#chris.005

Chris stood outside Zane’s house with the front door key in hand and a small, grocery bag in the other. He looked a little conflicted as he stared at the metal object in the middle of his palm. It felt a little odd to enter the other man’s home without him there, but he’d been given explicit permission — and he had the messages to prove it in case anyone asked. Still, he couldn’t help but to hesitate before resigning that it wouldn’t have been offered if Zane hadn’t meant it. With a decision made up, he unlocked the front door, slipped inside and locked it immediately behind him.

Other than the distant sound of laughter from a trick-or-treater or two, the house was quiet. It felt different with Zane gone, but it was still better than the small cell-like motel room. While it had its charms and coziness when he’d first moved in, the Bearcliff motel started to feel more and more like a prison than a place to rest. He was grateful for this reprieve, even if he had to spend the evening alone. Chris removed his shoes at the door, a habit forced onto him, and set the bag onto the couch side table. He stared down at one of the cushions for a moment, noting the faintness of stains that lingered in the fabric before he turned back to the bag.

The rustling of plastic filled the room when he opened it and procured the outfit Zane had lent him the last time he was there — as well as the sweater from that first time. Apparently it had gotten lost among Chris’ other clothes, forever eaten by the hamper — or so he’d thought. He set the loosely folded items onto the table, balled up the shopping bag, and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. A stomach growl erupted from the depths of his stomach, which promptly reminded him that Zane had mentioned snacks. Now, he did feel a little embarrassed to be taken care of, especially so frequently, but he would be a fool to turn down food.

The house was big and the quiet was constant, but the snacks and change in scenery helped to ease some of Chris’ Halloween anxiety. He nested himself onto the same couch, a familiar and somewhat comfortable spot, with a blanket and munched away while he perused on his phone. Every so often he’d respond to a message from Zane or reply to an email regarding an order, but the sound of a Youtube video ended up filling the space as he drifted off to sleep.

—--

Excusing himself regularly to sneak a look at his phone was a new thing for Zane, his cell usually kept somewhere to the side while he worked since there was never really anything pressing to look at. Now, he found himself eager to check it between patients, hurriedly typing away a reply to Chris, heart warm at the thought of him finding comfort in the house. It wasn’t much but so far, it felt like the one genuinely helpful thing Zane had been able to do for the other man throughout all of their interactions. 

The other nurses noticed his distracted state, of course, nothing getting past those keen eyes. Their smiles were teasing as they poked fun at him, asking who the lucky guy was and leading to a very unconvincing argument that it was just a friend. They didn’t believe him and probably had no reason to as he got visibly flustered. A friend, just casually staying at his house? If they’d gotten any more details, Zane’s story would have sounded even less convincing. The fact that he was rushing home the second his shift ended definitely left his coworkers smiling coyly at his back. 

It was still dark by the time he trudged up to the house, sun just barely starting to make its presence known, so Zane moved quietly. It was a strange comfort, knowing there was someone inside, other than Buddy who was usually too lazy to even greet him at the door. His eyes adjusted to the dark quickly, spotting Chris bundled up on the couch and it reflectively brought a soft smile to Zane’s face. He finally looked goshdarn peaceful, curls framing the relaxed face and the remnants of snacks consumed littered on the small coffee table. 

For a moment Zane wished he needed to sleep, wanted to have a solid reason to tear himself away from his current spot where he was acting like a certified freak. Really living up to that romance-vampire farce. Finally snapping out of the daze, the thought of having someone to wake up with or come home to every day, the thought that things weren’t messed up, Zane resigned himself to a shower instead. Excited for Chris to wake up, to talk to him in person after the night of online messaging, but in no way prepared to wake him from the peaceful sleep. 

Hands ran through wet curls once the night shift had been washed off, thoughts about how much he needed a haircut occupying his mind as a towel got wrapped around his waist. His attempts to not think about Chris being asleep in the other room while showering had been successful enough to make Zane distractedly leave the bathroom on a mission towards his room, fully forgetting that someone might have been awake out there by now. 

—

Suffocated by nightmares or dead to the world were the only two ways of sleep that Chris tended to get — if he even slept at all. Fortunately, the sandman found a modicum of mercy that night and did allow him to sleep without too much twitching, talking, or tossing. He was able to curl up and bury his face into the couch cushions, a blanket wrapped tightly around him to keep his warmth close. He didn’t hear the front door open. He didn’t know that Zane had come home.

