I sighed.
Fuck it if I wasn't getting attached to him, and it was different from loving my niece and nephew. JJ and Linda had been kids. Actual kids. Julian was grown-up, and we had more in common. We were equals, which I supposed played a big role.
Eventually, the music faded to a close. I didn't hear him pad closer on the hardwood floor, but I waited for the sound of his door opening and shutting.
The unease was back in my stomach. I had no fucking clue why.
It'd been a good day.
Moments later, it was my door that opened.
A floorboard creaked, and then the bed dipped with his weight, and yeah, this was strangely right. The unease faded like his music had, and I stretched out my arm.
"I'm glad you played," I murmured sleepily.
"I'm obligated." There was a grin in his voice, and I smirked to myself as he settled in. His pillow ended up on top of my arm, and he scooted as close as he dared.
"Stand-in pet reporting for duty." I yawned and drew him closer so I could put an arm over his middle. His T-shirt was threadbare and soft, and I was thankful for the barrier. With my luck and the way I sometimes tossed and turned, I'd tear off his nipple piercing in my sleep if he'd slept bare-chested like I did.
He laughed softly, his breath hitting my sternum, and burrowed his arms and hands into my chest. They were fucking freezing.
"The piano made of ice?" I grumbled.
"Yes."
"I can tell." I smiled into his hair, ignoring the faint warning bells going off. I wasn't stupid; I knew this wasn't normal, but our lives weren't fucking normal. Not anymore. "Sleep. No workout tomorrow."
"Thank fuck," he whispered. "Good night."
"Night, icicle."
*
It became somewhat of a routine. Whenever we needed closeness to ward off nightmares and anxiety, we sought each other out and shared a bed. It was indescribably comforting not to be alone, and it worked, too. Maybe too well.
I was decent at ignoring those warning bells, but it came back to bite me in the ass.
One night was anything but peaceful. Around three AM, I bolted out of bed with my heart pounding, a ringing noise in my ears, and horror coursing through me.
"Take it." I pushed my cock in and out of his tight ass, and he moaned, caught between me and a wall. "Fuck, so perfect."
He begged for more. I covered his mouth with my hand so the others wouldn’t hear us.
Bile rose in my throat, and I rushed to the bathroom across the hallway. Nothing came up, but I heaved over and over.
New nightmare. A vivid one. I couldn’t get the images out of my head.
"Please let me come," he moaned as I reached around to stroke him. He was hard and smooth in my hand, and I wanted to taste. "Oh God, Noah…"
"Shhh, be quiet," I whispered. Our family was downstairs, for chrissakes. "Can't fucking get enough."
I shuddered and spat into the toilet before standing up. My heart wouldn't fucking calm down. I felt sick to my stomach with revulsion.
What's wrong with me?
I fisted my hair and squeezed my eyes shut.
Even I had limits.
Going to the living room, I ended up pacing for ages. I'd never been good at stewing in my own shit, though. I needed to bounce off ideas and interact. I needed someone to tell me I wasn't a goddamn head case.
I felt bad, but after about an hour or so, I was only working myself up more. I'd make it up to him, but I needed to talk.
The nausea came back as I snuck into my room to grab a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt. Julian slept peacefully on my pillow. If only he knew what I'd dreamed.
I promptly left and grabbed my phone on the way.
Once outside the loft, I scrolled down my phone to Tennyson's number and called him.
Come on, man.
He answered on the third ring. "Noah?"
"Yeah, sorry to wake you up." I was a fucking tool. "Mind coming out and talking to me for a minute?"
There was some rustling in the background as he got out of bed. "Uh, yeah. Of course. Be right there." He hung up, and I returned to pacing.
I was assaulted with more memories from the dream, and it made my skin crawl.
I kissed him, groaning in pleasure. My hands couldn’t stay away. I'd never needed someone this desperately in my goddamn life.
Tennyson opened the door and stumbled out, rubbing his eyes from sleep. "What's wrong?"
"I am," I replied. I ran a hand through my hair and blew out a breath, frustrated with myself. Disgusted. "Sorry again for waking you up."
He waved it off and yawned. "When I say you can call me anytime, I actually mean it. So what's bothering you? Nightmares?"