When he yawned and the hand stilled against his head, Trist glanced up. Val’s eyes were drifting shut, lightly closing and lazily opening and it made him grin to see. “Don’t sleep like this, we’re all gunky.”

Val tightened his arms around Trist. “Not moving.”

Trist wiggled a little. “We’re not sleeping like this, hang on.” He had to squirm from Val’s grasp but lucky for them both the other man was too spent to protest much. He hurried across to his bathroom and returned cleaned up and carrying a damp washcloth.

The warm washcloth stroked across Val’s body and it made him moan again. The cloth felt rough to his overloaded skin but the sheer delight of just being pampered overwhelmed him. “Tha’s nice.” He slurred out. All across him, the washcloth dragged and left him feeling tended to and clean but it was when Trist snuggled back against him that felt the best. “Tha’s better.”

Trist let Val pull him close again, felt the tender kiss to the top of his head and smiled. Their legs entwined and Trist pulled a blanket over their nude bodies. Sleep tugged at him now, it seemed so easy to fall into it with silence still inside his head, so easy with that warm hand sliding across his hair.

There was something cold and sharp around his wrists, it was the only thing that broke into Trist’s darkness. There were angry voices around him, male, deep, full of command and authority and he struggled awake to hear them. There were men in suits but their faces wouldn’t swim into focus and as much as he tried to focus on the words, none of it made any sense.

A small part of Trist’s mind knew it was a dream but that didn’t stop him from near panic when the cold touch around his wrist came into focus. Shackles, handcuffs maybe, but shackles, he pulled and screamed against them, cursing in rage at being confined. Bad things happened when he was restrained, people shot him full of drugs and left him helpless and alone. He screamed and pulled but the metal only bit into his flesh and added hot slick blood to the mix.

Someone hit him, hard, and his head snapped to the side. They wanted him to be quiet, wanted him to be good. Trist struggled to obey, knowing he was whimpering now more in fear than pain. There was something he’d been doing, he groped for how he’d wound up shackled being shouted out and hit. He’d been with someone, helping someone with a dead loved one.

Violet.

He’d been with Val. He’d been helping Val and now he was chained up, trapped. Trist struggled to force the dream to make sense, struggled for understanding.

They had Val too.

Val was expendable.

Trist forced his eyes open again, forced them to focus and see. The men around him blurred away but he saw Val, knocked down, bleeding. The man was so angry, it rolled from him in waves. He wanted to shout at Val to stop fighting, to give in but even if the dream Val could hear him, Trist knew he’d never listen.

A gun, cold, black metal, dull and deadly, glinted for a moment and Trist was screaming again. Val snarled, he was shouting, saying something that Trist couldn’t hear. The gun went off, everything slowed down. The shot was like thunder, it exploded in his ears, shattered his eardrums in it’s violence. In the new sluggish order, Trist could almost see the bullet traveling. He saw Val’s eyes go wide and everything went back to normal speed. Trist screamed as the smell of blood floated on the air and Val fell, slumped, dead.

Val was dead, Val was dead because of him. Val was dead. Trist screamed, mindlessly, no longer caring if he dislocated his arms pulling at the shackles. It didn’t matter now if he made a fuss and they killed him to. Val was dead. He’d helped him and now Val was dead.

Shockingly hot hands gripped his shoulders and shook him. Trist was sobbing, screaming, with the taste of Val’s blood in his mouth but hands, alive and warm were shaking him. A voice slid into his mind, Val’s voice, calling his name and the nightmare shattered.

His eyes were open but sight and focus returned. The nightstand lamp was on, he was in his own bedroom. His hair was loose around his shoulders, he was naked and Val was very much alive and shaking him to wake him from then nightmare. Trist sobbed again, shaking, overwhelmed and threw himself against Val.

“Shhh, it’s just a dream.” Val whispered and petted the trembling body he held close to his own. “Just a dream, you’re okay.”

Trist dug his fingers in Val’s shoulder. “No, no, it’s… you… I… oh they…” but the words didn’t come. He couldn’t tell Val his dream, he knew the other man wouldn’t understand. He’d dismiss it as just a dream. Trist drew a long, slow breath.

“That’s it, breath.” Val kissed the head tucked against him. “Wow, that was a doozy, huh?”

“I’m sorry, not used to my nightmares bothering anyone.” He muttered, hating that he’d gone and spoiled the lovely night.

“You were screaming, want to talk about it?”

“No.” It was pretty clear, help Val and he died. It was okay, he could do that, they only had this one night. So long as he kept it to one night, limited contact, he wouldn’t do something stupid like help Val and get him killed. “I’m sorry.” But he was apologizing for not being able to help more then for the nightmare.

