honey in your teeth

He rounded the corner into the living room.

Bob was exactly where he'd expected him to be.

Curled into one corner of the couch beneath a throw blanket despite the warm spring evening, one arm draped over the armrest, the television casting shifting colors across his face.

Only...

He wasn't watching it.

His eyes were fixed somewhere beyond the screen, unfocused enough that Todd wasn't even sure he'd noticed what was playing.

Todd slowed.

Normally, Bob heard him coming before he even entered the room. His whole face would brighten, almost involuntarily, and Todd would get that shy little smile reserved just for him. But, tonight… Nothing happened.

A second passed before Bob finally blinked. His attention slowly drifted toward Todd, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"...Hey."

Todd smiled back automatically.

"Hey."

Todd crossed the room and let himself fall onto the couch beside him with enough force to make the cushions bounce.

Usually Bob would laugh and complain that Todd was trying to launch him onto the floor. Tonight, he only shifted with the movement.

Todd frowned, just a little. He turned sideways, resting one arm along the back of the couch.

"...Everything okay?"

Bob answered almost before the question finished.

"Mhm."

Too fast. Too practiced.

Todd had been dating Bob long enough to recognize the difference between I'm okay and I don't know how to talk about it yet.

This was the second one.

He considered pushing. Just for a second. Then he didn't. One thing he'd learned about Bob was that forcing words out of him never helped. If Bob knew what was wrong, he'd explain it eventually. If he didn't… Questions only made him feel guilty for not having answers.

So Todd simply nodded.

"Okay."

Neither of them spoke for another minute.

The television continued talking to itself.

Eventually, Todd stretched his arms over his head until his shoulders popped.

"You hungry?"

Bob gave the smallest shrug.

"I could eat."

Todd grinned.

"I choose to interpret that as overwhelming enthusiasm."

That earned him exactly what he'd been hoping for: A tiny snort. Barely audible.

"There he is," Todd muttered to himself.

Bob's smile lingered for a second before fading again. Todd pretended not to notice. Instead he reached for his phone.

"What're we thinking? Pizza? Chinese? Burgers?"

"I don't really care."

"Excellent."

Todd tapped confidently at his screen.

"That means I get to make all the important decisions."

—

Twenty-five minutes later, takeout containers covered the coffee table.

Todd talked enough for both of them.

Something ridiculous had happened in one of his afternoon classes involving a professor, a broken projector, and someone who had somehow managed to spill an entire iced coffee without ever standing up.

Todd acted out half the story.

Bob smiled in the right places. Laughed once. A real laugh. It disappeared almost as quickly as it came.

Todd caught it anyway. His stomach tightened.

Bob was trying. That was somehow worse.

He wasn't withdrawn. He wasn't upset with Todd. He was making an effort to seem normal.

Todd knew that look. So he kept talking. He let the conversation stay light. 

No questions. No concern disguised as jokes.

Just... company. Sometimes that was enough. Sometimes it wasn't.

Tonight he honestly couldn't tell.

—

By the time they finished cleaning up and headed upstairs, the house had settled even further into the night.

The bathroom light was painfully bright after the dim living room.

Todd squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush while Bob stood beside him doing the same. For a few minutes, the only sounds were running water and the quiet scrape of toothbrushes.

Todd glanced toward the mirror.

Bob looked...

Tired.

Not the kind of tired that came from staying up too late. Something deeper.

His shoulders drooped. His eyes seemed fixed on his own reflection without really seeing it. Like part of him was somewhere else entirely.

Todd rinsed his toothbrush. Without thinking, he nudged Bob's shoulder with his own. Just enough to bump him gently.

Bob looked over. Todd offered a small smile.

"You sure you're alright?"

For the briefest moment, something flickered across Bob's face.

Guilt. Then it disappeared behind another soft smile.

"Just had a rough day."

Todd studied him for another second.

He wanted to ask what happened. Who upset him. If there was anything he could do.

Instead...

He simply nodded.

"...Okay."

No pressure. No interrogation. Just acceptance.

If Bob wanted to tell him later...

He would.

And if he didn't...

Todd would still be there.

—

Todd had always been able to fall asleep almost anywhere.

A couch. The library. The backseat of someone's car on a road trip. Class.

When he’s in his own bed, though? That took all of about thirty seconds.

