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The safe house was quiet in that deep, late-night way that felt almost unnatural after days of constant noise. Outside, the city slept under a sky dulled by light pollution, but inside the old building the silence was complete-no creak of footsteps, no voices in the hall.
Joe slipped through the front door like a ghost. His movements were slow, deliberate. He shut the lock without a sound, leaning against the doorframe for a long moment as his body reminded him it was running on exhaustion.
It wasn’t just his muscles. His bones ached, his thoughts felt frayed. The mission had been… darker than usual. He’d seen worse before over centuries, he’d seen almost everything but each time was still its own wound, fresh in its own way. Every face stayed with him longer than it should.
He ran a hand over his curls, the strands still damp from the drizzle outside. He didn’t even turn on the lights. He didn’t need to see anything; what he needed was in one room, waiting for him.
The hall was dim, moonlight spilling through the cracked blinds. He counted the steps without thinking- twelve to the bend, four to the door. The bedroom door was ajar, the faint golden light from the streetlamp outside catching the outline of the bed.
Nicky was there, sleeping on his side, his breathing slow and even. One hand rested loosely near his face on the pillow. The sheets were pulled up to his shoulder, and his soft brown hair was mussed in that way that made Joe’s chest tighten, like even in sleep Nicky was human enough to be disheveled and angelic all at once.
Joe stopped in the doorway for a long moment, just looking at him. Centuries, and still he found himself in awe. Still he couldn’t quite believe that after every mission, every battle, every century of chaos, there was this- Nicky in a warm bed, waiting without having to wait, because Joe would always come home.
He undressed quietly, boots first, set carefully against the wall. Jacket, shirt, the cold weight of his weapons belt on the chair. By the time he slid under the covers, the clock on the nightstand was creeping toward 4 a.m.
The bed shifted as he lay down. He meant to be careful, to let Nicky sleep. But even in sleep, Nicky was attuned to him in a way that time could never dull. He stirred, brow furrowing faintly before his lashes lifted, and those ocean-green eyes blinked sleepily at him.
“Hey,” Nicky murmured, voice warm and rough with sleep.
Joe’s chest constricted. That one word was enough to start melting the cold in his veins. “Hey, you,” he whispered back.
Nicky’s mouth curved in the faintest smile. “Welcome back.”
Joe couldn’t help it as he smiled, tired but real. “I missed you.”
“I know,” Nicky said simply, his hand finding Joe’s under the blankets. He gave it a gentle squeeze before lifting his arm in silent invitation.
Joe didn’t hesitate. He went into his embrace like a man slipping into the only shelter he trusted. The moment Nicky’s warmth closed around him, the noise in his head began to quiet. He tucked his face into Nicky’s neck, breathing him in- soap, clean sheets, the faint trace of toothpaste from earlier in the night.
“I was worried about you,” Nicky murmured, his lips brushing Joe’s hair. “Not because I doubted you’d come back. But because I know how heavy it gets out there.”
Joe hummed, the sound low against his throat. “It was… heavy,” he admitted. “Too much of the wrong kind of people. Too many reminders of what this world can be.”
Nicky’s hand traced a slow path up and down his back. “And still, you keep walking into it.”
“You know why,” Joe whispered.
Nicky’s voice softened further. “I do. But that doesn’t mean I like watching it take pieces of you each time.”
They lay like that for a while, no more words, just the quiet rhythm of their breathing. Joe felt his body unclench little by little, the fight bleeding out of him now that he was exactly where he needed to be.
“I thought about you,” Joe said eventually, voice almost too quiet to hear.
“I hope so,” Nicky teased gently, but his hand never stopped its steady motion against Joe’s back.
“Not just because I missed you,” Joe went on. “But because sometimes the only way I can keep moving is to think about this—coming home to you. It’s the one thing that never changes, no matter what century it is.”
Nicky kissed the crown of his head. “Good. Because it’s the one thing that never will.”
Joe smiled against his skin, the first unguarded smile he’d managed since leaving. “You’re my shelter, Nicolò.”
Nicky’s hold tightened, protective and certain. “And you’re mine. Always.”
The world outside could tear itself apart for all Joe cared right now. Inside this bed, wrapped in the arms of this beautiful man he’d loved for nine centuries, nothing else mattered.
Joe pressed a slow kiss to the back of Nicky’s neck. “Stay here. Don’t let me go.”
“Never.”
And just like that, the restless tide inside Joe stilled. The night, the mission, the weight, it all faded under the simple truth of being here, in Nicky’s arms. For the first time in three days, his breathing evened out. His lips brushed Nicky’s shoulder in one last, sleepy kiss, and then he let go, finally falling into dreamless, quiet sleep.
The world would still be harsh tomorrow. But tonight, in this bed, in this moment, Joe had everything he’d ever wanted.