this was inspired by @linaxart's art of joe bc i couldn't stop thinking about it this morning. enjoy
It sounds dramatic when he says it, like he's overexaggerating, but it's true: Joe can't sleep without him.
Not well, at least. He sleeps curled around a pillow, just to be holding something, but it's not the same. Like that, he only manages a few hours at a time, and what little sleep he gets is fitful. He's been exhausted for days. It's like his brain recognises that there's something missing, something that he can't truly rest without.
Nicky had called yesterday, after almost a week of radio silence, having finally reached a place he could safely call from. Most of their conversation had been about the job, information that Joe had passed onto Andy after Nicky hung up, but Nicky had promised to be home soon. So Joe is waiting for him, having already finished his part of the job.
It shouldn't still be this way, really. They've been together for 900 years. Joe shouldn't still feel this unsteady whenever they're apart, and yet he does. He knows Nicky's the same way.
Joe's in the kitchen for now, baking just to have something to do with his hands, half focused on kneading the dough and half focused on wondering what Nicky's doing right now, if he's finished the mission already, or if he'll call tonight to say I'm sorry, tesoro, I need a few more days.
He gets his answer when the doorbell rings. Joe's heart skips a beat, even as he leaves the dough on the counter and reaches for the gun on the kitchen table. Better to be safe, after all.
He doesn't need it, in the end, because when he opens the door, Nicky is on the other side, looking just as exhausted as Joe feels. Joe sets aside his gun, his shoulders sagging with the relief of seeing him again, before pulling Nicky into the apartment and into his arms, tucking his face into the crook of Nicky's shoulder and breathing easily for the first time in days. Nicky kicks the door shut, or at least Joe assumes he does, before his arms circle Joe's waist to hold him just as tightly. They don't speak, not for a long time, just stand like that without even bothering to move properly into the apartment.
"Is it done?" Joe asks, his voice muffled.
Nicky's hand strokes along his spine. "Yes," he replies. "Andy and Nile?"
"Said they'd be back tomorrow," Joe says. They've all been apart for too long - it'll be good to see them again. Nicky hums, and something settles back into place.
"I missed you," he says softly. "I haven't been able to sleep, either."
Eventually, they part, albeit reluctantly. But they stay close: Joe finishes off the dough while Nicky sits at the kitchen table, looking half asleep. Once the dough is proving, Joe decides the rest of the world can wait for a while and offers Nicky his hand. Nicky takes it, smiling. Joe pulls him to his feet and leads him to their bedroom.
And when they lie down and Joe curls around his back, holding him tight, the last remnants of the tension Nicky had been holding disappear. Joe can't see his face like this, but he knows he's smiling.
They're both asleep within seconds.