He thought something was off, however, when Chris did open his eyes for just a crack as he started to rouse. The plan was to close them again, to roll over and go back to sleep for who knew how long, but the sight of something other than the motel wall or flat pillow or plastic alarm clock sent a shock of sudden confusion and brief terror. Familiarity rolled back into him the minute he sat up. You’re fine, he told himself as he steadied his breath. You’re safe.

Chris loosened his grip on the couch and leaned against the back of it. His elbow pressed down into the cushion while his chin rested in his hand, ready to fall back asleep like that. He took note of the trash on the coffee table and sighed again. He was about to chastise himself for not taking care of his garbage before passing out when he heard a noise come from the direction of the bathroom. The light that eagerly tried to peak in through the curtains meant that it was morning. Did that mean Zane was back from work?

A beat of silence had Chris listening intently, though nervously. “Zane?” He called out, hesitantly, sleepily, and completely unsure of himself. What if it wasn’t Zane? What if someone else lived there, or if those other friends of his could get in, if they knew where the key was… He sat there with his eyes on the archway that led towards the hallway that contained the bathroom, alert and with breath held.

—

It was a matter of debate who got startled worse once Zane rounded the corner, him or the houseguest he had let slip from his mind. Post night shift brain fog was real but this felt like a giant oversight on his part, parading around the house in nothing but a towel. At the very least, he would have called out before exiting the bathroom, probably even doubled or tripled the amount of towels. Backtracking honestly felt like an option at one point but in the end, that seemed much more telling than simply swallowing his awkwardness and fumbling through this. 

“Hi! Hey, you’re… you’re up. Sorry I didn’t - I mean, I didn’t want to wake you when I got home because you looked way too comfortable.” Not that he’d been looking looking… One hand furtively moved to grip the edge of the towel, keeping it firmly in place even though Chris was definitely entitled to being on the other spectrum of accidental nudity for once. A stray drop of water trickled down his neck and Zane suppressed a shiver, feeling much more exposed now than the other night, every other aspect having been dimmed by blood and injury and panic. 

Now he was just standing half-naked in his own living room, trying to filter out all the weird things his brain was suggesting he say at this moment. 

“Guess it’s about time you got to be the fully dressed and not awkward one for once.” Yeah, weird shit like that. “Not that you’ve had any reason to be awkward, obviously. I mean, not obviously but more like, it’s not like you have anything to feel awkward about. In the sense that you’re… uhm. How was your night?” A very smooth save. Zane couldn’t help chuckling at himself, head shaking and eyes averting to the floor. “Sorry. Brain’s not… good after a night shift.”

—

Oh. Oh, good, it was just Zane. No one else had managed to sneak into the house and he didn’t wake to find himself somewhere else, somewhere horrible. He hadn’t dreamt the whole past month or so either, even though he sort of wished he had. No, this was real and Zane was there and everything was fine — for now. His own relief took hold quickly and visibly eased the stiffness in his shoulders and tension in his arms, but the other man still looked a little perturbed. Maybe it had something to do with the towel around his waist.

Chris expelled a calmer breath. “Hey,” he returned with a smile before shaking his head. “Oh, no worries, I think I needed the sleep anyway.. So thanks for not waking me up,” he finished with a small laugh. He sat up a bit better, now that he knew he didn’t need to make a beeline for an exit or fight for his life, and rubbed at his eyes to wake himself some more. He still felt tired, of course. He didn’t think that would ever go away. But last night’s rest had been one of the better nights; he was grateful it hadn’t been interrupted. He didn’t think it would really end well, either.

Zane stumbling over his words earned a laugh from the seated blonde who had just started to stretch his arms. “It’s okay, I get it. I, uh… I can definitely relate,” he pointed to his own head before uttering another little laugh and brushing away a stray curl that started to tickle one of his brows. “My night was… Good, pretty good. Definitely five stars compared to some of my other nights..” Another chuckle, this time with a tinge of that awkwardness Zane so endearingly threw out into the universe.

