The Sub Club (18+, bxb, mxm)

Sneak Peek #2 Finding Solid Ground

Finding Solid Ground - Sebastien's story

(This is a working title and may change when this story is published. Please note that this story will be posted here on my account, but will not begin until after the ones currently on here/unfinished have been finished. Please be patient.)

Sebastien

I wake up with a start, my eyes scanning the large room. It's dark, but the moon, almost full, is shining through the window making ominous shadows in the corners and behind the furniture.

Silence. Too quiet, making me feel even more alone. The silence seems to echo around the room. Not sure that's even possible, but I feel it.

Looking next to me, at the vast, empty bed I feel a tightness in my chest. The large bed makes me feel even smaller and more alone.

I let out a big sigh and lay back down to try to go back to sleep.

Running through the alley, my eyes dart around looking for a place to hide. The shadows have eyes and they look at me with menace, so I keep running. I'm not safe here.

The heavy footsteps behind me keep pace with my own. There's a fence up ahead, but I've been down here and there's a small hole at the bottom, just enough room for me to fit though. I dive down and crawl through, feeling something grab my foot before I'm all the way through. I hear heavy, guttural breathing behind me as the hand clutching my heel tries to pull me back through. I kick my foot several times until the grip is knocked off and I'm up running again.

Right, then left, down another empty street and through a dark alley. I hate the dark, always have, but sometimes it's also my salvation. At least the footsteps are gone so I can slow down a bit, catch my breath.

"Ahh," I cry out as I trip over something large, but soft. My body crashes down and my hands barely make it down saving my face from hitting the wet damp pavement.

"Hey," a deep voice sneers as hands once again start grabbing at me.

"No...no!" I kick and try to roll away.

I sit up a sense of panic enveloping me. My throat feels like it's constricting as I gasp for air. It's a panic attack, I know. I hadn't had many of these in years. Not since Gregory... and now, since he died, they're coming back again.

I tell myself to slow my breathing down. Just like the doctor told me, I count, one, two, three, four, five. My eyes dart around and the walls and shadows close in on me. I swing a leg over the bed, but stop myself when my toe touches the floor.

I can't do it, I can't do it. Not again, I promised myself I wouldn't do it again...but...he said it was okay. He said he didn't mind. Just because everything changes in the light of day, doesn't mean I can't go to him now, when he's always actually...sweet and safe. When I'm scared in the middle of the night he comforts me and makes me feel okay, even though the rest of the time I wonder if he even knows I'm there.

I jump out of the bed and pad over to the door, opening it quietly I peek out into the long hallway before I slip out. His door is cracked open just a bit, like it's been since the first night it happened. In case I need him.

I walk toward his room, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floor.

He's asleep when I walk in...but he said it was okay. I keep reminding myself, reassuring myself.

I scamper over to the other side of the bed, the inside, where there's space. Is it for me?

Lifting up the covers I carefully crawl in and move close to his side. It's warm.

He's lying on his back with his right arm up under his head and his other strewn casually off to the side. When we make contact, his arm comes down automatically around my neck pulling me in, tucking my head under his chin. He rolls slightly so he's facing me and lets out a sigh.

"Sorry," I whisper. "I had a bad dream."

"S'okay," he mutters. "You're safe here Sebastien. I'm taking care of you now."

He whispers a few more kind words as he rubs his hand in circles over my back, relaxing me so I can go back to sleep.

I slide my arm around his bare torso, until our chests are flush. I take a deep breath through my nose. He always smells so good. Fresh, masculine and a touch of cologne or after-shave. His body is so much bigger than mine, strong and muscular. When I'm like this I feel like no one can hurt me.

No one, except him.

In the morning when I wake up he'll be gone and I'll be alone in his bed. The sheets will still smell like him, but they'll be cold. When I wander into the kitchen, still in just my boxers, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, he'll be showered, dressed and sitting at the counter probably on his second cup of coffee, reading the papers on his tablet.

I'll say good morning and he'll barely spare me a glance and grunt a reply.

I don't get it. How can he be so sweet and caring at night and so distant during the day?

(Lancaster)

Look for Finding Solid Ground on this account next year.

Because I love to find a good cover.... (listen to the song at the top first)