Snippets [boyxboy and girlxgirl shorts]

Safety

Rated: S for SELF INDULGENT!!!!

Pairing: two guys

Based off of: i was lonely as FUCK

Other notes: you would not believe how sad i was the night i wrote this hot damn!!!

~~~~~~~~~~

 My eyes fluttered open. I had been awoken by the shift of pressure in the bed. Bed? I had to take a moment to orient myself, to remember where I was.

I was in Damian's bed. I had a bad episode, and I called him to come get me. He found me shaking in the bathroom of a Barnes & Noble. He gave me his hoodie, because he knew I didn't want anyone to look at me, and he guided me out of the store. He took me back to his car, and we drove back to his apartment. Step by step, we made our way to the stairs. I didn't want to take the elevator. I didn't know why, I just couldn't do it that day, and Damian respected it. It probably took us 10 minutes to get up the four flights of stairs. Damian had unlocked the door, led me inside, and helped me into his bed. I had fallen asleep at some point, apparently.

I was still wearing the hoodie. I didn't remember taking the rest of my clothes off, but my shoes and socks were lying by the bed, and there I was, in only the hoodie and some boxers. The hoodie smelled like Damian. Everything smelled like Damian. And the sheets reminded me of home.

I didn't know whether to be happy or concerned that I was beginning to associate Damian with home. In all honesty, he was starting to feel more like a home than any other place I'd ever been. Certainly more homely than my upbringing.

We had been together for almost three years. Maybe it was natural that I was so attached to him. But I was terrified that I was depending on him too much. That I was setting myself up for awful heartbreak.

Before this goes any further, I'll tell you all that my fears were baseless. I still love him with all my heart, and he still loves me.

I felt the silky sheets beneath my fingers, and absorbed the softness of Damian's mattress. He loved a mattress you could sink into, and so did I.

My attention finally turned to what had caused the dip in the mattress: Damian. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at me. His gaze was loving first and foremost, but bordering on concerned. "Mind if I lay with you?" He whispered.

Instead of responding, I rubbed a circle in the bed, inviting him to rest beside me. He slowly sunk into the space I'd made for him. He raised his hand to touch my head, waited for me to give him a quick nod of approval, and then he began to run his hands through my hair in the tenderest way you can imagine.

He was being extra careful to ask before doing even the smallest thing. He knew that I was like that after an episode: jittery, uncomfortable, touch repulsed occasionally. He was so gentle; better to me than anyone I'd ever been with by a wide margin.

"Would you like to talk about it?" He whispered. I was glad for the whispering. The room had a very quiet atmosphere. A calming one. It felt like he was making an effort to keep the peaceful moment, and I was grateful.

At the beginning, when I first told him about the less pretty parts of me, I had always refused to talk to him about what caused my episodes. But now, talking to him about it felt as easy as breathing. The words flowed out of me smoothly. "I was looking for a psychology book... it was something my professor recommended, since he saw me getting so invested in our serial killer lesson... but while I was in the psychology section, looking for this book, I saw this book about detecting signs of child abuse. I don't know. The cover was this little girl who was... broken, like, shattered as if she was made of glass. But on her face there was a mask like she wasn't broken, a mask that made her look like every other little kid. I don't know, everything's a little mixed up right now, but I think that's what it was. Usually that wouldn't even set me off. I guess I was on edge to begin with."

He continued to stroke my head. "Why were you on edge?"

"There was this woman yelling at her kids at the restaurant where I ate lunch. I tried to ignore it, I put in headphones and stuff, but it kind of stuck with me, and it made me feel on edge."

It was quiet for another moment. I was breathing, he was thinking, and the only sound was the faint ticking of his clock. I loved that clock. On nights where I couldn't sleep, sometimes I would ask him to come over. If being with him wasn't enough to help me rest, I could focus on the ticks of that clock. Just counting them, 1,2,3,4,5, until I finally drifted off.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

I sighed. Not angrily, not happily, just a median thinking noise. "I guess... I would like a glass of water."

"Do you want me to get it now?"

"No... stay here a little longer." I paused for a moment. "Actually, get it now and then come back and stay for a while. Unless you're busy. If you're busy then just the water is fine."

He finally stopped the hair stroking, opting to rest his hand on my shoulder. "I finished up work about half an hour ago. I went by your place to get your meds, just in case..."

I nodded. "Just in case."

"...And then I came right back here to check on you. So I'm not busy anymore, no."

I blinked. "Okay."

"Alright."

There was another quiet moment. We breathed in sync. I could tell he didn't want to get up.

"Maybe... I can get water later." I said. "Maybe for now, we can just lay here."

"I like that idea."

So we did. He was the one to break the silence. "May I get closer to you?"

"Are you asking if we can cuddle?"

He hesitated. "...Yes. But only if you want to."

"I want to."

He exhaled a sigh of relief that I don't think he was even aware he was holding in. Seamlessly, easily, he scooted closer to me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me to his side. We fit together perfectly like that. Like... Well, like spoons. After wrapping his arm around me, he found my hand and took it in his. He rubbed my thumb with his, and I started to drift off again.

"What time is it?" I mumbled suddenly. I had meant to ask a long time ago, but I had gotten a bit distracted.

He just nestled further into my hair. "Probably around 8:00. I came in here at 7:40."

"PM?"

I could sense his smile, and hear his slight giggle. "Yes, PM. You didn't nap for that long, Nikhil."

We settled back into our comfortable silence. Warm, content, comforted. The opposite of anything I had been in that Barnes & Noble bathroom. I was embarrassed just thinking about what a mess I had been. Over the phone I must've sounded like I was being strangled. But no, I was just crying over a book cover.

I shook those thoughts from my mind. My therapist and Damian and anyone whose opinion was worth anything to me had told me countless times that I wasn't embarrassing and it wasn't my fault. I shouldn't dwell.

Instead, I should focus on the present. The present of the warmth and safety I felt when Damian held me. I wanted to turn around and kiss him, but I was utterly exhausted. The clock continued to tick steadfastly. After a while, I began to hear the slight alteration in breathing that signalled that Damian had fallen asleep.

The sound of the clock faded into obscurity. Damian's pseudo-snoring led me to dreamland. In those moments before I drifted off, I remember thinking about how lucky I was.