AN: Part of a longer fanfic I have up on another site. This is post-original series, pre-AYITL. They've met in Hamburg after years apart and now Rory is visiting him in London for the first time. Logan's POV.
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Logan woke in the middle of the night, wrapped white sheets and the fluffy down duvet of his bed. He was in London, in his bachelor apartment, the familiar sound of rain patter behind his window having by now become the norm.
This time, however, he wasn't sleeping in the middle of the bed, like he had for years, but somehow positioned himself towards the left side. It was as soon as he became aware of his nakedness, and sensed his arm was against another warm body, sharing his blanket, he realized he'd settled to the left out of habit. A habit so burnt into his brain he hadn't even consciously thought of it. A habit that had been buried for years and had only now resurfaced.
Rory always slept on the right. Well - almost. She slept on the left in case he was late, wanting him to wake her as he climbed into bed. Something about her wanting to fall asleep with his scent on the pillow if she couldn't cuddle. She'd made a whole big thing of it once, trying to explain her reasoning.
But still - no matter where - it was their division on the bed that they ended up in no matter in what country, what hotel, what bed, or their state of drunkenness.
The night before had actually been pretty sober. Dinner, a walk along the streets of London - catching up.
At this point Logan was free as a bird, with a few contacts on his phone to call if he wanted company. But he wasn't seeing anyone, not seriously at least. But this felt different. More real. More comforting certainly than just a casual fuck. Not a lot of men in their early thirties admitted that they missed that comfort, and neither had he, not in length at least.
Rory stirred, adjusting her position slightly, but stayed fast asleep.
So they were definitely doing this again. It hadn't been just that one time in Hamburg.
As he'd suggested, she'd called him up when she'd been on her way to London for a story, and as cliche as it might sound one thing had led to another, yet again. She hadn't even hidden it that she'd chosen the London based story over another one, Portland or Seattle - something like that, just to come to London, which naturally made Logan feel a little flattered. She'd chosen to come to him.
It was then Rory stirred again, her hand instinctively going around his side, under his arm. That was what made this different - not only was she spending the night, there would also be no awkward exit or need to avoid casual strokes or not necessarily sexual kisses, for example on the temple, that had come so naturally, that would leave someone one was just casual with running scared or reading too much into this. He didn't need to be on guard with what he did with her - sure, watching what he said was still topical, many things left undefined, but without hesitation he knew he could reach out his hand and stroke her ass, and let his strokes move closer and closer to her core.
His cock twitched at that thought already.
He edged himself a little closer, as if wanting to charge himself full of those good emotions. Rory's arm now bent around his chest in its entirety, and her fingers caressed his back muscles dreamily. One of her firm nipples now almost reaches his chest.
Her closeness was intoxicating.