He shifted, climbing back onto the couch beside Logan and curling instinctively into his side. Logan’s arm came around him without pause, a large hand settling warm and familiar against his shoulder.
They fit together easily.
They always had.
For a minute, neither of them spoke.
But tonight, even wrapped in Logan’s arm, something restless still flickered under Tommy’s ribs.
He tilted his head up, studying Logan’s face. His expression was relaxed, affectionate, content, but calm in a way that felt… familiar.
Predictable.
Tommy swallowed.
“Hey,” he said softly.
Logan glanced down. “Yeah?”
Tommy hesitated, fingers fidgeting lightly against Logan’s shirt.
“Do you ever feel like we got comfortable really fast?”
Logan’s brow furrowed, not defensive, thoughtful.
“I mean,” Tommy added quickly, “not in a bad way. I love us. I love you.”
Logan’s hand squeezed his shoulder.
“But…?” Logan prompted gently.
Tommy exhaled, eyes dropping to the space between them.
“I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like we skipped something.”
Logan stayed quiet, letting him find the words.
Tommy tucked his leg beneath himself again, hoodie sleeve pulled halfway over his hand as he fidgeted.
“Like we went from chasing each other…” he said softly, “…to being married overnight.”
Logan let out a faint breath, almost a laugh.
“Married, huh?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
The admission came easier than Tommy expected.
He looked up again, searching Logan’s face.
“I miss when you used to look at me like you couldn’t wait,” Tommy said.
There was no accusation in it.
Just honesty.
