[ boyxboy ]
Lennon Lewis doesn't feel quite alright. He is slowly but surely reaching for the stars with his rock band and is adored by everyone who meets him. He should be happy. But he's either too high or too low. The sweet relief is only tempora...
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He trashes into half-wakefulness, he is clawing at his forearms. A nightmare. The nightmare, more specifically - the one he was familiar with since he started sleeping in Lennon's bed. William can feel Lennon's heart pounding hard, and he tries to calm his breathing as the aftershocks quiver through him. Lennon moves to sit on the edge of the bed, pushes his sweat-soaked hair from his forehead, as he realizes he's in his room, his home, not in that place from the dream. He tries to stand up, he is still weak from long days in hospital bed and staggers, hissing as the pain in his shoulder and back probably reminds him that he is not strong enough to do the simple task.
William moves across the bed, sheets tangled, and gently guides him down, so that he can sit back down on the bed and sneaks his arms around his middle. Lennon pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes, he exhales hard and in the stillness of the dark room, it is as if William can hear the gears turning in his head. Something big is looming on the horizon, something bad and William never asks what is the cause of the nightmare. Only thing he does is try to bring him back to reality, Lennon usually focuses after hearing his voice, or feeling his touch.
"Breath with me, Len."
He takes his hand that is gripping the sheet and places it over his heart. William inhales deeply and then exhales, he flattens his hand over Lennon's, pinning it to his chest, making Lennon expand his chest at the same time as William. Inhale. His chest expands. Exhale. It focuses his attention on breathing and murmured words of encouragement rather than those unwanted thoughts.
"Better?"
"Oh y-yeah. Yes." William brushes his knuckles over his cheek, and Lennon turns his head and kisses his fingers. "My shoulder... it hurts."
"Is that why you keep having these panic attacks? Because of the accident?"
"No." His body tenses and he shakes his head, his long hair tickles William's nose. "It's just a dream William, it's not a panic attack. I'm fine."
"You know you can talk to me."
"I don't know if I... Just..."
"I'm not going to push. And I don't mean tonight. I... I just want to help you."
"You're already helping me. You're so... good at this. You have no idea."
"Hey," William says, and then he brushes his fingers across his forehead and scratches his nails over his scalp. Lennon shivers under his touch, torn between pulling away and leaning into it, like a skittish animal. "Let's go back to sleep, yeah?" He murmurs into his skin, sleep pulling him under again.
Lennon trusted William to talk him through his nightmare scares, he'd leaned against him, breathed with him. He'd let him in his home, in his bed, even though the accident was William's fault, indirectly at least. Whatever wretched thing happened to Lennon, it should come from him, he doesn't have time to analyse that now because right now Lennon still needs him.