The bedroom had settled into comfortable darkness, broken only by the faint orange glow of the digital alarm clock on the nightstand and the occasional sweep of headlights filtering through the blinds from the street below.

Todd lay on his back for a while, listening. The fraternity house had its own rhythm at night. The distant thud of a door downstairs. Someone laughing outside before their voices faded down the sidewalk. Old pipes ticking behind the walls.

Beside him, Bob shifted beneath the blankets.

Todd rolled onto his side, smiling sleepily.

"'Night."

Bob turned his head just enough to look at him.

"...Goodnight."

Todd reached across the mattress, lazily lacing their fingers together for a moment before letting his hand fall back onto the comforter.

Within minutes...

Todd was asleep.

But…

Bob wasn't.

He stared at the ceiling. His eyes burned from exhaustion, but every time he closed them, the same thoughts circled back.

The same voice. The same guilt. The same shame. The same impossible weight pressing against his chest.

He swallowed hard.

Not tonight.

Please... not tonight.

He turned onto one side. Then onto his back. Then onto his other side.

He tugged the blanket higher. Pushed it back down.

Closed his eyes. Opened them again.

Beside him, Todd slept peacefully, one arm thrown above his head, breathing slow and even.

Bob watched him for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," he whispered so quietly even he barely heard it.

Eventually...

Exhaustion won.

—

Todd wasn't sure what woke him. Not all the way, anyway. Just enough that the edges of sleep began to peel away. His brow furrowed. 

The mattress moved beneath him. Once. Then again. Another shift. Another.

Todd let out a sleepy breath through his nose.

"...Mmm..."

He cracked one eye open. The room remained dark, his vision taking a second to adjust.

Bob was curled tightly on his side. Far tighter than before. The comforter had twisted around his legs into a hopeless knot. His hair clung damply to his forehead. Even in the dim light, Todd could see the sheen of sweat covering his skin.

Bob's breathing wasn't steady anymore. It came in uneven pulls, his chest rising too quickly before hitching on the exhale. His face pinched with distress. Like he was trying to outrun something he couldn't see.

Todd frowned.

"Bob..."

Nothing.

Bob shifted again, his breathing catching. His fingers curled tightly into the sheets.

Todd pushed himself up onto one elbow.

"...Hey."

Still nothing.

Just another restless twitch. Another uneven breath. Another quiet sound caught somewhere between a sigh and a whimper.

Todd's heart sank.

Nightmare. Must be.

He let out a soft sigh. Without thinking, he reached across the narrow space between them.

His hand settled gently around Bob's damp forearm. Just enough pressure to ground him. Just enough to let him know he wasn't alone.

The instant their skin touched—

The room vanished.

There wasn't a flash. No sound. No sensation of falling.

One heartbeat, Todd was sitting in bed beside Bob.

The next...

Everything disappeared.

—

Todd stumbled.

His foot caught on... nothing.

His body lurched forward, arms pinwheeling instinctively as he fought to keep his balance. He managed to catch himself just before his knees hit the floor, one hand slapping against a surface that felt perfectly smooth beneath his palm.

"...What?"

He straightened slowly. For a second, his brain refused to process what his eyes were seeing.

White. Everything was white.

The floor beneath him stretched endlessly in every direction, seamless and spotless. There were no walls. Or maybe there were—they were simply so impossibly far away that they dissolved into brightness before he could make them out.

There was no ceiling.

At least... none that he could see.

He tipped his head back until his neck protested.

Nothing. Just white.

No lights. No shadows. No source for the strange, even glow that surrounded him.

Todd turned in a slow circle.

Nothing changed. No furniture. No windows. No doors. No sound. Not even the faint ringing silence of an empty building. It was quieter than quiet. It felt as though someone had erased the entire world.

"What the..."

His own voice startled him. It echoed. Not once. Not twice. It just... kept going. Growing softer and softer until it became impossible to tell whether he was still hearing it or imagining it.

Todd's stomach tightened.

"...Bob?"

The name left his mouth and drifted away exactly the same way.

Bob...

...Bob...

......Bob...

Then… Nothing. No answer. No footsteps. No movement.

Todd turned again, faster this time.

"Bob?"

Silence.

His breathing grew noticeably shallower. His pulse, moments ago slow with sleep, hammered against his ribs.

"What the fuck?"

The words bounced away from him in endless repetitions before finally dissolving into the impossible emptiness.

