Hold you Together || Colt and Dolph
December was really cold. Like really fucking cold. Yet, Colt couldn't bring himself to drive his car to work everyday. The subway was warm and it was only a fifteen minute walk from the subway station to their house anyways. He could survive fifteen minutes of bitten, fucking cold winds.
"Geez. So cold. So very, very cold."
That didn't mean that he wouldn't complain of course. Which he was doing, happily, as he ran up the steps and let himself into the house. He jumped around a bit, warming himself up enough to take off his jacket and gloves. He rubbed the small bandage on his bicep, Punk had asked for something...and he'd been left with a nice little gash. Good thing his best friend was well versed in stitches, and that people believed Colt was horribly accident prone.
"Poodle! I'm home!" He'd seen the messages on the dash, and he walked around the house carefully. Not wanting to step on his fiance. "Where are you, floor master?"
