The Fire Within

6 | The One With Unnecessary Amounts of Tension

— R A E —

I jerk awake as I feel Ajax reach over me. "Mmm, what time is it? I must've passed out."

"About midnight, you were out for a while, and snoring to high heavens. You should have heard yourself, mouth wide open like-"

"Nuh-uh! I didn't snore did I?"

He just laughs as he uses the remote to turn off the tv.

"I guess you'll never know," he says, still smiling in the faint moonlight. "I'm not really tired yet, I have a hard time falling asleep sometimes, so I thought turning off the tv might help. You were out, I figured you wouldn't mind. I'm sorry if I woke you."

"Oh, it's fine. I'll be out again quick enough... Is it because of me you can't sleep? I know it's probably weird having someone here." I cringe thinking it may be my fault.

"No, not you're fault at all! I really don't mind you being here, it's kind of a nice change of pace actually... I have issues falling asleep pretty regularly. My mind and body just have a hard time turning off and calming down. No biggie. You can go back to sleep, I'll be fine."

"Hmm, alright," I respond, as I close my eyes again. A thought strikes me and I blink my eyes open once more. I used to have trouble falling asleep when I was young and my dad would sit in bed with me and rub my back until I could fall asleep.

"Ajax?" I whisper, turning onto my back.

"Yeah?"

"Do you like having your back scratched? I always found it relaxing when I couldn't sleep as a kid."

"Sure, who doesn't?" He whispers back, turning to lay on his stomach.

I take that as a go ahead, and place my hand on his back, starting in slow circles. His shirt crinkles up beneath my fingers and I keep having to stop and start again.

I think he notices my struggle because he suddenly sits up and tugs his shirt off over his head. "Damn shirt," he mumbles. "I can barely feel a thing through it. And I hate sleeping in shirts anyway, I get too hot. I was trying to be polite with you here, but it's not like you haven't already seen me shirtless, and it doesn't seem like you much care."

I notice him glance down at my chest and I flush with embarrassment, but I just shrug. "Doesn't matter to me."

But it does matter. Because now the moonlight shines faintly on every curve of his torso as he lays back down on his stomach. And now my fingers are grazing his bare skin as I lazily scratch his back.

And because now I can feel all of his soft lines and hard muscle under my fingertips. Slow circles along the long planes of skin, gently brushing down his spine, down, down, as far as I dare to go. Then back up, up, to his shoulder blades, to the nape of his neck. Feeling, exploring.

He takes a deep breath in and out, releasing a deep sigh that strikes me as being more of a purr while his back arches to push into my fingers.

His head is laying on his arms, face towards me with his eyes closed in contentment. He has a few stand-alone freckles on his neck, cheek, and forehead, and a small scar near his right eyebrow. Heavy, expressive brows and dark lashes frame his eyes. I follow down the bent line of his nose to his lips, slightly parted. He looks so peaceful.

"Thank you for tonight," I whisper quietly.

I'm met with a long moment of silence until I begin to think he might not have heard me.

His eyebrows furrow before he slowly opens his eyes, looking right at me. I raise my eyes from his lips to meet his gaze.

"For...what, exactly?" He asks.