Martin often came home late, the reason being well, hockey! His games or just him deciding to stay out for god knows how long so he could practice his strengths and improve his weaknesses. That was just his thing, always kinda has been

another late night you had spent trying to wait up for him but had failed horribly. Caving and falling asleep no later than 8pm, he got home around 9, which wasn’t the longest he had kept you waiting but it was up there. The sound of him dropping at least two pounds of gear onto the floor didn’t wake you, him stomping into the room didn’t either. What finally did it was his face pressing up against the back of your neck.

He didn’t expect that to finally wake you up but I guess he’s okay with that since he gets to talk to you for a bit before he eventually passes out himself

“Hey….sorry to wake ya, princess….”