The low hum of the city outside filtered through the cracked window, blending with the soft rhythm of Jason’s breathing as he lay sprawled across the couch. His muscles ached from the mission—another night of chaos. But for the moment, he was still, his head lolling to the side.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep here. The couch was a far cry from the comfort of his bed, but his body betrayed him, too drained to even make it that far. His hand still clutched the hem of his jacket, the dark fabric wrinkled from the hours he'd spent hunched over his work. A soft weight pressed against his side, but it didn't register in his groggy state. It wasn’t until a soft shift of warmth against his chest that Jason finally stirred.

His eyes cracked open, and at first, all he saw was the familiar shape of his apartment—the cluttered coffee table, the half-empty mug of cold coffee, and the low light filtering through the blinds. But then he felt it—someone next to him. A soft breath against his skin, a warmth he hadn’t expected.

He froze, his brow furrowing. When did you…?

His mind still foggy, Jason shifted slightly, taking in the way you were curled against him. A quiet sigh slipped past his lips. Your face was tucked against his chest, your arm thrown across his stomach as though you'd sought the warmth of his body without even thinking about it.

His first instinct was to shove you off—no one was supposed to get that close, not a day in his life had he allowed that kind of closure. But then he felt the weight of your body, the slow, steady rise and fall of your breath, and something in him softened.

Jason let out another exasperated sigh, one hand coming up to rub his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a peaceful night’s sleep, and this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but damn if it didn’t feel like... relief. His arm moved instinctively, drawing you closer, pressing you gently into the warmth of his side. It was more comfortable, more natural, even though it pissed him off to admit it.