He stood perfectly still.

Think.

Had he fallen asleep? No. He'd been awake. Hadn't he?

He could still remember reaching for Bob. Feeling the warmth of his arm beneath his hand. The sweat on his skin.

Then… This.

"...Okay," Todd muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"This is..."

He never finished the sentence. Something caught the corner of his eye.

He froze. Several yards away stood a pair of immaculate French doors. They hadn't been there a second ago. Todd was certain of it.

They stood alone in the endless white, unattached to any wall, as though someone had simply placed them in the middle of nowhere and walked away. They were beautiful. Painted a brilliant white that matched the room around them so perfectly they almost disappeared unless he looked directly at them.

Except… French doors had glass.

These didn't. Solid panels. No windows. No way to see through them.

Todd swallowed.

"Okay..."

He took one cautious step. Then another. The doors didn't move. Didn't grow closer as quickly as they should have. For one uneasy moment, he wondered if he was walking at all. Eventually, after what felt much longer than the distance should have required, he reached them. His heart pounded so loudly he could hear it. He looked for a handle. There wasn't one. Not on this side.

His brow furrowed.

"...Seriously?"

He lifted both hands anyway.

The wood felt cool beneath his palms.

Real. Solid.

He hesitated. Just long enough for doubt to creep in.

Then he took a steadying breath...

...and pushed.

The doors swung inward without the slightest sound.

The doors opened.

Todd stumbled through them and nearly lost his footing again.

Carpet. The familiar scratch of old beige carpet beneath his socked feet. He caught himself against the back of the couch, blinking hard.

"...What?"

The fraternity house. Living room. Exactly as he'd left it. The faded sectional. The dented coffee table with years of carved initials. The chipped lamp in the corner that nobody ever bothered replacing. The television still glowed across the room. The same show was playing. The actors' mouths moved. The laugh track flashed across the subtitles. But… There was no sound. Not even static. The room had been muted.

Todd frowned.

"Hello?"

His own voice didn't echo anymore. It simply… Disappeared. Like the room swallowed it whole.

He looked toward the staircase. Nobody.

Kitchen. Empty.

The front door remained shut. Everything looked normal. Almost.

His eyes drifted back toward the living room. Then stopped.

His entire body locked. 

There were people. Five of them. Standing silently throughout the room. One beside the television. Another near the front window. Two between the couch and the hallway. One in the doorway leading toward the kitchen.

Completely still. Each wore an ordinary brown paper bag over their head. No eye holes. No mouth. Nothing. Just blank paper. Their hands were clasped neatly behind their backs. Not restrained. Simply… Resting there. Waiting.

Todd's breathing hitched. His face drained of color.

"...No."

The word escaped before he could stop it. His feet refused to move.

He knew. He didn't know how. He couldn't explain why. But he knew. He knew exactly who they were. And he knew he couldn't bring himself to get close enough to look.

One of the figures shifted. Not much. Just a single, measured step forward. The soft scrape of a shoe across carpet.

Todd instinctively stepped back.

"No."

Another figure moved. One slow step. Still silent. Still faceless.

Todd shook his head harder.

"No."

His voice cracked.

"That wasn't my fault."

Nothing. Not a word. Not a gesture. The figures simply stood there. Watching.

"Th-they were drinking."

Silence.

Todd's chest tightened.

"I told them not to—"

He caught himself. His jaw clenched. His breathing grew ragged.

"I wasn't even..."

The sentence died before it could leave his mouth. Because he knew how it ended.

...there.

He'd said it before. Too many times. Like saying it often enough would make the guilt smaller.

The nearest figure took another deliberate step.

Todd didn't wait for another. He spun on his heel.

His socks slipped against the carpet as he broke into a sprint toward the staircase. He didn't look back. He couldn't.

Some part of him was terrified that if he did, the bags would be gone. And he'd finally have to see their faces.

Todd took the stairs two at a time. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out everything else. The old wooden steps groaned beneath his weight as he flew upward, nearly clipping his shoulder against the banister on the landing.

He didn't slow down. Didn't think. Didn't look back.

He couldn't.

Some instinct deep in his chest screamed that whatever stood downstairs was still there. Still waiting. Still watching.

His bedroom door came into view at the end of the hallway. Relief flooded him so suddenly it almost hurt. His room. Bob was in there. He'd fallen asleep.

