(Fic) FN - Easy
Title: Easy
Summary: Peter is used to nightmares, but that doesn’t stop Charley from being concerned.
Word Count: 670
Rating: PG-13 for language and implied sexual content
Disclaimer: Fright Night and all characters therein © Tom Holland/Craig Gillespie
Author’s Note: Written for the Three Days Only Challenge at 5_prompts, using Table 61, prompt 02: Waking from tormented sleep.
Aaaand here we go! Five fics in three days…except more like a day and a half since I didn’t see the challenge at first. I feel even more accomplished now!
Charley woke to a dull ache in his side. It felt like he had been punched in the gut, and he curled around the injury protectively, letting out a groan. It took him a moment to register that he wasn’t the only one making miserable sounds.
Bleary from being woken in the middle of the night, he groped around for the light on his side of the bed. He finally managed to find the switch and flicked on the lamp, blinking when the soft light nearly blinded him. He still felt a little dizzy from sleep, and he scrubbed at his gritty eyes with his wrist before turning to his bedfellow.
Peter lay twisted in the sheets next to him, thin chest heaving and positively drenched in sweat. As Charley’s eyes slowly regained focus and adjusted to the sudden glare of the lamp, he could see the tightness in Peter’s clenched jaw, the frantic bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed and muttered in his sleep. Violent shudders racked his bony frame, his arms and legs making spastic twitches every now and then. Charley realized that his lover must have accidentally punched him while fighting off whatever monsters he was so tormented by in his sleep.
“Peter,” Charley slurred out, putting a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Peter, wake up. You’re dreaming, man, it’s okay.”
With a strangled cry, Peter’s eyes flew open and he jerked on the bed before falling still. He stared sightless up at the ceiling for a long moment, breathing long and hard.
Charley stroked a gentle thumb over his collarbone. “Peter?”
The magician blinked a few times and turned, large doe eyes landing on Charley’s sleepy face. “…Charley?” he finally rasped out, his voice shaky. “Fuck.”
“Yeah. You… okay? That looked like a bad nightmare.” Charley asked. He scooted a little closer to Peter, and the magician didn’t hesitate to pull Charley close against his chest. Peter felt cold and clammy from sweat, but Charley could also feel his lover’s heart hammering away in his chest, so he wasn’t about to complain. They could shower off together in the morning… which would probably lead to even nicer activities anyways. He snuggled in closer. “You want to talk about it?” he asked, his breath teasing against Peter’s collarbone and making the magician twitch a little.
He felt Peter shaking his head over him, and hugged him tighter. “I’m okay, Charley.” Peter said. Charley closed his eyes, smiling a little. He liked listening to Peter talk when they were positioned like this; he could feel the magician’s voice rumbling through his chest. It made him sound like a lion almost, Charley mused, mind still foggy with sleep. Peter’s next words however, woke him up a little more. “I’m used to nightmares, so it’s no big deal.”
Charley frowned and pushed himself up, leaning over Peter. “You don’t have to play tough, okay? You can talk to me about it.”
Peter smiled up at him with affection. “No, honestly, Charley. It’s just the same nightmare I’ve always had… it’s… it was… him. You know. But really, once I’m awake, I’m usually fine.”
“Just usually, though,” Charley said, searching Peter’s face. “Not always.”
“Tonight, I’m fine.” Peter pulled Charley back down on top of him. “It bothers me less now. He’s dead, Charley. He’s just a memory now. I’m okay.”
Charley groaned. “Dammit, I’m supposed to be comforting you.”
Peter chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest in an even deeper rumble than his voice. His arms around Charley’s shoulders tightened. “You being here is comfort enough, don’t worry. Go back to sleep.”
Charley smiled, nestling in closer to Peter’s chest. His lover felt warm and solid beneath him now, his breathing steady and calm once more, and Charley could already feel himself starting to drift. He didn’t notice when Peter stroked back his dark curls and pressed a kiss against his forehead. “It‘s always easiest when you’re here, Charley,” he murmured, slipping back into sleep himself.