just straight cuddling since no one on this platform does it right

this is it, the whole thing

I had fallen asleep long before he returned to the hotel room. I hadn't even noticed him slip into the firm, scratchy bed we've been forced to share. Thinking of sharing a bed with him makes me feel nauseous, but as long as I fall asleep before he returns from whatever he does at this time of night (something I doubt is helping us to find our target), I manage. I was woken from my sleep not by him sliding in next to me, but by a strained whimper long after he had returned and fallen asleep. Barely conscious, I nearly fall back asleep before I'm jolted fully awake by a loud gasp beside me as he jerks up from his sleep into a seated position. Without moving I watch his silhouette in the dark room. He's panting, hard. From what I can see he's sweating through his cotton t-shirt, causing it to stick to his back, accentuating the muscles that stretch and retract as he pants heavily. Nightmare. I feel a chill run down my spine. I get nightmares at least four times a week if I'm lucky. They started off somewhat decipherable, their meanings clear. But as the years have gone by and I begin to question my morality more and more, the dreams have lost meaning. Now, they're just sequences of gore, pain, and suffering. I lay on the dusty queen-sized mattress, in shock, as I realize I am empathising with the cut-throat, boastful prick that I've loathed since I met him. Even more shocking, I find myself sitting up to meet his eye level.

"Nightmare?" I whisper. 

He shudders, "No. I'm fine." And lays back down, leaving me sitting up on the bed gazing into the darkness.

"I get nightmares." Why am I telling him this? 

"They used to make sense. They had a sort of symbolism that could be narrowed down to what was happening in my life. But the longer I've been doing this the more incoherent they've become. Just mindless sequences of tragedy and horror. Sometimes I like to think that I'm strong enough, smart enough to not let this kind of work get to me, but it does." 

Everything is quiet now. His panicked breathing has calmed, and the wind outside has died down.  He doesn't say a word in response to this confession, and I suddenly feel very naked. Fucking prick. I lay back down in silent fury after what feels like ripping out my own brain and handing it to him in hopes of him taking comfort in the fact that I'm just as weak and pathetic as he is, only to be ignored like an idiot. The silent fury immediately lurches into uncomfortable confusion as I feel his warm long arms awkwardly wrap around me in what seems to be an effort to seek comfort. I turn in slight disgust to look at him dead in the eye. 

"Please, just for tonight." He softly begs. Something in his tone makes my leg twitch, not necessarily in a bad way.

I think for a moment, contemplating having to spend the entire night in such an awkward position, the inevitable tension that will rise tomorrow morning. Slowly, gently, I remove his hand from around my ribcage and place it back on his. In the dim light, I can just make out his face burning with embarrassment, and I feel him cringe back into his pillow. I let him fester in his own shame for a few more seconds before wrapping my arms around him. One supporting his neck, the other wrapped around his waist. I rest my right leg on his, and before laying my head on his shoulder I whisper as soothingly as possible into his ear, "I think this is better." I feel the tension in his muscles relax as he melts into me. He's slightly damp; I can tell he was sweating hard during that nightmare. His chest rises and falls with each breath he takes, and I can't help but notice how warm and inviting his body is. He smells good too. Not like deodorant or cologne or laundry, but musky and human. A thought briefly crosses my mind that this is extremely strange and I am supposed to hate this man, but the comforting sound of his heart beating drowns out the thought. I don't fall back asleep. I don't think he does either, but neither of us moves. We just stay like that for the remaining hours of the night, an unspoken gratefulness passing between us. We both needed this.