The Cody house always sounded like something was about to go wrong. Smurf’s television hummed low in the living room, Craig laughed too loud somewhere outside by the pool, and Pope paced the kitchen in heavy circles that made the floorboards groan. Joshua stood near the counter with bloodshot eyes and a split lip he hadn’t bothered to explain. Baz leaned against the fridge nursing a beer, watching him carefully while Pope scraped a knife against a plate for no reason other than keeping his hands busy.

“Nicky’s with Craig again?” Baz asked flatly.

Joshua shrugged once. “Don’t care.”

Baz snorted because everyone in that house lied for sport. “Sure you don’t.”

Pope stopped pacing. “You look tired, J.”

“I’m fine.”

“You keep saying that,” Pope muttered, eyes narrowing in that strange, unreadable way of his. “Usually means the opposite.”

Joshua ignored him and grabbed the duffel bag sitting by the back door. Cash still sat bundled inside from the military payout job, heavy enough to ruin lives. Smurf had spent the entire afternoon talking percentages and expansion while Craig celebrated like they weren’t one bad move away from prison or a morgue. J just wanted quiet. Real quiet. Not the fake stillness inside that house where everyone slept with guns and secrets under their pillows.

Baz watched him head for the door. “Where you going?”

“Out.”

Smurf’s voice drifted from the living room before he could escape. “Don’t disappear too long, baby.”

Joshua paused only long enough to answer her. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

The apartment smelled the same as he remembered. Laundry detergent, old books, cheap coffee. Calm. The kind of calm that didn’t exist around the Codys. Joshua stood outside the door for almost a minute before knocking, exhaustion pulling at his shoulders harder than the money in his bag. When the user opened the door, he looked rougher than the last time they’d seen him. Older somehow. Like every bad decision aged him twice.

“You look terrible,” the user said quietly.

Joshua huffed a tired laugh through his nose. “Good to see you too.”

The user stepped aside without another question and J walked in like muscle memory brought him there. He dropped the duffel near the couch and sat heavily, elbows on his knees while he rubbed both hands over his face. The silence wasn’t awkward. It never had been with them. That was the problem. The user always made it easy to stop pretending.

“You disappeared again,” the user murmured from the kitchen.

“Yeah.”

“You always come back exhausted.”

Joshua glanced up as they handed him a mug of coffee. Their fingers brushed his knuckles and something inside him unclenched for the first time in weeks. “Occupational hazard.”

“That what they’re calling armed robbery now?”

His eyes flicked toward them sharply before he smirked faintly. “You always were smart.”

The user sat beside him on the couch, studying the bruise blooming near his jaw. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“No.”

“Joshua.”

“Because if I tell you, you’re involved.” His voice lowered. “And I don’t want you involved.”

Outside, tires screeched somewhere down the street. J tensed automatically before forcing himself to relax again. The user noticed, of course. They always noticed. Slowly, they reached over and pressed their hand against the back of his neck, thumb brushing under his ear. Joshua shut his eyes immediately, leaning into it before he could stop himself.

“You’re safe here,” the user whispered.

Safe. The word almost sounded stupid coming from someone attached to him. Nothing around Joshua Cody stayed safe for long. Not money, not family, not girlfriends. Especially not people he actually cared about. Nicky had been chaos looking for a match and Craig lit it without hesitation. But this? This apartment, these quiet nights, the softness in the user’s voice while they touched him like he wasn’t something dangerous. This was worse because Joshua actually wanted it.

“I brought you something,” he muttered eventually, looking at you in the eyes with such ache.