This—

Whatever this was—

Would make sense once he got back to Bob.

Todd grabbed the doorknob. Twisted. Threw the door open.

Every thought in his head stopped.

Darkness. Not ordinary darkness. Not the kind that came from forgetting to turn on a lamp.

This swallowed everything. There was no glow from the alarm clock. No light creeping through the blinds from the street outside. No moonlight. No outlines. No bed. No desk. No window. Just a wall of perfect, impossible black stretching beyond the doorway.

Todd stood frozen, one hand still gripping the knob.

"...Bob?"

His voice vanished into the darkness.

No echo. No reply. Only silence.

A knot formed in his stomach. He should have turned around. Should have shut the door. Should have run.

Instead...

He took one cautious step forward.

The instant his weight shifted onto his front foot—the floor disappeared.

For one impossible heartbeat, he hung suspended in nothing.

Then gravity found him. Todd dropped into the darkness with a startled shout, the bedroom vanishing above him as he fell.

The fall ended violently. Todd hit something hard enough to drive the air from his lungs.

"—Gh!"

Metal rang beneath him as his back slammed against it. Pain exploded between his shoulder blades, and for a moment all he could do was lie there, staring up at a sky with no stars.

Cold air filled his lungs in a shaky gasp.

"...Ow..."

He squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing, before forcing himself onto one elbow. Everything hurt. He rubbed the back of his head, expecting to find blood. Luckily nothing. Just an ache.

"What the hell..."

He pushed himself upright.

The metal beneath his feet rocked gently.

Todd froze.

He knew that feeling. Not solid ground. A boat.

His eyes darted around.

A pontoon boat floated alone in the middle of impossibly dark water. The aluminum deck stretched only a few yards in either direction, surrounded by black that seemed to swallow every trace of reflected light. There was no shoreline. No dock. No lights in the distance. Only endless water.

A bitter wind swept across the lake, cutting through his T-shirt and raising goosebumps along his arms. Todd wrapped his arms around himself instinctively.

"What is this...?"

His voice disappeared into the night. No echo. No answer.

The boat drifted with slow, lazy movements beneath his feet. Then his eyes caught something near the bow.

Someone.

Todd's stomach dropped.

"No..."

The figure lay crumpled against one of the vinyl benches. Perfectly still. An old fraternity sweatshirt. Jeans. One arm bent awkwardly beneath him.

Todd's pulse began hammering. He knew that sweatshirt. He knew that build. He knew—

"No..."

His legs carried him forward before his mind could stop them. Each step felt heavier than the last. When he got close enough to see the face...

...he stopped breathing.

A former fraternity brother. Eyes open. Staring at nothing. A long trail of dried blood ran from his temple, disappearing into the collar of his sweatshirt. The wound had long since stopped bleeding. Everything about him was still. Too still.

Todd's face drained of every bit of color.

He stumbled backward so quickly he nearly tripped over his own feet.

"No..."

His voice barely existed.

"I..."

He shook his head.

"I wasn't even there."

The body didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't breathe.

"I wasn't…"

Nothing.

Todd's breathing grew shorter. Faster. His chest tightened until every inhale felt too small.

"I wasn't..."

He took another step back. His hands trembled violently now.

"I wasn't there."

The words sounded less like an explanation… and more like a plea.

His voice finally broke.

"I WASN'T EVEN THERE!"

The scream tore across the empty lake. No birds scattered. No one answered.

The water remained perfectly black. Perfectly still. As though the entire world had simply absorbed his grief without acknowledging it.

Todd backed away again. One more desperate step. His heel landed on empty air. His balance vanished.

"Oh—!"

His arms shot outward.

For one split second, he caught nothing but freezing wind. Then he tipped backward over the edge of the pontoon.

The black water rushed up to meet him. It swallowed him whole. The cold lasted only a heartbeat.

Todd burst through the surface with a violent gasp, coughing water from his lungs as sunlight blinded him.

He blinked hard. The lake was gone. Instead, blue tile shimmered beneath him. Chlorine stung his nose. The sharp scent of sunscreen lingered faintly in the warm afternoon air.

Todd spun in the water, chest heaving.

"...What?"

The campus pool. He knew it instantly. The diving boards. The white lounge chairs lined neatly against the fence. The lifeguard stand standing empty beneath a bright blue umbrella.

Only, there wasn't another person in sight.

