Fear the Reaper [malexmale]

Chapter One

Chapter One

My eyes flipped open and I found myself staring up at the pale ceiling, sweat tickling my neck, making hair stick to the sides of my face. My heart was pounding hard in my chest, my scream a silent lips open, vocal cords frozen. I couldn't move, couldn't call out, couldn't breath. I was paralyzed, and yet, even with the physical rigidity of fear lancing my body, my mind wasn't at all surprised.

Sleep paralysis was no big surprise to me by now. It had happened almost every night in the past, and while it had faded over the years, it had started up again about a year ago and had yet to leave me the fuck alone.

Thankfully, Alaric was always awake before me and didn't have to witness what probably looked like a stiff corpse in bed. I could hear him downstairs, moving around the kitchen, talking to someone on the phone. I could smell hot cinnamon buns baking in the oven, the sound of the fridge creaking open as Alaric pulled out his carton of chocolate milk, pouring it into one of those tall wavy glasses he bought on sale.

On the nightstand beside me, the analog clock ticked away at the seconds, a droning insanity that pissed me off. I focused on the room around me to bring myself steadily out of the frozen state. The smell of Alaric's shampoo. Of the ashtray next to the bed Alaric used when I wasn't home, little mounds of ash and smashed cigarettes sticking up like towers among the gray and black hills. The leftover smell of Pine Sol from the maid yesterday. The Novaya Zarya cologne I started wearing back in 1980. A warm spicy scent with balsamic undertones.

The matte sage paint on the walls, white baseboards and moulding. Dark wood dresser and armoire, end tables. The small built in closet partially opened. The ugly ass lamp I purposely got from some redneck concert in Alabama with friends. Alaric hated it. I loved driving him nuts.

As I laid there, focusing on the details of the room, on Alaric's voice downstairs, I slowly felt my muscles loosening up. I was finally able to close my mouth with the crack of my jaw. I blinked a few times, then reached up slow with a shaking hand, pushing my sweaty hair back from my face. I sucked in a shuddering breath, then slowly sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed.

Not wanting to be stuck still for a second longer, I got up and started moving, rolling my shoulders as I made my way into the bathroom for a piss, then dressing in a pair of black jeans, a black muscle shirt, and a zipped up my boots. I headed downstairs just as Alaric was taking cinnamon buns out of the oven.

I pulled up short, drawing back to take a good gander at his ass. Absolutely perfect, round and firm and great for groping. Overfilled your palms. And it looked fantastic in a pair of tight dark jeans, gave a cute little peek at a pair of lacy pale blue panties that begged to be untied at the sides and dropped to the floor. I ran my tongue across my bottom lip, slipping into the kitchen as Alaric stood up and set the buns-- cinnamon buns, not his buns-- on the rack on the counter top. He tossed an oven mitt on the counter before dropping his hand on his hip.

"No, I double checked the orders," he said sternly, his back still to me as I crept over to sniff at the cinnamon buns, then turned to watch him scowl, "Are you questioning my ability to run my force? Yeah, I thought so. No, I ordered R12s, not R20s. There's a huge difference. The frequency of the 20s are way too high. Do you want my men to go deaf while trying to protect this realm? I want the R12s and I want my money back from those shitty 20s. Upgrades my ass. Those things are ancient in comparison to the 12s. The 12s reach other realms. The 20s only reach six realms, of which I have no business with. So I'm telling you again. 12s, not 20s. 12s, not 20s. If I don't have my money back and those R12s by the end of this week, I'm not only going to shit all over your half-wit company, I'm going to take my business to your competitors. Yes. I know what that means. I'll call you when I give a shit. End of this week, Ray, or your ass is gonna fry." Alaric hung up, taking a frustrating deep breath.