“Was work okay? When did you even get in? I didn’t hear a thing…” He asked with a more comfortable smile before his eyes widened with an ‘oh!’ and he patted one of the arm’s of the couch, the one closest to the side table. “I also, uh.. Brought you your clothes back. I cleaned them, of course.. I’m sorry if I stretched them out or anything. I tried really hard to be careful about taking them off…”

—

It probably proved how little Zane knew the other man, how surprised he was at Chris’s complete lack of discomfort at the situation this rambling was in no way improving. He mostly just looked relieved to see him, which did work some to calm the storm of anxious thoughts in Zane’s mind. Asking a question had seemed like the best way to divert the conversation back into something normal but he hadn’t figured for the actual conversation to follow. At least Chris’s laugh was helping to distract from the current situation. 

“Definitely less blood,” Zane agreed, smiling and letting himself once again enjoy just how calm the man looked, such a stark contrast from each and every one of their last meetings. 

He finally shifted, letting his feet move from being glued to the ground in mild terror, risking a few steps closer to the couch since standing all this distance away felt dumb. “Work was fine. Definitely busy, plenty of drunk people.” Zane sighed, recounting the hectic night. “Less weird than I expected, to be honest,” he chuckled, raking back the wet curls that were trying to drip into his face now. Attention turned to the clothes resting on the couch and he smiled wide, recognizing the hoodie from way back when. 

“Heh, thanks. Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t even expecting them back, anyway.” Closing the rest of the distance, Zane pulled the hoodie from the neatly folded pile, shrugging it on and feeling that much less exposed. Although it still smelled faintly of Chris which was a different problem all on its own. “I’m gonna put on some… more clothes,” he said sheepishly, shuffling his feet towards the stairs. “Help yourself to cereal in the kitchen if you want.” 

Once he finally had the comfort of pants, Zane returned downstairs with a skeptical Buddy in tow. Knowing Chris, the baku had probably gotten a decent meal last night. He left the hoodie on, zipped up to cover the faint remnants of the wolf’s damage, chastising himself for just how much he was letting himself enjoy the warm smell. “I totally forgot to mention the only other living thing in this house,” he started once Chris was in sight, gesturing down to Buddy who regarded the other man with wary curiosity. “This is Buddy. He, uh… eats nightmares.”

—

Chris had always felt sensitive to people’s emotions or to their posture — for as long as he could remember, he had the ability to read the room and adjust to it. Or leave, if it came down to it. He could generally tell if someone was happy or sad — or uncomfortable (was that the trauma or the wolf?). He could see a little in Zane, or rather, feel it. But he couldn’t blame him; the situation was too messed up, it felt surreal. At least, it didn’t feel completely like the nightmares that terrorized him. At least, Zane was there to make it a little bit better.

“Less weird?” He parroted, “that’s a good thing though, right?” Chris leaned back into the couch, happy with the comfort it gave him. “What were you expecting?” He asked, genuinely curious. He’d only ever witnessed the crazy a couple of times, but he assumed the ER was hectic during most, if not all, major holidays. It was over, though, and Zane was reunited with the sweaters he’d so willingly handed over. He watched as the hoodie was slipped on, effectively hiding Zane’s chest and the claw remnants that marked it. “It’s the least I could do… I wouldn’t be able to not return them, anyway.” Unless he broke them by accident, then he’d probably just get him a new one.

“Oh, yeah dude, go. Take your time.” Cereal sounded good; his stomach growled on cue, empty and with hunger pains. He was hungry, though something richer, more savory was preferred, like eggs or sausage, but the cereal would have to do. He found a seat in the kitchen, figuring it was better to eat in there than in the living room and had nearly finished the first bowl when Zane returned, this time clothed and dryer than before. Good. The damage Chris had supposedly done to the other man’s skin was a little too distracting for breakfast. He didn’t need to worry about that, though, not when there was an animal in the room.

He had paused mid-bite when he saw the creature that Zane referred to. It wasn’t a dog, no, nor a pig or a miniature pony — or really anything that could be considered a pet. Maybe it was something exotic, but again, nothing really sprang to mind when he took in Buddy’s appearance, tilting his head as if that would help him discern what he was. He looked back at the creature just as warily, chewing until his mouth was free so he could reply.

“Hey, Buddy…” Chris greet with a small, confused wave from his free hand. His head tilted to the other side as he regarded Zane’s… friend. The nightmare bit gave him pause. “What do you mean, he eats nightmares? Like, actually? … What is he?”