No splashing. No music. No conversations drifting across the water.

The entire pool sat unnaturally still beneath the afternoon sun. Then he saw him.

Bob.

Curled tightly against the concrete deck near the shallow end. His knees were pulled to his chest. His forehead rested against them. Both arms wrapped around his legs so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

Todd couldn't see his face. But he could hear him.

"I'm sorry..."

The words were barely louder than breathing.

"...I'm sorry."

Another pause.

"I'm sorry..."

Todd's heart dropped into his stomach.

"Bob!"

He started swimming before he even realized he'd moved. His arms cut through the water as fast as they could.

"Bob!"

Nothing. Bob didn't react. Didn't lift his head. Didn't even flinch. He just kept whispering.

"...I'm sorry."

Todd reached the edge, grabbed the concrete, and hauled himself out in one frantic motion. Water streamed from his clothes as he broke into a run.

"Bob!"

For a moment, he thought he was getting closer.

Then, Bob seemed farther away. Todd frowned but didn't stop. He ran harder. The distance only grew. The pool deck stretched impossibly ahead of him, the white concrete lengthening with every desperate step.

"No..."

He looked behind him. The edge he'd climbed out from was just as far away.

His pulse thundered.

"This isn't—"

He ran again. Harder. Faster. Bob shrank farther into the distance.

"No!"

Todd skidded to a stop, breathing hard. His fists clenched.

The dream wanted him to panic. He knew that much now.

He shut his eyes. Forced himself to inhale. Then exhale. Slowly. One more breath.

When he opened his eyes again, Bob was only a few yards away. So close Todd could hear him clearly now.

"...I'm sorry."

Todd didn't hesitate. He sprinted the remaining distance and dropped to his knees so hard they struck the concrete with a painful crack.

"Bob!"

His hands found Bob's shoulders.

Warm. Real.

Bob jolted violently. His head snapped up. His eyes were bloodshot, tears streaking both cheeks as though he'd been crying for hours.

For one stunned second, he simply stared.

"Todd...?"

Before Todd could answer, Bob threw himself forward. His arms wrapped tightly around Todd's neck, nearly knocking him backward onto the concrete. The force of it stole Todd's balance. He caught himself with one hand behind him while instinctively wrapping his other arm around Bob's back.

Bob was shaking. Not just trembling. Shaking so hard Todd could feel it through both of their shirts.

"I'm sorry."

Todd tightened his hold without thinking.

"It's okay."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay."

Bob buried his face against Todd's shoulder.

His voice cracked.

"I can't control him."

Todd's brow furrowed. He pulled back just enough to look at him.

"...Who?"

The world fell silent. Not gradually.

Instantly.

The faint rustle of the breeze disappeared. The distant hum of campus vanished. Even the water behind them stopped lapping against the edge of the pool.

Todd felt it before he understood it. The air itself seemed... heavier. As though something had stepped into the space around them and stolen all the sound with it.

Bob froze.

One moment he was clinging desperately to Todd. The next, very muscle in his body locked.

His breathing stopped.

Todd felt the change immediately. He frowned.

"...Bob?"

Bob didn't answer.

Todd eased back just enough to look at him. The color had drained completely from Bob's face.

His eyes weren't looking at Todd anymore. They were fixed on something just over his shoulder.

Fear. Pure, unmistakable fear.

Todd turned slowly.

There was no flash. No dramatic entrance. No burst of smoke or darkness.

One moment, nothing occupied the pool deck beside them. The next, someone simply stood there. As though they had always been part of the scene. A shadow given shape.

Still. Patient. Watching. The Void.

Todd stared. His mind searched desperately for an explanation that refused to come.

The figure didn't move. Didn't blink. It merely regarded them with an unsettling calm.

Then...

Very slowly...

It smiled.

Not wide. Not exaggerated. Just enough.

Enough to make Todd's stomach twist.

Before he could think about it, his body moved.

He stood. One step. Then another. Until he was squarely between Bob and the figure. Protective. Instinctive.

His heart hammered against his ribs, but he didn't look away.

"You can't take him from me."

Behind him, Bob made a small, broken sound.

The Void tilted its head. Almost curious. Almost amused. Its smile never faltered.

"You think you have Bob."

The words were quiet. Measured. Almost conversational.

Silence settled between them.

Then:

"I've had him much longer."

Todd's jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

"He doesn't belong to you."

