*has only a split-second to drink in the details—your eyes look green, too, and your sleeves are pulled up—before he's catching you in his arms, the easy nonchalance sheeting away like the flimsy fib it is (he's thought of nothing but you, and the thought of you kept him on the edge of his seat all the way through the mountains)*
*backs you through the doorway, readily meeting your hot, hungry kisses, both hands sliding up your back, fingers and cell phone catching in the folds and creases of your shirt* *dimly recalls that his duffel is still sitting outside on the stoop, but he's blindly kicking the door shut anyway because outside is too far away to be worthwhile at the moment*
*feels your phone (still open, all but forgotten) pressing into the groove between his shoulderblades* *exhales through his nose, a soundless moan, and breathes soft words against your lips, around your tongue* God I've—mm, missed you—