Ethan couldn't breath. There was a heavy pressure in his chest, weighing him down as those coarse, familiar hands locked around his throat, the arc of the hands crushing down upon his windpipe. He fought it or at least he tried to. His lean body was trapped under the weight of the other man as he bore down on him, teeth grinding as he attempted to choke the life right out of Ethan. Ethan's own hands sought out the wrists, his thumbs and forefingers digging into the pressure points as he forced himself to buck underneath the body that was straddling his hips and waist. A gasp escaped his mouth as those clever fingers dug into his skin, clamping down once more on his oxygen supply. The face above him was a mask of unbridled savagery, lips curled up in a snarl. Those piercing blue eyes looking but not seeing as Ethan tried to cry out his name.
Kris couldn't seem to hear him, that was the problem when the other man had the night terrors. He knew what Kris was seeing in those nightmares of his, back in Afghanistan his unit had disappeared for over twenty four hours. It had been the first time that Kris had had to take a life with his bare hands and he had come back a changed man. Night by night it was getting worse until Ethan thought tonight might actually be the night that Kris killed him.
Distantly, over the rush of blood in his ears he could hear his name being called. His mind latched onto it as he fought to breath against the agony in his chest. It kept coming, getting louder and louder until it drowned out every single sensation in his body becoming the only thing he could focus on.
"Ethan!"
He woke up, twisted in the sheets with his heart pounding like a jack hammer against his rib cage. His entire body was drenched in sweat as he sucked in huge lungfuls of air, his vision blurry and unfocused. His chest was hurting, he could feel that tearing ache in the muscle just under his collarbone from where the bullet had pierced his flesh. His right hand went to his throat instinctively, fingertips searching for any tell tale signs of bruising, there was no tenderness that he could feel.
Just a dream, Connor was murmuring in his ear. His soft breath tickled the curve of Ethan's neck as he spoke, his gentle palm rubbing soothing circles over his lover's clothed torso. He had forgotten how vivid those memories could be, how much destruction they could cause.
He was safe, Connor told him.
Safe in bed with the man who loved him, with the man who would never do anything to hurt him. He drew strength from Connor in a way he could not describe. This wasn't the first time he'd had a nightmare and it certainly wouldn't be the last, Connor was always here to smooth over his fractured pieces. Ethan rolled into his side so that was staring into Connor's beautiful blue eyes, he could see a whole world deep inside of them, one that was meant only for him and it gave him the sense of place that he was craving deep down inside. Connor's arm wrapped around his waist, drawing Ethan into the shelter of his loving embrace and cradling him close against his body.
Ethan inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and letting himself absorb the sheer essence of the other man. Connor was his anchor, the only thing that held him steady against the overpowering stream of emotions that coursed through him. Connor's fingertips trailed along the line of Ethan's spine, his thumb ghosting along those tense muscles, stroking and caressing until Ethan began to relax against him, his breathing beginning to even out.
"I'm here." Connor whispered as Ethan drifted back into the land of sleep. "I've got you."
The sunlight was breaking through the slits in the open blinds that Ethan had forgotten to close last night, he awoke feeling exhausted and disorientated. His palm splayed out, reaching for Connor and instead finding himself alone and wanting. He'd spent the duration of the night curled up safely within the shelter of Connor's arms. His sleep had been broken and restless and every time he had awoken, Connor had brushed his lips across his hairline, whispering those loving, sweet words into his ear.
It took him more than a few minutes to rouse himself properly and when he did he was more drained than he had been when he'd gone to bed last night. He inhaled deeply, the scent of coffee flooding his nostrils as he trailed into the kitchen sluggishly. He paused for a moment, lingering in the doorway as he watched Connor amble around his kitchen selecting two brightly colored mugs and placing them alongside the coffeemaker. He liked seeing Connor like this, domesticated living in partnership with him. He wanted Connor to make this apartment his home, for this to be their place not just his.
Connor approached him, his right hand reaching out to caress Ethan's cheek affectionately before he kissed his lover with a tenderness that he reserved only for him. Ethan wrapped his arm around Connor's waist clasping him close and holding him in place as he breathed in his lover's clean scent. Connor's stubble grazed Ethan's cheek lightly causing him to chuckle out loud as it tickled along the line of his jaw.
"How are you feeling this morning?" Connor asked his lover, drawing away to continue his pursuit of coffee.
"Like I've been to hell and back." Ethan answered honestly, accepting the striped mug from Connor gratefully. He wrapped his hands around it, drawing strength from it's heat.
"That's the first time you've woke me up fighting." Connor revealed, leaning against the work surface as he stirred his coffee with a spoon. "Was it the shooting?"
"Older." Ethan said quietly, swallowing hard against the lump that was rising in his throat. He tilted his head away, finding himself unable to look Connor in the eye. There was an ache in his chest, a dismal agony that wretched at him as he forced the next words out of his mouth. "Did I hurt you?"
The very thought of it devastated Ethan, the possibility that he could lash out like that and hurt Connor in such a manner. Those memories of Kris, from the nights where Ethan had woken up to find the other man looming over him to the uninhibited acts of rage, stuck with him and he would never allow Connor to become a victim of that, not the way he had once been.
Connor set down his mug before he approached Ethan once more. He took the coffee cup from his hands before using his fingertips to tilt his lover's chin up so that their eyes met. Those gorgeous, soulful eyes of his were full of fear and anguish.
"No." Connor murmured, their faces inches apart before Connor cupped Ethan's handsome features with his warm, loving hands, his forehead came to rest upon Ethan's. "And I don't think you ever would."
"Connor, if I get like that..." Ethan trailed off, the words seizing in his throat. "If I ever..."
"We'll deal with it." Connor promised him, stroking his lover's cheek knowingly.
"I don't know what I did to deserve you." Ethan said softly, his voice cracking just a little as his hand came to rest upon Connor's, his lips brushing the pulse point on his lover's wrist tenderly.
"You love me." Connor said simply. "And I love you."