“It’s okay. Happens, right?”

“Yeah, fucking too often too.” He sniffed and pulled away from Val long enough to rub hands roughly over his face. “God.”

Val twirled a strand of Trist’s loose hair around his fingers. “You should wear it like this more often, it looks nice loose.”

Trist studied the other face for the joke that had to follow but saw only seriousness. Matt was right, one night wasn’t going to be enough, Trist already wanted more. It was cruel and unfair, stay with Val and get him killed, leave him and he lives. There really wasn’t a choice there.

With no warning, Trist surged forward and claimed a strong kiss. There was something hungry in it and Val fell back onto the bed with the slender man pillowed on top of him. He wouldn’t question it, couldn’t begin to understand how anyone could go from screaming in nightmare fueled terror to kissing him silly within moments. That was assuming he could think straight enough understand anything and Val doubted he could, Trist kissing him seemed to short out his mind.

Only, just when things were starting to look interesting, Trist stopped. He sighed and pressed his forehead against Val’s. “You’re awful, God, Val, you’d really let me take you again? I could, couldn’t I? You make if very difficult to behave but I’m not going to hurt you. You have to be sore, you were like a animal and I wasn’t very gentle.”

Val reached up and brushed the falling curtain of hair back. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“And I’m not going to, we should get some sleep.”

“No.” Val pulled and Trist gave in and kissed him again. “Not sleepy.” He muttered against the lips that so easily tormented him. “Not anymore, but… it’s just… hell.” Val slipped away and clicked the light off.

“Val?” Trist blinked, his eyes always were slow to adjust to quick changes in light. He felt movement along the bed. “Val?”

Strong hands slid up along either side of Trist’s ribs, tracing the lines of his body. “Oh, fuck, Val.” He sighed at the bold touch. He could deal with darkness if it allowed Val to touch him. It felt so good he almost forgot about how disgustingly skinny he’d grown.

“Shh, I…” The hands faltered and the words wouldn’t come. Val knew he’d lose his nerve if he had too many reminders this was real. He needed to pretend it was another dream but a dream he wanted.

In the darkness, Trist nodded and shut up. Or tried to, because the lightest touch of Val’s hands on his body made him need to curse. Those hands traced his torso, crossed his stomach, glided over his hips. Val was mapping him with touch, like a blind man learning a face. The tips of Val’s fingers dragged across his half awake cock and it twitched into life. There was no stopping the moan the light contact caused.

It was okay because Val shut him up with a kiss. It was tentative and shy. Trist parted his lips and did his best to not kiss back because he knew if he did, he’d have Val rolled under him, taking control back. Trist didn’t want to do that, if Val wanted to be bold, he’d try to be still and see where it took them.

The kiss was too brief and when Trist tried to touch Val’s shoulder and encourage him, it made his lover flinch. So, he wasn’t allowed to touch either. The rules were difficult but Trist would play along, anything to keep that shy mouth teasing his neck. There was a rusty, uncertainty to Val’s mouth. It knew what it wanted to do but felt stiff and awkward remembering how.

The darkness soon was filled with their shortened breath. Trist’s broke in muffled sighs and broken words that he barely turned into hissing soft moans. His arms kept rising from the bed to wrap around Val and he had to force them to be still. Instead, he raised them above his head and shook hands with his own wrists. It took Val a moment to understand what Trist had done in the dark but once he did the tense body sliding against his eased and Val’s breath shuddered out in a relaxed sigh.

How long had it been since Trist had such a tender lover? Had he ever? He was normally fairly aggressive, preferring to top and stay in control and his list of past relationships was embarrassingly short. He’d only ever been topped by one other man, a short lived relationship because the fellow had gotten off on Trist being out of control and had provoked him into fits and episodes. Once lost in his own sight and skills, the man would take him, adding to the chaos and confusion Trist was swimming in. It hadn’t been a pleasant relationship.

The others, well they’d been more fuck buddies than lovers and when they’d come together it had been for purely physical release. This, what Val was doing, wasn’t about physical climax. Val was a touch slut, he wanted to be touched, craved it and needed to touch in return. He’d been denying himself too long and now that he’d been given a few guilt few hours, was exploding with the need for physical contact. Even if neither of them came, the touch alone would have been enough.

Trist smiled in the dark. They’d come, if it came to it, he’d make sure. Until then, he’d behave and let Val reach him. It only hurt a little bit to know he’d never have this again. It really was easier to never have such a shy tender contact then to have it and be denied. He told his head to stop thinking about tomorrow and just be happy now.

