The Toy Master Series: Behind the Scenes

ONE-SHOT: A Little Love

Words: 3671

Couple: Bryn/Logan

Notes: Another Bryn/Logan request by spacedud, who might be one of the top Bryn/Logan fans, which I am entirely fine with. Sorry this took such a long time to write, I've been pretty tired with work and just with life in general, just exhausted with everything, but this was therapeutic to write. Mindless fluff makes everything better~

Ratings/Warnings: angst, vague mentioning of assault and self harm, major fluff, tragic backstory alert, mostly fluff.

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Bryn hadn't been sleeping much at all the past few days. Ever since Anton and the other Syndicate members had shown up, the most he ever did was lie down, but he never closed his eyes for long, kept tossing and turning under the covers like he couldn't get comfortable, and when he did manage to fall asleep he would only stay that way for an hour or two before waking up with a start, sitting upright and struggling to breathe.

Logan helped how he could, even if Bryn told him not to worry. The first night Anton was there, Bryn locked his window, which Logan had been using for weeks now to sneak in at night, for no reason really, he'd just gotten used to lying down with Bryn. He'd been annoyed of course, but shame on him if he didn't have the skills to effortlessly unlock the window using a pocket knife.

Shoving the window open and hopping into the room had certainly startled Bryn, who nearly fell off the bed where he was sitting, but before Logan could chew him out for shutting him out, which was frankly really rude, he zeroed in on the sound of knocking at the door, staring at the chair propped against it and under the door knob, all three locks engaged, then looked at Bryn.

"What's going on?"

"Keep quiet," Bryn hissed, getting off the floor and walking around the bed so he could shut the window, "I told you not to bother me right now."

"Why not? My room is cold."

"It's at least eighteen degrees out there," Bryn argued, waving at the window, and Logan stared at him blankly until he sighed and dropped his arm, "Sixty-five degrees fahrenheit."

"That's still cold," Logan argued, "You need to remember I'm from California, not Germany."

"I'm Austrian...," Bryn muttered as Logan looked back over at the door.

"Who's trying to bother you right now? Why do we have to whisper?" he paused, narrowing his eyes, "I don't see why we need to, whoever it is won't stop knocking long enough to hear anything from inside the room."

"Don't worry about it," Bryn mumbled, shuffling over to the bed and falling face first onto it, which was uncharacteristic in itself, "Just go back to your own room."

"Can you even sleep with this noise?" Logan asked, but Bryn didn't answer, so he breathed through his nose and started for the door, intent on throwing the chair in front of it into the face of whoever was bothering Bryn at one in the fucking morning.

"Don't," Bryn chided, and Logan stopped just as he grabbed the back of the chair to wrench it back, "Just... leave them be. Don't open the door."

Logan glared at Bryn before glaring at the door, forcing himself to release his hold and scowling as he turned away sharply, walking over to the bed and falling onto his back next to Bryn, "I'm not leaving," he decided, continuing when he got no response, "Tell me what's going on."

"Nothing..."

"Then I'll guess," Logan offered, rolling onto his side, "It's one of those men, right? The one's you told me about? The one's who always use you for therapy?"