Good Things Fall Apart

Zenith (Part I)

Victor blinks sunlight out of his eyes. For a moment his body tenses, every fiber reliving a false memory of waking beside Benji engulfed by a golden glow in the hospital.

He sucks in a sharp breath. This is real. Not just a dream, not just the manifestation of wishful thinking. It's real.

Benji's arms are still around him. Through the whole night, his arms kept Victor pinned to his own body, grounded. His breathing is deep and even. Victor rests in Benji's arms, his ears rejoicing in the sound of Benji existing beside him.

From their tangled position on the bed he can see the sun piercing the horizon, blinding shafts of sunlight already slanting off the ocean.

Victor rotates, careful as he can, not wanting to wake Benji. His arms tighten around Victor as he curls closer to Benji's body; he presses his face to Benji's chest and breathes him in, the scent of the beach and body wash and Benji, a smell he wishes he could bottle and keep all to himself.

"Mm, good morning," Benji mumbles and makes a little smacking noise with his mouth.

Victor giggles. "Morning. Sorry I woke you."

"S'okay," Benji says around a yawn. "How did you sleep?"

He does a quick diagnostic. Though he's cozy and comfortable, he doesn't feel particularly tired. Well rested. "Pretty good, all things considered."

"That's good," Beni says. His voice is gravel and goldenrod, a potent mixture of things that makes Victor's heart flip. "I really do think I just sleep better when you're with me."

Victor can't see Benji's face but he can hear his giddy smile. "I think so, too." Silence alights between them, slithering between their bodies and settling downy and familiar. They don't move or speak for several minutes, the distant sound of waves lulling them into some kind of trance.

"So, about last night," Victor finally says. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Benji blows a short breath through his nose then kisses the crown of Victor's head. "Do you want to talk about it? I think that's the more important question."

He shrugs and Benji's arms tighten around him for a moment. "I don't know. I haven't really had a lot of time to process it, we fell asleep right after..."

"If you want to talk it through, I can just listen."

"Yeah?"

"Always. I'll always listen."

Victor nods and readjusts himself. He has several inches on Benji, but being tucked up in his arms makes Victor feel small. Not in a bad sense; he feels like Benji is the world, or as big as it, enough to protect him from whatever may unfold.

"I really wasn't expecting it," he says, laughing in spite of himself. That's an understatement. "And it's making me look at what happened in a whole new light. I mean, of course I was upset about it already. It was horrible. But I didn't realize how much it would follow me around, I guess. It feels unfair, and then I feel guilty for feeling that way, because I only witnessed what happened, you know?"

He pauses. Benji hums and gently tugs on a strand of Victor's hair, twirling it between the pads of his fingers.

"What I really have to deal with is that all of these feelings are real," he decides, running his fingers up and down Benji's sternum. "They all exist and whether or not I like them or think they're...right, or whatever, they're all feelings I have, and that's okay. Right?"

"Mm-hmm," Benji hums. "I think that's exactly right. Your therapist would be proud."

Victor rolls his eyes and swats Benji's chest. "Shut up."