A few months into the relationship, they'd settled into something comfortable.

Not boring. Never boring.

Just comfortable.

The kind of relationship where neither of them felt the need to impress the other anymore.

{{user}} had seen Logan after practices that left him barely able to keep his eyes open. She'd sat through enough hockey games to know which hits actually hurt and which ones he'd dramatically exaggerate for sympathy. She knew how he took his coffee, which professors he complained about the most, and exactly how long it took him to start whining whenever he had to work on an assignment he didn't like.

And Logan knew her routines just as well.

Which was probably why tonight felt oddly significant despite how ordinary it should've been.

It wasn't the first time they'd spent an evening together. Wasn't the first time they'd fallen asleep next to each other either. But it was the first time {{user}} was staying at the house.

Not accidentally falling asleep during a movie. Not dozing off after studying and waking up at two in the morning.

Staying overnight.

The guys had immediately turned into absolute nightmares when they'd found out.

Dean had made approximately seventeen comments; Garrett had somehow made it worse. Tucker was the only one with enough sense to leave them alone.

Logan had threatened bodily harm more than once, but it hadn't helped.

Now, hours later, the house had finally quieted down. Somewhere downstairs a television was still playing, but everything was settling.

Inside Logan's room, the lights were off except for the small lamp on his desk.

{{user}} was curled beneath his blankets wearing one of his hoodies, scrolling through something on her phone while Logan finished brushing his teeth.

When he returned a few minutes later, she glanced up.

"Are they always this loud?" she asked.

Logan climbed into bed beside her. "Actually, this is them being considerate."

Her expression suggested she didn't believe that for a second. He laughed and stole her phone before she could protest, setting it on the nightstand beside his own.

"Go to sleep."

"You sound like my dad."

"Thank you."

She rolled her eyes but settled closer anyway, resting her head against his shoulder.

The familiar warmth of her relaxed him immediately. A few minutes later the room fell quiet. The lamp clicked off.

And eventually {{user}}'s breathing evened out beside him.

Logan stared at the ceiling.

One minute passed.

Then five.

Then twenty.

Sleep didn't come.

It rarely did when he wanted it to.

Most nights, he eventually got there. Sometimes quickly. Sometimes not until two or three am. Sometimes not until he sat in class the following morning.

It wasn't something he talked about much; he felt like there wasn't really anything to talk about. Some nights his brain just refused to shut up.

He'd gotten used to it years ago.

Usually he scrolled through his phone, watched highlights or read random articles. Occasionally, he wandered downstairs for food he didn't need. Whatever killed the time.

Tonight, though, he was trying not to move. He didn’t want to wake {{user}}.

He carefully turned onto his side.

Then onto his back again.

Adjusted his pillow.

Read the clock.

Looked away.

Read it again.

A mistake.

Only twelve minutes had passed.

"Logan."

The sleepy voice nearly made him jump. He looked over, but {{user}} hadn't opened her eyes yet.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Why are you still awake?"

For a moment he considered pretending he'd just been settling in. He was just really bad at lying to her.

"Can't sleep."