His apartment was quiet as he returned from work. The door opened and shut without even a click of the bolt. The deadbolt slid home effortlessly, well oiled to ensure silence. His footsteps made no noise as he crossed the floor into his room. First his suit jacket and then his tie fell silently onto his bed, blending in with his black blanket.
Juniper Vitale was a quiet man. He ran the Suits with quiet intensity and an iron fist that he was infamous for. He preferred order and proficiency in his organization and detested ineptitude. But he was not an unfeeling man. He enjoyed the arts thoroughly and his study was lined in bookshelves almost bursting with literature.
As he hung up his suit jacket, his eyes wandered over to the other half of his closet. It held suits, shirts, pants, and coats much like his half of the closet. These items, unlike his, were sized for a smaller, slimmer frame but no less tough. They belonged to someone who was so unique he could only be described by his name.
Deatoura was loud. Even in sleep, Juniper could not help but notice him. It was the hair. With that vibrant shade it was hard not to be noticed, Juniper mused as he rolled up his shirtsleeves and washed his hands to prepare dinner. How many nights did he stand here preparing dinner for the two of them while Deatoura sat on a counter top jabbering about his day and the Spades as if he hadn't seen Juniper the entire day?
But Deatoura was gone now. And so was the burst of color and sound that stood out in his apartment. All that was left was memories. Memories of him on the couch snoring with one of Juniper's documentaries droning in the background. Memories of his warmth against him. The memory of Deatoura's accent fading after he kissed him. Deatoura breathless meant no accent. But to be fair, they both were breathless and didn't say much when kissing and other things began.
Juniper sat down to his meal. He would not get maudlin. But he did miss Deatoura. Ritz understood. Maye didn't. Uena – if she had an opinion she hadn't and probably wouldn't give it unless he asked. That was his Suits. Their differences were their strengths and all of that was his. Except for Deatoura.
Finished with his meal, he did the dishes and began to read. It was silent, not even the dishwasher was heard over the slight whisper of pages being turned. Juniper heard a noise. It wasn't any of the normal pseudonoises that his apartment made. He continued to read. The noise did not bother him. If it was any different – meaning physically audible – he'd investigate.
It was late. Padding to his room, he noticed that it was bright. And noisy. He undressed and silently slipped into bed next to that brilliance. Quietly, as not wake him up, Juniper wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer. Deatoura turned into Juniper's chest, murmuring in his sleep. For tonight quiet and loud found comfort and peace in each other.