#sleepcest

It was only occasionally BT found himself restless on a night as calm as this. Warm, the moonlight peeking curiously into the room from the curtains, and the sound of his husband sleeping soundly next to him (which was rare, considering his situation). He could swear he heard the cheerful chirping of crickets outside, but it was likely his imagination and lack of rest. Or the fact that he'd entered yet another downward spiral into paranoia and hadn't hit his bottom yet.

Although his episodes here occurred much less than they did prior to meeting Sommy and his family, they were sporadic in some cases, and always intense and drawn out. Often triggered by a lack of attention, snowballing into jealousy from there. Since no one completely understood him (and he was certain of it), the name-calling and put downs naturally followed suit and made him feel even worse. From the entire factory household, in fact. Names like "man child", "baby", "stupid"...

"You're acting really stupid."

"That's stupid."

"Are you stupid?"

For the past twenty-two years, he had lost count of the times someone had called him 'stupid' or 'dumb'. Although he'd retort for arguments sake, he ultimately accepted that he wasn't the brightest star in the sky. Before, he'd lose sleep over something like that, but it gradually became easier to deal with. And while it didn't bother him any less, he became used to it. It wouldn't have been so easily accepted if there wasn't a massive amount of evidence accounting for his stupidity. A lazy, ill dressed, failure with no money and the inability to swallow his pride is nothing to admire. He hadn't talked to his mother in nearly six months. The prominence of homosexual tendencies and lack of blood related grandchildren scared her off, he was absolutely positive.

He rolled over to check the clock for the umpteenth time. Two thirty-eight in the morning. Yeah, he was definitely experiencing an episode. This, accompanied by tossing and turning and time checks were starting to drive him into a crying fit. He bit his lip and carefully wrapped his arms around Sommy's waist, curling his body into the crooks. If it wasn't for the little things like being able to sleep next to someone at night, he'd have certainly not been able to make as many rebounds has he had in the past. For someone as broken as he, even the tiniest positive gesture gave him an uplifting feeling.

The upsetting thing about it was that he knew exactly why this was happening. It was always the same thing. His fear of abandonment had begun to eat him from the inside out, and it made him sick to his stomach to watch Sommy interact with other people on a "comfortable friend" level rather than give BT the time of day. What was playful joking around to most people, Bedtime saw as a tinge of betrayal. The casual sex jokes Sommy shared with Twelve, as funny and innocent as they were, ripped BT to shreds on an emotional level. And the less attention he received, the more hostile he grew. Now, having a Twelve over as a guest in the same bed was something he couldn't tolerate, and a night on the floor or in the bath tub was not uncommon.

He didn't say much about how badly this hurt his feelings. Because it really was ridiculous and blown out of proportion on his behalf. He let his actions speak, and if confronted, he would gently explain himself. But it never made him feel any better. And the instances were never ending and a constant. Jealousy, followed by anger, then rage, and then guilt. He figured everyone had their own flaws, but his were so... prominent and outlandish. Sure, his confident demeanor said otherwise for all of this, but that was just a silly facade.

He could very vividly imagine Sommy— no, the entire family— getting tired of him. Sommy would pull him aside, take his hand, and tug on his ring finger to swap jewelry.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry."

A somber ride back to the tent (if Melvin was even still around), reliving the past year of his life with his now ex-husband and what he could have done to prevent their divorce and his countless mistakes and failures would haunt him the entire way home. If he ever made it there. And what would happen to Sommy after BT took his leave? Would he find someone who treated him better? Someone who wasn't so envious of his other relationships? Someone who had the money to buy him a bouquet of roses, just because they could? Maybe they'd take him out to a movie and a nice dinner, or present tickets to some far off place for a spontaneous getaway. Nothing BT could ever dream of accomplishing.

"Hhhhnnn..."

He gave Sommy's waist a small squeeze, burying his face into his back. 'Don't cry. Don't start.' His throat clenched and his breathing faltered. His imagination would easily become reality if he didn't get a hold of himself. This entire fiasco of low self-esteem and wave after wave of neuroticism was wearing him out emotionally. And he would bet money (of he actually had any) that his friends and family were becoming fed up with him, too. He couldn't stand to lose Sommy, the only person he had left. His blue-clad counterpart was his foundation, because without him, he would have no one. Sommy leaving him would separate him from his entire adopted family, leaving him alone. Perhaps that's why he was so protective and adamant of his husband's decisions. He peered over his shoulder at the clock again.

Three twenty-six.

He gingerly planted a kiss on the nape of Sommy's neck, being careful not to wake him up despite his sniffling. His mind reeled, trying to muster up something positive to think about. The constant reassurances his husband gave him, or the pillow fort movie nights they had on the weekends. The hot cocoa and massages, or the rare snogging sessions they had when they found themselves home alone. The food posts he and Twelve shared. He had some resentment towards his kismesis, but the common interest in food kept them from killing each other, and BT respected that. Triple curling up to listen to him complain, or just to nap. Lucy giving him every ounce of herself to make sure he was doing alright. And he could go on for days about his "kids"...

"Mmm..."