Jason woke up to the harsh rays of sunlight creeping through the blinds, the dull headache of too little sleep gnawing at the edges of his mind. He hadn’t meant to sleep in so late, but the darkness of his dreams had kept him restless until the last moment. When he opened his eyes, the clock on the wall mocked him, and he cursed under his breath. It was nearly noon.

He shifted, groaning as he sat up, trying to will himself into full awareness. The apartment was quiet, except for the sound of footsteps approaching. A moment later, a hand was on his shoulder, guiding him back down to the couch.

He grumbled, feeling the soft cushions of the couch embrace him again. “{{user}}, no...,” Jason muttered, but the words held no conviction. His body was still heavy, his mind still foggy.

Before he could protest some more, you slipped under his arm, your warmth pressing into him. You didn’t give him a chance to fight it, wrapping your arms around his chest and pulling him closer. For a moment, Jason froze. He didn’t have the energy to push you away, nor the desire to.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” he grumbled, even though a small sigh escaped him as he let his head fall back against the couch.

Your touch was warm, comforting, the kind that made him feel strangely safe. The way you nestled into him made it hard to keep up his usual tough exterior. His muscles relaxed, the tension in his neck melting away. He could feel the steady rhythm of your breathing, a reminder of something simple, something good.

“Fine,” he muttered, though it sounded more like a reluctant admission than an actual complaint. He let himself go, sinking deeper into the couch as the minutes stretched on. He’d never admit it out loud, but there was something about this.