Ryan showed up with a backpack and no plan.
Harvey heard the knock and opened the door to find him standing there, one strap hanging off his shoulder, phone in his hand like he'd been mid-message.
"Hey," Ryan said. "You busy."
Harvey stepped aside. "Come in."
Ryan dropped the backpack near the couch and looked around like he was seeing the place for the first time, even though he'd been there before. "Smaller than I remember."
"You were drunk last time," Harvey said.
"Still smaller," Ryan replied.
He didn't explain right away. He took off his jacket, sat down, stood up again, wandered to the kitchen, opened the fridge.
"You got anything to eat."
"Leftovers," Harvey said.
Ryan nodded like that solved something and grabbed a container.
They didn't talk for a minute. Ryan ate standing up. Harvey leaned against the counter and watched him do it.
Finally, Ryan said, "Got into it with my dad."
Harvey waited.
"Nothing huge," Ryan added. "Just one of those things where neither of you wants to be the first one to stop talking."
"Those usually last longer," Harvey said.
"Yeah," Ryan replied. "So I figured I'd get out for a bit."
"How long."
"Couple days. Maybe."
Harvey nodded. "Couch is fine."
Ryan smiled. "Knew you'd say that."
The apartment felt different with someone else in it. Louder, even when they weren't talking. Ryan's presence filled space Harvey hadn't noticed was empty.
They ordered food instead of cooking. Ate on the couch. Ryan talked more than Harvey. About work. About his girlfriend. About his dad. None of it heavy. Just venting without looking for answers.
Later, Ryan stretched out and turned on the TV without asking.
"You mind," he said, already scrolling.
"No," Harvey replied.
They watched something neither of them really cared about. Ryan commented on it. Harvey half-listened.
At some point, Ryan glanced over. "You okay. You've been quiet."
"I'm always quiet."
"Quieter than usual," Ryan said.
Harvey shrugged. "Work."
Ryan nodded. "Yeah. That tracks."
They didn't dig into it.
When it got late, Ryan pulled a blanket from the closet and dropped onto the couch.
"You got an extra pillow."
"Top shelf," Harvey said.
Ryan grabbed it and settled in without ceremony.
Harvey went to his room and lay down, listening to the unfamiliar sounds of someone else moving around. The couch creaking. The TV volume lowering. Ryan clearing his throat.
It was mildly irritating.
It was also grounding in a way he hadn't expected.
The next morning, the kitchen was already in use when Harvey came out. Ryan stood at the counter, phone propped up, coffee brewing.
"You're out early," Ryan said.
"Normal time."
"Wild," Ryan replied.
They ate without talking much. Ryan complained about the shower pressure. Harvey listened.
Before leaving for work, Harvey paused. "I'll be late."
Ryan waved him off. "Take your time."
The office swallowed Harvey again. The day moved fast. Messages stacked. Meetings blurred.
When he got home, Ryan was still there, shoes kicked off, scrolling on the couch.
"You alive," Ryan asked.
"Barely."
"Good," Ryan said. "I was thinking movie tonight."
Harvey hesitated, then nodded. "Sure."
Ryan grinned. "Knew you'd cave."
They left a little later, no plan beyond getting out of the apartment. The city felt different at night, louder, less contained.
Whatever pressure had been building during the day didn't disappear. It just loosened slightly, like a grip that had relaxed without letting go.
Harvey walked beside Ryan, hands in his pockets, letting the noise wash over him.
For the moment, it was enough.