“I’m not tired,” Alaska insists. They’re sprawled out on the couch in Andrew’s room, their head in his lap, and Andrew’s been threading his fingers through their hair for the past few minutes.
That’s a lie, and they both know it. Alaska’s yawned about five times in the last ten minutes - Andrew’s getting kind of sleepy just watching them.
“Suuure,” he says, voice tinged with disbelief, and they turn their head to scowl at him.
“No one said you were, Alaska.”
“Fuck you,” they try to snap, but the effect is ruined by another yawn.
They’re fast asleep in under a minute, head pushing into Andrew’s thigh, and he pushes their hair away from their face.
He grins when Alaska shifts slightly, snuggling more closely into his lap, one of their arms flung over both of his legs.
It only takes another five minutes before Andrew’s out like a light himself, his fingers still tangled in Alaska’s hair.