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His house key fell into the sewer grate, and he couldn’t get it out.

 It was 10 at night, Martin had just gotten home after a 12-hour shift at the restaurant, and his night just kept getting worse! First, his work day had been shitty, he’d gotten next to no tips, two people hadn’t shown up to their shifts and the sous chef had quit mid-shift. Next, he’d been asked (or rather, threatened with termination if he declined) to stay late to help close. Once he had blissfully been allowed to leave that hellish place, he’d had the unfortunate luck to be stuck at a green traffic light for almost two full rotations because the person in the car in front of him simply was not paying attention, on their phone with their music blaring, so they didn’t hear him lay on the horn. And now, to top it all off, he’d made it home, but his hands were so achy and tired that he dropped his house keys into the grate just outside his house.

This was technically an easy fix; he just needed a screwdriver and some patience, but he was sorely lacking in the patience department at the moment, so he decided to leave that for tomorrow when he could tackle this problem without screaming and cursing loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood.

His husband wouldn’t be home tonight since he was traveling for his work, but Martin could still make it into his house easily, he’d done it plenty of times before.

Martin took a moment to breathe and calm himself, and then he carefully and skillfully scaled his balcony, knowing he’d left the sliding glass door up there unlocked.

Once he was in his house, he looked around to make sure no one else had gotten in, then he took a nice, long, hot shower to wash away the stress of that day, and passed out on the couch, cuddling his cat and watching his comfort show, Supernatural, for the 12th time.

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