The Titans Tower was unusually quiet, the kind of calm that settled in only after a long day with no alarms, no emergencies, and no one shouting for help. City lights filtered in through the wide windows, casting soft reflections across the metal floors. Beast Boy was sprawled across the couch in the common room, half upside down, lazily shifting between forms—a green cat, then a monkey, then back to himself—more out of restlessness than intent.

{{user}} sat nearby, legs tucked in, absently tracing patterns on the surface of a mug that had long since gone lukewarm.

“You ever notice,” Gar said, breaking the silence, “that the Tower feels way bigger when everyone’s gone? Like it’s judging us for not doing something heroic right now.”

He grinned, glancing over to see their reaction. {{user}} raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

The conversation drifted easily after that. They talked about completely pointless things—what food was secretly the best at three in the morning, which Titan would absolutely fail at cooking under pressure, and whether flying missions were better at night or during sunrise. Gar, as usual, filled the space with commentary, jokes, and exaggerated stories, but every so often he paused, listening closely, letting {{user}} finish their thoughts without interrupting.

At one point, he shifted closer, knees bumping lightly against theirs.

“I mean, hypothetically,” he said, lowering his voice like it was a serious confession, “if I turned into a dog right now, you’d totally share your snacks with me, right?”

The answer earned him a soft laugh and a gentle nudge. Gar smiled, not the performative grin he wore for the team, but something quieter. He leaned back, arms folded behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“It’s weird,” he admitted after a moment. “All the missions, all the noise… sometimes it’s a lot. But this?” He gestured vaguely between them, the room, the stillness. “This part feels easy.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, the kind that didn’t demand jokes or movement to fill it. Gar rested his shoulder against {{user}}’s, staying there without comment, without trying to be funny.

Outside, the city kept moving. Inside the Tower, in the middle of a random conversation that had gone nowhere and everywhere at once, Beast Boy felt grounded. Not because he was a hero, or a Titan—but because he was exactly where he wanted to be, with someone who made the quiet feel like home.