The being’s smile widened just a fraction. There was no anger in it. No frustration. Only certainty.

"Oh, Todd," The Void's voice remained calm. "So earnest."

It took one slow step forward.

"He was never yours."

Something in Todd snapped. He didn't stop to think. Didn't weigh the odds. Didn't question whether this thing could even be hurt. He simply did what Todd had always done when someone threatened the people he loved.

He swung. His fist drove straight into the Void's face with every ounce of strength he had.

Todd exploded upright with a ragged gasp.

The bedroom snapped back into existence around him.

Dark walls. The dresser. The alarm clock glowing faintly on the nightstand. The window. His bedroom.

At the exact same moment, Bob bolted upright beside him.

Both of them were breathing like they'd just sprinted for miles. Sweat clung to Todd's neck and soaked through the back of his T-shirt.

For several long seconds, neither of them spoke.

Todd couldn't. His chest hurt too much. His heart hammered violently against his ribs as he stared into the darkness, trying to convince himself it was over.

He looked at the wall. Real. The window. Real. The bedroom door. Still closed. The ceiling. Exactly where it belonged. He swallowed hard. Real. It was all real. His breathing remained uneven as his eyes slowly drifted toward the other side of the bed. Bob was already looking at him. Not confused. Not groggy. He knew. He knew exactly what had happened.

Bob's face lost what little color it had left. His lips parted.

"Oh no..."

The whisper was so small Todd almost missed it.

Bob's expression shattered. He threw the blankets aside so quickly they tangled further around his legs.

"I have to go."

Todd blinked.

"...What?"

"I'm sorry."

Bob climbed off the bed with shaking hands.

"I'm sorry."

He crouched beside the dresser, fumbling blindly for his shoes.

Todd watched him for only a second before understanding hit. Bob wasn't looking for answers. He was leaving.

"Bob..."

"I'm leaving."

Todd was off the bed before Bob could stand. He crossed the room in three quick strides and reached the door first, planting himself squarely in front of it.

Bob froze.

"Todd..."

"No."

Bob's shoulders sagged.

"I can't stay."

"You can."

"You saw him."

"I did."

"You don't understand."

Todd shook his head once.

"I don't."

Bob looked away. His breathing hitched painfully.

"I'm dangerous."

Todd didn't answer immediately. He simply looked at him. Really looked. The trembling hands. The tears gathering despite Bob's desperate attempts to blink them away. The guilt that seemed stitched into every inch of him.

Finally, Todd spoke.

"No."

Bob frowned. Confused.

Todd's voice stayed quiet.

"I saw you."

Bob's eyes lifted.

"You weren't hurting anybody."

Silence.

"You were apologizing."

Bob's breathing caught.

"You were crying."

Bob’s lower lip began to tremble.

"You were terrified."

Whatever strength Bob had been holding onto disappeared. His face crumpled completely. Tears spilled freely now. Not the quiet kind he could hide by looking away. The kind that stole his breath.

"I..." His voice cracked. "I can't always stop him."

Todd took one careful step forward.

"That’s okay."

"I've tried."

"I know."

Bob scrubbed at his face with the heel of one hand.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does."

"He always comes back."

"I know."

Bob let out a broken laugh that sounded nothing like laughter.

"No."

He shook his head weakly.

"You don't."

Todd held his gaze. Then nodded once.

"I do now."

The room fell quiet again. Bob looked exhausted. Like he'd spent years carrying something no one else could see. His shoulders slowly folded inward.

"I can't fight him."

Todd closed the remaining distance between them. Very gently he reached for Bob's hands.

Bob didn't pull away. Todd wrapped his fingers around them.

They were freezing.

"You don't have to."

Bob stared at him.

"...Todd..."

"As long as you quit trying to do it by yourself."

The words were simple. Matter-of-fact. No dramatic speech. No impossible promises. Just the truth.

Something inside Bob finally gave way. A quiet, shuddering sob escaped him before he could stop it. His knees threatened to buckle. Todd caught him immediately. Without hesitation. Without thinking. He pulled Bob against him with both arms, holding him upright as though letting go wasn't even an option. Bob buried his face against Todd's shoulder. His entire body shook with silent sobs. Todd held him tighter. Not because he thought it would make the nightmare disappear. But because, after everything he'd seen he understood that this was one battle Bob should never have had to fight alone.

