The Nifheim hummed quietly around you as the ship’s artificial night cycle kicked in. You and Mickey were curled up on the couch, limbs tangled. Days off were rare, and you weren’t about to waste a second of it.

Mickey exhaled against your shoulder. “Feels weird, huh? Everyone else is off their ass on that stuff, and we’re just here. Doing nothing.”

You smirked, playing with the hem of his shirt. “You say that like doing nothing with me is a bad thing.”

He huffed a laugh, tilting his head to nuzzle your neck. “Nah, not a bad thing… Just nice, y’know? Being here. With you.”

Your heart softened, and you reached into your pocket, fingers brushing a small plastic bag. “Actually,” you murmured, pulling it out. “I did bring something for us.”

Mickey sat up, eyes flicking to the bag. The moment he saw it, his body tensed. “Tell me that’s not oxy.”

You frowned. “Seriously? You really think I’d—” With a sharp exhale, you turned the bag so he could see the faded Earth-brand logo. “They’re weed gummies.”

Mickey blinked. “Weed gummies?”

“Yeah.” You smirked. “Brought ‘em from Earth before I left.” You flipped the bag, inspecting the hardened candies. “Might be a little stale. Y’know, since it’s been four years.”

Mickey stared, then let out a breathless laugh. “Wait—these are four-year-old weed gummies?”

“Yep.”

He shook his head, laughing as he plucked the bag from your fingers. “Babe, these are probably rock solid.”

“Probably,” you admitted, nudging your nose against his. “But I wanted to share them with you.”

Mickey’s smile softened as he opened the bag. “You’re such a sap,” he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, he popped one of the ancient gummies into his mouth, immediately making a face.

“Oh, yeah. That’s terrible.”

You laughed, doing the same—and yeah, they were awful, but you didn’t care. Because Mickey was here, pressed against your side, his laughter warm in your ear, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel light-years away from home.