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The closer he got to the draft, the more trouble Kent had falling asleep. Once he was asleep, he slept fine, but he was worrying more and falling asleep later with each passing night. The fact that his boyfriend had a cold and was snoring inches away from him wasn’t helping, but at least Jack had been sleeping well, for once.

Jack sneezed against Kent's chest, groaning softly and rubbing at his nose.  "Gross, Zimms," Kent mumbled, but he made no effort to distance himself from Jack.  Instead, he brought one hand up to brush over Jack's cheek, checking again for any fever.  At the touch, Jack's eyelids fluttered and he looked up at Kent, lips parted.

"Still can't sleep, Kenny?" Jack's voice was hoarse and congested, and it had been for days. Kent kept hoping to find that Jack had a temperature—it would grant Jack a day off, and Lord, did that boy need it.

Kent shook his head. "Don't worry about me," he said, kissing Jack’s forehead. 

Jack sniffled and curled closer against Kent, one arm wrapping around and pulling them closer together. There was quiet for a long moment before Jack spoke, his breath hot on the skin of Kent's neck.  "Do you think we could be like this forever?"

Kent's heart ached.  On the list of things he loved, Jack and hockey were at the top, but Jack knew as well as he did that there was no way they could stay together. It was a moment of weakness, or a dream, like the ones normal people had when they slept.  He tucked the blanket around Jack's shoulders, resting one hand on his back.

"Try to go back to sleep, babe," he managed, hoping Jack was too tired to pick up on the tightness in his voice.  “We’ve gotta be up in a few hours.”