—

They stayed like that for a long time. Neither of them moved. The room was quiet except for Bob's uneven breathing slowly beginning to settle against Todd's shoulder. Todd didn't rush him. Didn't fill the silence with reassuring words. He simply held on. One hand rested between Bob's shoulder blades, moving in slow, absent circles whenever another shudder worked its way through him.

Eventually, Todd leaned back just enough to see Bob's face. His eyes were still red. His cheeks were damp. His hair stuck to his forehead from sweat. He looked exhausted. Completely exhausted.

Todd offered the smallest smile.

"...Come back to bed."

Bob blinked.

"...What?"

Todd shrugged one shoulder.

"I'm tired."

A watery, disbelieving laugh escaped Bob before he could stop it.

"...Todd..."

"I mean it."

There wasn't a trace of hesitation in Todd's voice. No pity. No uncertainty. Just quiet certainty.

Bob searched his face for several long seconds.

Looking for... something. Fear. Regret. Second thoughts. He found none.

Slowly, almost timidly, he nodded.

"...Okay."

They crossed the room together. Neither of them climbed into bed immediately. Bob stood beside it with his hands shoved awkwardly into the pockets of his sweatpants, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.

Todd noticed. Without saying anything, he pulled back the comforter and climbed in first.

He settled against the headboard.

Then, he simply lifted one arm. An invitation. Nothing more.

Bob looked at him. His eyes softened.

Wordlessly, he climbed in beside him. The mattress dipped beneath his weight. Todd wrapped his arm around his shoulders, drawing him in until Bob rested comfortably against his side.

Then he reached for the comforter, pulling it over both of them.

The room fell quiet again.

Bob's breathing still trembled every few seconds. Each inhale caught just a little before finally evening out.

Todd rested his chin lightly against the top of Bob's head.

Neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't uncomfortable anymore.

It was... peaceful.

Outside, the old fraternity house settled around them. Wood creaked somewhere in the hallway. Pipes knocked softly inside the walls. A car passed on the street below, its headlights briefly painting pale lines across the ceiling before disappearing again.

Life continued.

For several minutes, neither of them moved.

Todd's thumb traced slow circles across Bob's shoulder through the fabric of his T-shirt. Back and forth. Again. Again. Until Bob's breathing had almost returned to normal.

Only then did Todd speak. His voice was barely above a whisper.

"...Next time..."

Bob tipped his head just enough to look up at him.

"...Yeah?"

Todd's thumb paused for just a moment before resuming its slow rhythm.

"Wake me up before you fight him."

Everything inside Bob seemed to stop. His eyes searched Todd's face. Looking for a joke. For misunderstanding. For evidence that Todd hadn't really meant what he'd said.

There was none. 

Todd wasn't talking about nightmares. He wasn't pretending it hadn't happened. He wasn't asking questions.

He was acknowledging it. Acknowledging him. Acknowledging the battle Bob had been fighting alone for longer than Todd had ever known him. And choosing, without hesitation, to stand beside him anyway.

Bob's face crumpled. Fresh tears slipped free before he could stop them. Not from fear. Not this time.

He buried his face against Todd's chest, one hand curling tightly into the front of Todd's T-shirt.

Todd didn't say another word. He simply tightened his arm around him.

After a moment, he pressed a gentle kiss into Bob's damp hair.

The kind that asked for nothing. Promised nothing impossible.

Only...

I'm here.

Bob closed his eyes.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on his chest didn't feel quite so unbearable.

Outside, the fraternity house continued its familiar chorus of creaks and settling wood. Inside, wrapped safely in Todd's arms, Bob's breathing gradually deepened.

Eventually, slowly, Bob fell asleep.

This time, he didn't have to face the darkness alone.

The red rope you used to tie him with is soft on his skin, but still firm enough that it left temporary indentations. A remembrance of your night together that he’ll be able to look on and admire once the haze of the rut finally wore off. Marks that used to make him shudder and his anxiety to spike now leave him blushing as he remembered what pleasure caused those beautiful shades of pink and red all over his pale, delicate skin.

It took a while for Miles to be comfortable with being tied like this for both of your gratification. But he soon found enjoyment in being able to give himself to you completely and you to him. You already had all his trust as it is, accepting his taboo of being called an omega during his rut and loving him despite all the crimes and mistakes he made in the past. He was able to surrender to you, knowing all it took was one word, and he’d be free. You made sure he knew he was always in control, even if the rope said otherwise.

