Witching Hour

[inferiorwit]

Jay couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t a new problem; he had a suspicion his parents had started giving him computers as a kid just to keep him from wandering the house at night and scaring the life out of them.

On this particular occasion he’d given up any hope of a good night’s rest by about three in the morning, waiting instead for the chorus of bird calls which announced to every insomniac that the dawning day was irrevocably fucked. It’d be pigeons, this time of year—many of London’s other birds had flown south for the winter.

Sebastian lay sound asleep next to him, despite Jay’s tossing and turning. Jay wouldn’t have expected him to sleep so deeply, but maybe a soldier had to learn to sleep through anything. They’d met up earlier—yesterday, now—after an uneventful day on Jay’s part and a frustrating client meeting on Sebastian’s, having a few drinks together before heading back to Jay’s flat for the evening.

If Sebastian hadn’t woken up yet, it was probably safe for Jay to check his phone. But as he reached toward the bedside table where he’d left it charging, a soft pained noise sounded from the other side of the bed.

Jay rolled to face him. “Sebastian?”

Sebastian’s body was a vague outline in the dark; he didn’t answer, but after a second or two made another sound, low in his throat, and shifted uneasily beneath the covers.

He was having a nightmare.

Jay sat up, instinctively reaching over to wake him—but he knew, by now, what could happen when Sebastian’s demons came creeping out of the shadows. And Sebastian was fast; if he came up swinging, Jay’s odds of dodging him weren’t good.

Sebastian was moving restlessly against the bed now, those quiet sounds of distress escalating into heartbreaking gasps and moans. Jay curled up against the headboard and chewed his lower lip, watching over him as best he could without any light to see by.

He had to do something.

Jay eased closer, slow and careful, and lightly rubbed Sebastian’s arm in the hopes of waking him gently. Sebastian didn’t react to the touch at all, still trapped in the nightmare. And so, bracing himself, Jay gripped Sebastian’s shoulder and gave him a firm shake.

A hand locked around Jay’s wrist as he was shoved over onto his back, Sebastian’s body bearing him down against the mattress. His arm pressed across Jay’s throat—not cutting off his air, but making it clear that was an option.

Jay couldn’t see Sebastian’s face, but the chest pressed to his rose and fell in short, ragged gasps. Middle of the night, unfamiliar bed, unfamiliar room—it was possible Sebastian had no idea where he was. Or when.

He’d shown Jay how to break a hold like this. Exactly like this, in fact. While Sebastian had been teaching Jay to defend himself, had he been worrying the whole time that Jay would need defending from him?

Jay tensed, ready to twist free—but Sebastian hadn’t pressed the advantage. He hadn’t done anything at all except pin him and hold him still.

Experimentally, Jay called out, “Sebastian?”

Sebastian’s breath hitched—a small, shocked noise.

Quiet, yet firm, Jay said, “Let me go.”

A tremor rolled through Sebastian’s body; then the arm across his throat was gone, as was the hand around his wrist. Sebastian’s weight shifted off him all at once, the mattress jostling beneath them as he scrambled back.

Jay pawed blindly at the bedside table until he found the switch for the lamp. Light flooded the room, revealing Sebastian huddled at the foot of the bed with one hand clamped over his mouth, staring at Jay in guilty horror.

The sight made Jay’s stomach drop. “You didn’t hurt me,” he murmured, keeping his voice soft.

Sebastian flinched away, reflexively shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Look at me,” Jay barked, fear and worry and sleep deprivation burning off the last of his patience.

Sebastian’s eyes flew open, reality creeping in through the panic as his gaze flickered across Jay’s body.

“You didn’t hurt me,” Jay repeated, more sharply this time.

A shivery little sigh of relief escaped from between Sebastian’s fingers. He rubbed both hands over his face as he rolled off the bed, stumbling unsteadily from the room.

After a moment, Jay got up and followed Sebastian out.

There was a bit of light coming in from the streetlights outside. Jay could just make out the silhouette of Sebastian leaning over the kitchen sink; the tap was running, and he swallowed a few quick handfuls of water before splashing more over his face. Then he braced himself against the counter, breathing slowly—struggling to calm himself down.

Jay hovered a few steps away, uncertain how Sebastian would react if he closed the distance between them.

After a moment, Sebastian rasped out, “I’m used to sleeping alone.”

“It’s all right,” Jay replied, and wondered how many nightmares Sebastian had endured with nobody to wake him.

Sebastian didn’t respond, and didn’t move from where he was bent over the sink.

They were both naked. Jay kept the heat turned down at night, and now Sebastian was shivering, tremors rattling through his shoulders and back. Edging closer, Jay rested a hand on Sebastian’s arm. Sebastian sighed and leaned into the touch.

Jay pressed a light kiss to Sebastian’s skin. “Come back to bed.”

Sebastian glanced at Jay over his shoulder; he opened his mouth to speak, maybe to tell him that was a bad idea, but nothing came out.

Jay slid his hand down the length of Sebastian’s arm and laced their fingers together. Then he stepped back, tugging Sebastian away from the counter.

Sebastian didn’t resist as Jay led him back to the bedroom. Outside, the birds began to mutter and wake.