Spilling Guts

Part 40 - Night Terrors

A soft voice crooned in Will's ear as a warm body pressed against his back. It had been a long while since Will had been the little spoon.

"C'mon sleepy head."

"'s it morning?" mumbled Will. He had to get up for something important. Something special he had to do today.

A hand patted at Will's t-shirt clad chest and then sauntered with fingertips to his stomach. The voice shaped from a smile full of mischief and heat. "It's morning somewhere."

Will rolled back slightly against the body with a smirk. He remembered now. Jacob. On the rare days their sleep schedules matched, they would wake up with limbs entwined and greet the morning with still sleepy bodies, a moment of fumbling pleasure banishing the night. He had missed this. He had wanted this.

"I need to be up early," said Will, still squinting against the gray dawn through his window His alarm clock ticked away to his side. Maybe a quick fumble in the sheets, for one of them at least.

"I know."

But the hand at Will's middle did not drift lower or creep back up to Will's jaw to turn his head for a kiss. Will couldn't take teasing that morning. He reached his hand back, searching for a face to bring over his shoulder and devour with his lips.

Instead of short cropped natural hair, his fingers ran though fine hair slicked in a side part. Not Jacob.

Who?

He looked down at the arm across his body. It wasn't black. Pale skin and well manicured fingernails at the end of a suit sleeve. A familiar hand that had pointed a gun at him and fired.

Will spun around, the sheets twisting tight as he faced Martin Zachs in his bed. He jerked back, wanting to kick away from the man and the hand on his stomach, but the sheets, once warm and inviting, pinned down his limbs like tentacles from a sarlacc.

"You never answered my question." Zachs smiled, a soft thing compared to the diamond hard disappointment in his eyes. His fingertips swirled a figure-eight on Will's shirt. "Is it better than sex?"

And then the hand plunged inside.

-

Will gasped awake, a chill lingering on his skin like a mist. He gulped and looked down, the sheets kicked off in his sleep, leaving him in shorts and a t-shirt. The Yoda clock read six in the morning, and his mind was a blank.

That's... better. I suppose. More than five hours. However Will felt like he had just run a marathon in full Storm Trooper armor rather than slept. Could he take another hour to rest? He looked around his bedroom, and the suit hanging in front of his closet.

He was to meet Jacob today.

Jacob. Did I dream of him? I think I might have dreamt of being held...

The thought was comforting, but hollow.

Right. Stuff to do today. Get up. Defy gravity and get vertical.

Will sat on the edge of the bed, breathing through a headache that crept down to the base of his neck.

Painkillers, a hot shower, and stretching, thought Will. He glanced towards the kitchen and the variety of tea organized in the cupboard just the other day. And the bulging bag of Styrofoam coffee cups. If he delayed dropping that bag off, who knew when he'd get to it. You're driving yourself to work today, too many errands to run.

Will left the bed, but the ghosts of the nightmares remained as cold faceless flutters in his gut.