“Please, please alpha!” Miles cries, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks as you bounce on his lap. You’re reverent in your speed, the bedframe banging against the wall with every bounce, taking and taking from the alpha who filled you so well, until he was reduced to nothing a blubbering moaning mess, begging for your knot.

“What do you need alpha to do, my sweet little omega?” Miles bites back a whimper, the vein in his neck pulsing as he strains and fights against the restraints. You chuckle, clamping down harder around his cock, “Come on baby, words. Or else you're not getting this knot anytime soon.”

A choked sob leaves him, “N-need your knot! Please, please alpha! Need you to knot me! Need it so bad!”

Your clit twitches at how pretty he sounds as he begs for you. Most alphas are dominating, borderline overbearing during their ruts, taking whatever they needed from their mates. Miles was the opposite, putty in your hands as he took whatever you allowed.

Miles’s face scrunches up in agony as you continue to clench around him. It takes all of the self-control he has to not knot you right then and there. Just when he thinks he’s not going to cum before your say so, your fingers glide up along his stomach before circling his chest. His heart skips a beat, breath shaking at your devilish grin before you bend forward, take his nipple between your teeth, and tug.

Miles’s reaction is instant. Back arching off the bed as you knock the air out of his lungs. You swirl his hardened nub with your tongue, the fire in your belly burning at all the broken, beautiful cries that left his wet, trembling lips, “Please, alpha! I can’t hold it anymore, please – I need – please -”

You let go of his swollen nub with a wet pop, smirking when you see how far gone he is. You leer over him, licking your lips like an animal about to devour its meal as you eye the mating bond on his neck. The one you'd given each other after his near kiss with death, when you finally decided there was nothing in this world that you wanted more than to be each other's mates for life. 

A desperate mewl leaves him when your nose bumps against it, your breath hot against his ear as you growl, “Cum. Cum for your alpha.” Before you bite down on his mating mark.

A broken, animalistic cry leaves him as he jerks up into you, his knot catching onto your pussy, sealing you together while he fills you to the brim with his seed. You gasp, seeing white as his cock pumps his spent into you. When you’ve overworked and overstimulated him for as long and as cruelly as you have tonight, it leaves Miles producing so much cum, it leaves you feeling bloated and heavy.

You slowly rock your hips forward and back, biting back a groan when you feel his cock twitch inside you, another spurt of cum trickling in. Miles whimpers, eyes scrunching closed as you milk him dry, “Alpha! Alpha, please, it’s too much…”

Your hips come to halt, your hand coming up to caressing his tear-stained cheeks, “Sorry baby, got carried away.”

He accepts your apology with a nod, panting as he nuzzles against your hand. Your thumb wipes away any remaining tears from his reddened cheeks. Miles looks so beautiful like this. Hair messy, eyes wet, lips swollen, his entire frame trembling as he comes down from an intense orgasm. He’s so ethereal, an alpha gifted with the beauty omegas would die for, and he’s all yours.

Miles whines for your attention when you space out, the bedframe groaning as he jerks his hand towards you “Alpha, alpha hands. My hands, the rope…”

“I got you baby, don’t worry.”

The moment you untie him, shaking arms wrap around you, pulling you impossibly closer to Miles’s chest. The rapid beating of his heart echoes in your ears, but with every light kiss you press against his chest, the steadier it gets.

“Such a good omega, taking my knot so well,” Miles relishes in your praises, chirping and peppering the top of your head in affectionate kisses.

Most of your time attached to each other is spent lazily making out with the alpha below you, combing your fingers through his hair and giggling as you share this quiet, intimate moment of post-sex bliss. Checking in on him, kissing the red indents left on his skin from the rope, and nuzzling the mating mark that connected you two for life.

Once his knot deflates, you’ll be able to convince him to let you go. It’ll take some more reassurance that you’ll be gone for less than five minutes. Miles is always extra clingy during his rut, his instincts screaming at him to keep you close and full of him, but you need to take advantage of these semi lucid moments when you can or else you’d never get some water and food in your mate.

Miles still has another day or two of rut left in him but keeping him hydrated and nourished was a duty you took seriously. But for now, there’s nowhere for you to go when you’re connected like this, but neither of you would want to be anywhere else anyway.

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