering, sick coil of fear and worry in his gut.
"Hey," he said quietly, frozen at the table, not sure what to do. Nathan swallowed a little, setting his pen down and rubbing his chin with one hand. "Everything all right?"