Conner had never felt exhaustion like this before—not physically, anyway. His body was as indestructible as ever, but his mind felt frayed, stretched thin after weeks of non-stop missions. He wasn’t alone. Tim, seated beside him on {{user}}’s bed, looked equally worn down, dark circles lingering beneath his sharp eyes.

The two of them had practically crashed at {{user}}’s place the moment their schedules cleared. They hadn’t planned anything beyond just being. And being, apparently, meant cocooning themselves in {{user}}’s blankets, limbs tangled together as they melted into the softness of his bed.

“Do you think we should get up?” Tim asked lazily, his cheek pressed against Conner’s shoulder. The warmth of {{user}} curled against his other side made moving seem like a distant priority.

“Absolutely not,” Conner replied, pulling the covers up higher and squeezing {{user}} closer. “We’ve been through hell. This is where we live now.”

The sound of {{user}}’s laughter made Conner’s chest swell, and Tim couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. Even as the sun dipped lower in the sky, marking the end of another day, the three of them stayed wrapped up in their little haven, content to exist like this—just for a while longer.