It had been one of those rare, quiet days.

No emergencies. No missions. No sudden calls pulling the team in five different directions. The mansion was calm for once, and even Scott had managed to escape the usual pile of paperwork and the pounding migraines that liked to sit behind his visor.

For once, he could just… exist.

You both had taken advantage of it.

Breakfast together. Lunch too. Actual meals, not rushed bites between responsibilities. And somewhere in between, you had finally started that show you’d both been putting off for weeks, always saying “we’ll watch it when things slow down.”

Things had slowed down.

So now, here you were.

The TV played softly in the background, the light flickering across the room in warm, shifting tones. The volume was just loud enough to follow, but not loud enough to break the quiet comfort that had settled around you both.

Scott lay stretched out on the bed, one arm tucked behind his head, relaxed in a way he rarely let himself be. The other rested loosely across you, his hand absentmindedly draped over your collarbone like it had just… found its place there and decided to stay.

You were sprawled across him sideways, completely unbothered by the position. Your head rested near his waist, your body angled across the bed as you balanced your attention between the show and the game on your phone.

Every now and then, Scott’s fingers would shift slightly against you. Not enough to distract, just enough to remind you he was there. Grounded. Present.

He tilted his head just a bit, gaze flicking between the screen and you, a small, barely-there smile tugging at his lips.

“This is nice,” he said quietly, voice softer than usual, stripped of command and responsibility.