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Six

The nightmares came more often than not. For a while, Joe thought he was over this. It had been three years since the war ended and while they weren't as harsh as they first had been when he returned home, the vivid memories of no man's land haunted him still.

He wouldn't talk about it, not at first. Not with Ben. The man had been so kind to him, so loving and accepting, Joe felt like he was taking advantage of him. Ben welcomed him into his home, into his life. He didn't want to mess it all up by revealing the darkness that lingered deep inside his mind.

He played it off well enough. When he would wake late into the night, covered in a cold sweat, he would hurry out of bed and off outside. Most nights Ben would carry on sleeping and when he did wake, Joe would make an excuse that he just needed to smoke.

He would crawl back into the bed and wrap his arms around the handsome man he loved so very much, allowing Ben to coax him back to sleep. He rested well when he was in Ben's arms, so that was where he would stay.

He never knew someone so lovely could exist, but he did. Long gone was the boy that was too terrified to even glance another guy's way, and in his place was a man who loved a man endlessly.

Ben had quickly made his home their home, giving Joe the space he needed while also making the estate their own little paradise. He had come to terms with his feelings and his sexuality. His parents didn't exactly understand it, but they didn't judge him either. He was happy and that was all that mattered.

And Joe was happy. Even with the thoughts that haunted him, he was so fucking happy with Ben. And Ben was happy with him. He knew this as Ben told him often. Whether they were just sitting together or they were out and about. Resting in the sand by the water or busying themselves with their work.

Ben was painting still, showing off his latest works at the studio while Joe was publishing his second book. It was a hit, just like the first and Joe couldn't have been more proud. For so long he felt so lost, but he found particular solace in his writing.

He mostly stuck with poetry or fiction, not wanting to dive right into writing anything too real. Ben had suggestions that he writes about his time during the war, but Joe refused. Going back into that would be too painful. Not enough time has passed for him to be comfortable with the things that had happened, with the things he had done.

He partially wondered if that was why he was in so much pain if that was why those thoughts haunted him so. Because he pushed them away and wouldn't talk about it. He knew that was the responsible thing to do, but how could he?

Joe nearly lost himself in every sense of the word because of that war and he wanted nothing more than to push it all aside and move on. He wanted to continue to live the life he was living. He had a gorgeous man by his side who wanted him in every way possible. Joe refused to taint that image by revealing the darkness he held so deep inside.

So he pushed it down, allowing the dreams to get to him and plastering a happy face whenever Ben tried to look too closely. Joe was fairly certain Ben could sense something was off, but he was kind enough not to question it. It hadn't gotten out of control, so there was no reason to worry. That was what Joe told himself.

The nightmares were manageable, so there was no reason to get worried about it. He could handle a few scares, a few sleepless nights.

When his second book was published, Joe had said no to a book tour. He didn't need it. He didn't want it. All he cared about were sales. The only thing he did agree to was going home to celebrate the launch. He hadn't returned since he first left to join Ben in England and he had to admit, it would be nice to see everyone again.