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Forty Winks

Mitch
I lay in bed that night, just staring at the dark ceiling, listening to Scott stirring in the other room. I chuckled. He always insists he doesn't move, the idiot. But he somehow has cocooned himself in blankets every morning. I closed my eyes again and tried to force myself to sleep, to no prevail.
I finally just sighed and sat up, getting out the covers and sitting on the edge. My mind was a rather frenetic place at the moment, thoughts clouded in my brain made it too foggy for any chance of shut eye coming through.
I made my way to the kitchen and quietly made some tea, hoping it would make me drowsy. I leaned on the counter and put my head in my hands as the kettle hissed softly. My hands played with the ceramic mug I had grabbed, the one Scott made for me last Valentine's Day. It was decorated with a large poop emoji, with a crown sitting on top. I remember laughing with Scott about it, is sharing an inside joke over it that no one would understand.
That damn Scott let out a horrendous noise from inside his room, shaking me from my thoughts. I got quiet and listened intently, and another whale-call followed. I pushed my chair back and made a beeline for his closed door, my mind racing. Is he being killed? Is there someone in there? What if I walk in on him in the middle of diddlying the do with someone...
Scott snatched the door open right as I put my hand on the knob, running out and right into me. We both stumble out the door, landing with a resounding crash onto the floor.
I look at Scott lying on top of me, his cheeks flushing a beautiful scarlet, and I know mine are probably following suit. "I'm sorry, so sorry, I was just, I didn't know-" He cuts off to scramble off of me and sits against the wall, pulling his long legs to his chest as if trying to hide himself from the awkward encounter. I sat up and chuckled. "You know, if you wanted to get on top of me, you could've just asked."
Scott grinned despite himself, and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know though, I think I'd rather bottom. You'd make a pretty feisty top."
We both laughed and the tension slipped away. The blonde glanced back up at me and then back down at his fingers, folding them then opening then folding them back again. "You're probably wondering why I was yelling, huh?"
"Yeah, that would be nice to know. You scared the daylights out of me Scratch, but then I thought maybe you were in there getting laid or something." He laughed and shoved me playfully.
"No you perv, that's not it at all. You know I wouldn't bring in a boy toy with you being here, that's gross."
"Then why were you screaming bloody murder then? Were you having a nightmare?" I looked at Scott, and the light smile on my face faded as I watch his eyes rim with tears. "Scott, are you okay?"
He rubbed at his eyes and sniffed. "I, yeah, I just... Gah, I'm sorry. I was hoping I'd never have to have this conversation. I'm so sorry."
"No, hey, look at me. Stop apologizing. Whatever it is, it's okay. Should I be worried? Are you sick?"
Scott focused his attention back to his fidgeting fingers. "I, well, I guess you can only say this bluntly. Mitch, I've uh, had insomnia since I was twelve years old. So yeah, sometimes that happens and I can't get to sleep."
I stared at Scooter, processing his words. My mouth opened and closed, but nothing was coming out. I cleared my throat. "So... A sleeping disorder. Gosh. How come I never noticed?"
His attention to his fingers was unwavering. "I'd always has medication to keep it under control. But I tried to ween myself off of it, I was tired of having to depend on it. Then, well, I kinda just made it worse. And now I have all these vivid nightmares, and then I'll just sit there. All night. I don't know what's wrong with me." Scott's voice cracked and he took a few shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down. "I just, God Mitch, I never wanted you to be involved. I'm so sorry I woke you up."
The confusion was more than likely etched on my face. "You didn't wake me, love, I was kinda already up. But not be involved? Well this is serious, Scratch, why wouldn't you want me to get involved? It's nothing to be ashamed of. You need help, that's all." Scott still wasn't looking at me. I leaned over and gently grabbed his chin, pulling his tear-streaked face upwards. "Hey. That's better. Look, it's okay Scott, it really is. We can figure something out, maybe go to one of those doctors where they watch you sleep and shit? Have you tried that?"
He shook his head. "I just, I didn't want anyone to think there is something wrong with me-"
"There's nothing WRONG, babe. People everywhere have this problem, you're not the only one. How 'bout this. Tomorrow morning, you and I are gonna sit down and research whatever this is. Maybe we'll find something, or someone, to help you. Don't just let yourself suffer, do something about it. I'm here for you."
The blonde cracked a half smile. "You sound like a fucking therapist."
"Well if I'm the therapist, I have got one mighty sexy patient." I leaned back and pulled myself to my feet. "Come on Scrap, let's go to bed. Will you be able to get back to sleep?"
Scott sighed. "I think so. " He stood up. "Mitch?"
"Yeah?" I turned around and saw him nervously playing with his fingers again. "Will you sleep with me? Just for tonight?" His face snapped up and he looked horrified. "Oh wait, not, I mean, just sleeping, not sleeping with me with me, but with me, not-"
"It's okay Scott, I get it. Lead the way," I laughed. Scott rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, then quickly retreated to his room. I sighed and went in behind him.