That Is, Of Course, I Love You (Boreo The Goldfinch Oneshots)

A Nightmare

Third person POV // might be a short one- effectively a warm up for a longer installment

Both boys were both sleeping quietly in Theo's bed. Boris slept on his side, facing Theo (who slept on his back) with his head resting on Theo's shoulder and arm around his waist. For the first part of the night, they dreamt unpretentious  if perhaps symbolic dreams. Boris rarely dreamt of anything out of societal norms (y'know, easily dissectible ones about falling, being chased, showing up naked to public events...), and Theo rarely dreamed (though if he did it was a PTSD induced nightmare).

So in the second part of the night, Theo began to see himself in the museum, cold white lights shining too brightly on his eyes, on his mother's body lying cold on the glittery hard marble floor, the light shining too brightly also on her blood. This was a reoccurring dream, though every time there was some variation in his mom's expression or the exact room or people or even the time of day. 

When he had that dream, Theo usually awoke, heart pounding and a nauseating deja vu, even though he never actually saw his mother's body in real life. Sometimes he kept quiet, feeling guilty if he ever awoke Boris by accident, but other times he was in such a state of distress that he felt as though he'd pass out if he let himself wallow in his anxiety anymore. This scenario was more common, and tonight was no exception. 

Theo attempted to squirm out of Boris's embrace if only to get a better look at his sleeping face before waking him up. Timidly he removed Boris's arm from his waist and instead just gently took his warm hand in his own. Awake Boris was usually intimidating, or at least he looked that way. But sleeping Boris, while similar, had all of that bravado and sometimes arrogance stripped away- leaving the face Theo had fallen in love with. He wanted to save this moment forever, an island of peace in an ocean of anguish, when Boris abruptly awoke.

"Staring at me, Potter?" he mumbled clumsily, his accent more apparent in his sleepiness. Theo smiled, not minding he'd been caught since he'd seen Boris do the same thing many times before. 

"Just... admiring you," Theo admitted, squeezing his hand. Boris, only now seeming to notice how they were connected there, smiled.

"Why're you awake anyways?" Boris asked, closing his eyes and almost slipping back under. Theo shifted closer, to reawaken Boris and also just to be closer to him. 

"I could ask you the same thing. But I, um, had another nightmare." This woke Boris up more than Theo moving around.

"Potter, am so sorry," he yawned, still somehow seeming sincere. Maybe it was the way after he yawned that he looked into Theo's eyes and traced his freckles gently. 

"It's okay," Theo sighed. 

"Is not," Boris concluded. "Come here." Boris pulled the other boy into his arms, both enjoying the feel and warmth of the other. Theo in that moment was so at peace. Boris felt similar. Both, though, could also feel a sense of forbidden longing, for more than hugs and friendship. Maybe it was that, combined with the fact that his nightmare still lingered, a heavy and dark presence in the room, at the same time rattling lightly around his mind, but Theo started to cry. Not loudly, no sobs, but he became overwhelmed with emotions, both happy and sad. 

Boris pulled away, saw Theo's crying face and said nothing more. They looked quizzically at each other for a moment before, as if by unspoken agreement, pulled each other closer, closer, closer until their lips touched. For both boys, there was a sense of exhilaration, and of belonging; though also a touch of shame, or anxiety that the other might not want to. But both remembered that agreement, a look passed between their tired eyes, and they mutually decided to enjoy the kiss. 

Theo's lips to Boris were the softest he'd ever kissed (and that's saying a lot...), and though Theo had never kissed anyone else, he thought he'd never need to after kissing Boris. Both boys were still lying on their sides, and while that wasn't the most comfortable position, they made no attempts to readjust. Theo's hands tangled softly in Boris's hair, Boris's hands cradled Theo's face. All traces of the nightmare, of anything else really, were temporarily lost, but then again nothing would ever be experienced the same way again. 

Both pulled away when breath was needed. Neither said a word. They'd held hands, cuddled, wrestled, but never, ever had they kissed. It wasn't that big a step forward, yet everything would be changed forever. 

"Better, Potter?" Boris asked after a few almost awkward moments. "Did that help?"

Theo grinned. "Um. Yeah?" 

"Good," Boris stated. 

Leaning forward, Boris touched his lips to Theo's once again.