Which was far easier when Val’s mouth kissed down his chest and his fingers shyly brushed an already hard nipple. He had to bite his lip to keep from talking, he’d always babbled when turned on but Val made him worse it seemed. He did manage to turn his cursing oath of pleasure into a swallowed moan when Val bit him. It was cruel, to so gently touch his nipple right before biting it. Trist wanted him to be cruel again.

Far too soon for Trist’s sake, Val moved on, kissing his chest, his stomach, circling his navel. One of Val’s hands slid along his thigh and Trist’s mind stopped, in the silence, for again everything was silent, his breath hitched in his throat. It was a tickling touch, tormenting with the promise of rougher, more demanding contact that Val didn’t seem ready to give. It took Val tugging a little on the thigh he was tickling across for his meaning to sink in but when it did, Trist slid his legs apart. His hips arched up in the darkness but there was nothing there for his needing length to find contact with.

He really didn’t know what to expect and he was ready to accept anything. Val didn’t seem like the sort to want to top but if he did, Trist wouldn’t complain. But, being logically ready for anything didn’t prepare him for the touch of a hot, wet, tongue against his hip. It crept in kisses and nips over and before Trist could really understand, Val found his target.

“Oh!” Trist bucked up from the bed and Val’s hands held him in place. “Oh, fuck yes!” He bite his tongue to stop the words but they didn’t seem to scare Val away.

The tiny hint at Val’s skills at fellatio were nothing compared to the real thing. Like all the other contact, Val seemed uneasy, out of practice but as he eased into it, the contact just became better. Val’s tongue swirled and teased and bit by bit he bobbed more of the length into his mouth. Once, he went too far and chocked, having to stop for a moment to cough.

“Sorry.” He whispered softly.

Trist felt the embarrassment. He let one hand slid down to ruffle across Val’s head. “Don’t be.” He whispered out but logical words fled because Val returned to his efforts, even more set on doing it right.

Trist had to pull his hand back above his head or else he was afraid he’d be forcing Val to finish, which was a line he didn’t think Val was ready to cross. As the mouth teased him closer, Trist writhed and fought with himself to stay silent.

Val moaned.

“Oh fuck!” Trist cursed as the throaty sound poured into his body.

Val whimpered.

Trist nearly came. He felt it then the slight rocking of the bed and that only one of Val’s hands was holding onto him now. Val was between his legs, sucking him like a treasured candy, jerking himself off. Trist would have done almost anything to have the light on, he wanted to see Val pleasuring himself. One day he would, he promised himself, forgetting for the moment that there would never be a one day.

“Val, stop… I can’t… oh fuck… I’m going…” Trist stuttered out, trying to whisper, trying to be as silent as he could but it sounded awfully loud to his ears.

Val didn’t stop. His mouth never pulled away. To answer, he sucked harder, drew the trembling flesh tighter into his mouth and silently told Trist to come. Which he struggled not to but with another long moan from Val, did. His whole body trembled, shuddered, pleasure pouring from him, stealing his breath. It was something he wished he could have seen, Val swallowing his release, the look on Val’s face as he found his own release with Trist’s come in his mouth. The thought was almost hot enough to make him hard again.

They lay in the darkness, panting, breath slowing, Val’s head pillowed on one of Trist’s widely spread legs. One of his hands curled loosely over Trist’s hip and from the spot or two cooling moisture that dripped onto him, Trist could guess which hand. He was grateful Val wasn’t the sort to just wipe himself off onto the sheets, that always grossed him out.

“Thank you.” Val finally sighed into the darkness.

“God damn, Val!” Trist chuckled, his laughter rattling where Val lay against him. “I’m the one saying thanks. Man, I should have nightmares more often.” Only that reminded him what the dream had shown him and stabbed him with the pain of having to go back to casual friends.

Val nuzzled the thigh he was resting on before sliding away and off the bed. “Bathroom.” He explained before finding his way by memory to the bathroom, still unwilling to turn on a light.

With Val out of sight, Trist swiped the spots of come from his hip and sucked the taste of Val from his fingers. Life was an unfair and horrible bitch and he was apparently her whipping boy. There was no blissful ignorance, not for him, not ever. As Trist swirled his tongue lazily around his own fingers and watched the shadow of Val move around inside his now lighted bathroom he knew he’d rather never speak to Val again then see the man harmed.

“Fuck, I hate my life.” He muttered, pulling his fingers out of his mouth and loosing the glow from such a delightful blow job. Even when Val returned and spooned tight and naked against him, yawning like an innocent child in his ear, he couldn’t shake the melancholy.