—

Leaning against the doorway, brown eyes flickered with mild worry between Buddy and Chris, the two now staring each other down. The baku seemed slightly on edge, perhaps sensing some sort of animalistic kinship in the man, stuck between that wariness and wanting to display affection for the lovely meal last night. Eventually, the baku dared to trod away from Zane’s side, moving closer to Chris after the hesitant greeting was delivered. As the long snout sniffed at the house guest’s feet, Zane relaxed and found himself smiling at the other’s adorable look of confusion. 

“Yeah, for real. He’s something called a baku, apparently. I had no idea, just brought him in off the street one day and a friend provided me with some information. Mostly the ‘eating nightmares’ part, although they didn’t really give me any specifics into how that actually works.” Finally moving into the kitchen, Zane took a seat opposite Chris, the domesticity of the situation making him feel warm in the same way the hoodie did before he derailed himself quickly from that train of thought. “He’s not dangerous or anything, just… feeds on nightmares, I guess. So if you had a good sleep, you probably have him to thank.” Zane paused, smiling once again as he looked down to see the baku still furiously investigating Chris now that he felt comfortable. 

“I can’t really tell you much else, don’t really sleep so no nightmares to even get eaten. Oh! Coffee.” Chair scraping the floor as he pushed back, Zane busied himself with making coffee, realizing as he started that he didn’t even know if Chris drank coffee. Well, at least it gave him something to do other than push away uninvited thoughts that seemed stronger than ever now that neither of them were bleeding or in mortal danger. 

—

As far as Chris knew, animals didn’t like him. He wasn’t allowed to have any pets growing up and when he tried to get one as an adult, that failed spectacularly. Reactions to him varied - some ran in an attempt to put as much distance between them as possible while others tried to bite him. He did his best not to think about how people liked to say that animals could tell if a person was “bad” or “evil” in some way, but it was difficult. 

This guy, though, didn’t seem to mind him. In fact, despite its initial wariness, it seemed curious for the stranger. The sniffling at his feet made Chris smile. The tidbit about “eating nightmares” sounded a little fake, in his opinion, but there was a lot in Wicked’s Rest that he couldn’t exactly explain - and he did have a decent night’s rest, definitely nightmare free, but that didn’t mean the baku did it. Right? Maybe he just felt comfortable there. 

Chris reached down and offered Buddy one of his hands as sacrifice to its trunk-like nose. Every bout of snuffling sent a tickle through him. “I did get a good sleep, actually… For once,” he finished with a breath of a chuckle. “I’m glad he likes me. I don’t have this kind of luck with animals.” Not up close, anyway. He could take hours of photos of animals from afar, but up close? He tended to be an interesting catalyst. “How long have you had him for?” He asked after a beat.

Hypocritically, he was about to tell Zane that sleep was important and he should probably start doing that, having completely forgotten about the whole “vampire” bit, until he had jumped up with the mention of coffee. In truth, Chris didn’t really drink coffee. He did like it, especially sweet, but it had a tendency to not agree with him and so he did his best to stay away from it. But if Zane was going to make him some, he couldn’t say no. Not after the way the other man hurried up from his seat to make him something warm to drink.

Even though it was moot at this point, he did hear himself say that he didn’t have to make him anything, but the thank you that followed up was said in earnest and with appreciation. His fingers found the top of Buddy’s head and gave the skin there a gentle scratch. The smell of the coffee was comforting as it brewed and between the attention from Buddy and the calmness that settled in the kitchen sent a beat of warmth through him. This was really nice.

—

Zane couldn’t help the regular glances over his shoulder as the water came to a boil, catching glimpses of Chris smiling down at his strange animal. Maybe it should have been obvious that an actual werewolf wouldn’t be too put off by a weird, little creature like Buddy but then again, Chris wasn’t exactly all chill when it came to the supernatural. Which just made this actually normal morning, sans the nightmare eating pet, even nicer. “That’s good. And by the way, no way you’re sleeping on a couch next time. I mean, if you want to crash here again sometime, obviously. There’s plenty of spare bedrooms.”

Chuckling at the bit of bonding happening behind his back, Zane shrugged. “I’ve had him for a few months now, actually. And he’s not too hard to win over. Some petting and, in your case, a meal, is all it takes. And he can probably tell that you’re nice.” Where other animals wouldn’t - although Zane refused to believe it was because they didn’t trust Chris. As someone who had looked directly into the eyes of whatever Chris shared his consciousness with, Zane knew they were two different entities entirely. So if animals didn’t like the man calmly eating cereal and patting the baku, that was through no fault of Chris’s.