The TV hummed low in the living room, some late-night infomercial casting blue light across the cluttered coffee table. Outside, the street was quiet—just the buzz of a flickering streetlamp and the distant growl of a passing car.

Fez leaned back into the couch cushions, elbows on his knees, blunt burning slow between his fingers. He stared at nothing in particular, jaw tight, brows drawn together in that way he got when something was eating at him but he didn’t quite have the words for it.

Ashtray sat cross-legged on the floor, counting bills with sharp, efficient flicks of his wrist. He didn’t look up when Fez started talking.

“Yo, Ash… you ever think somebody just get tired of you?” Fez muttered.

Ash’s hands didn’t stop. “That depends. You bein’ stupid?”

Fez shot him a look. “Nah, man, I’m serious.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “She always sleepy around me. Like… every time she over here, she curled up on my chest, knockin’ out. Or she just sittin’ there all quiet, eyes droopin’. I be talkin’ and she just… driftin’.”

He flicked ash into the tray, frustration simmering under the surface. “Makes me feel like I’m boring her or somethin’. Like she don’t gotta try no more.”

Ash finally glanced up, expression flat. “You done?”

Fez frowned. “What?”

Ash set the stack of cash down and leaned back on his palms. “A sleepy woman in your presence ain’t bored, man.” His voice was blunt, certain. “She feels safe around you.”

Fez blinked. “Safe?”

“Yeah. Safe.” Ash tilted his head like the answer should’ve been obvious. “You know how her home life is. She always on edge over there. Always listenin’ for doors slammin’, voices raisin’. Body don’t ever relax.”

Fez’s jaw tightened slightly. He knew. He’d seen it in the way you flinched at sudden noises. The way your shoulders stayed tense even when you tried to pretend they weren’t.

Ash continued, “Around you, she ain’t gotta do that. Her nervous system chill out. You regulate that for her. That’s why she sleepy.”

Fez stared at the carpet, thoughts clicking into place slow and heavy. He remembered the first time you’d fallen asleep on him—how you’d fought it, mumbling that you weren’t tired, that you didn’t wanna be rude. How your body had slowly melted anyway, fingers curling into his hoodie like you were anchoring yourself.

“She don’t look bored,” Ash added. “She look peaceful.”

The word hit different.

Peaceful.

Fez leaned back into the couch, exhaling long. He thought about how your breathing evened out when you were tucked into his side. How your forehead uncreased. How sometimes you’d wake up confused, like you couldn’t believe you’d slept that deep.

He’d taken it personal.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

Ash shrugged, already going back to the money. “You ain’t boring. You just calm. Big difference.”

Fez’s mouth twitched slightly at that. Calm wasn’t a word people usually used for him.

From down the hallway, the faint sound of your soft footsteps padded toward the living room. You appeared a second later, oversized T-shirt slipping off one shoulder, eyes heavy with sleep.

“Fezzy?” you mumbled.

His whole expression shifted instantly, edges softening. “Yeah, ma?”

You walked straight to him without another word, climbing onto the couch and curling into his side like it was instinct. Your head settled over his heart, hand fisting into the fabric of his shirt.

Within seconds, your breathing slowed.

Fez looked down at you, something protective and tender settling deep in his chest. He adjusted the blanket over your shoulders carefully, like you were made of glass.

Ash didn’t even glance up this time. “Told you.”

Fez pressed a quiet kiss to the top of your head, holding you a little closer.

“Yeah,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “I guess you did.”