I've never told anyone this

We were lying curled together on top of my bed, neither of us having the forethought to remove off the covers before we made love and both of us lacking the energy to attempt it in the afterglow.

"Gabriel?" He murmured, pulling me from my wandering thoughts.

"Hmm?" I was too relaxed to be more coherent than that. I nuzzled my face against his cheek, pressing a chaste kiss there as he tangled our limbs together.

Running my hands up and down Foster's back in a soothing motion that would have put him to sleep if there hadn't been a kind of significance to his query. "Why are you afraid of me leaving?"

I blinked up at him. "Huh?" was the brilliant, eloquent response I came up with.

"Why did you talk about me leaving you? I don't ever want to leave."

"It's not important right now." I leaned in, kissing him lightly.

He pulled back so we could see each other. "I'm not convinced."

I squirmed, I did not want to have this particular conversation at the moment. "It's really not an issue-"

"Gabriel." He cut me off with gentle reprimand in his voice, one hand splaying over my head.

"Seriously, Foster, it's not-"

"Gabriel," He repeated, tilting my head up so we were eye to eye.

"It's not something I talk about."

I moved my fingers over Foster's face in that quiet, exploratory way of mine. I traced his cheekbone, the bridge of his nose, the shape of his eyebrow. I drug my fingers along the side of his face, curling around the nape of his neck, moving so our lips were almost touching when I murmured, "I will share you."

I regained my composure. "Are you aware of my other self?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Your other self?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. I do not usually allow him to come out but at times he can be...he can be a bit persistent." I stared at my hands again.

"Do you..." I gathered my energy before speaking again. "Do you wish to meet him?"

He looked at me awhile longer as if settling a war in his mind. The war had gone in favor of me switching.

My expression devoid of any emotion as I let my other self free.

"Gabriel?" He tilted his head.

"Nope. Guess again." Dexter teased.

He didn't put any thought into it.

"Gabriel?"

“It’s my turn,” Dexter's voice was quiet, filled with hurt.

"Your turn?" Foster returned.

“You’ve already skipped me twice,” Dexter snarled, fighting him off.

“You hurt him.” It was my voice; Dexter had retreated, pushing his protector out. "I’m the only one allowed to hurt him."

“Gabriel, bring him back, please, I need to talk to him. We need to sort this out.”

"His name is Dexter." I said, switching back.

Dexter is a screaming wreck, desperate to be abused.

"It's my turn now." Dexter said quietly, still feeling hurt.

Dexter hesitated for a moment and then pushed himself into a kiss, he always kissed more shyly than I did.

"My turn now?"

“I don’t know, is it?” Foster slid his fingers gently inside Dexter, he moaned a little and arched his spine, wanting to be taken. “You ready?"

“I’m ready to be fucked. Please. Please.”

Foster licked his tongue up Dexter's throat, he nipped delicately along his jawbone, enjoying the way it made him squirm. Dexter was gasping, little whimpering cries, trying to force his way further down onto Foster’s fingers.

“Foster, stop teasing me, please, I want it.”

“What do you want?”

“You inside me, I want you to fuck me. Please Foster, please.”

“You sure that’s what you want?” Foster teased.

“Yes. That’s what I want, that’s all I want. Please.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“If you don’t want me stop tormenting me.” Dexter stopped squirming suddenly, he was on the verge of tears.

“I want you. Just because I enjoy having such a sexy man begging me to fuck him, doesn’t mean I don’t want him. The opposite in fact, it’s insanely good for my ego. Is Gabriel gone?” Foster kissed him tenderly, worrying a little about his mental state (I would be too).

“Yeah, he’s gone. He knows I like it rough. Don’t tease me any more, I want you, please…”

Foster pulled his fingers clear, and coated his cock with lube. Dexter would let him fuck him dry if he wanted. As long as you avoided certain things Dexter was prepared to take a surprising amount of damage. He enjoyed a surprising amount of damage.

He pushed against Dexter's sphincter, it took a bit of force to get past. Dexter wailed and pushed down against him. Foster gripped his pelvis and yanked him into his crotch, hard. Dexter opened up, taking his cock whole in one movement.

"OW! That hurts!" I screamed in pain.

"Gabriel, either fuck off or quit complaining!" Dexter shouted back.

“I thought you said he was gone.” Foster said, nipping Dexter's collarbone gently with his teeth, trying to hide his shock at Dexter's outburst.

“He is now…” Dexter let his head loll, offering his throat for more bites, a lot happier now that he was full. He started to writhe a little on Foster's erection, grinding his own cock against Foster's belly.

Dexter smiled, making Foster feel warm inside, it always made him happy to see my shy smile. Foster started to ease out of Dexter's body, watching his face carefully. Dexter flinched a little, but when Foster tried to keep the stroke slow he growled and jabbed Foster's back. Foster yelped and bucked, slamming into him full force. Dexter cried out with satisfaction, tried to work his way further down onto Foster's cock.

"I’m not him; don’t treat me like a china doll. You know what I like. You said I could have whatever I wanted."

Foster bit him, a hard bite to the chest, above his left nipple. It was savage enough to draw blood. Dexter moaned soundlessly.

"YES."

Foster sucked the flesh, bursting capillaries beneath the skin, leaving a dark red patch over an inch across. Dexter loved to be bruised and marked, feel possessed and be left with a physical reminder of that possession. He’s so unlike me, we're like Jekyll and Hyde. He wailed and wrapped his arms around Foster's shoulders, arching his back.

"YES, I want. Fuck me hard, make me feel it. Please. Please. Please."

Foster grabbed his hips and slammed into him, running gentle bites up that long pale throat. He pulled completely out and forced himself in again. Dexter crooned and mewled, hungering for the sensation. Wrapping his legs around Foster's bucking ass, he tried to position himself so Foster could get deeper, fuck him harder, more completely. Foster got a rhythm going and Dexter clung to him, arching and gasping.

When Foster was doing this Dexter could forget the world, forget the mess he’d put himself in, forget me. Forget everything except the fact that Foster wanted him. Foster liked him enough to do this to him. He was good enough for something; he didn’t have to be more. Somebody other than me gave a shit. He pushed the thought away and concentrated on the sensation of the cock moving inside him, the pain had lessened. Now it was just the slow burn, it felt so good, so right, so satisfying.

Foster filled him, stretched him, gripped his hips hard and plunged into him. The strength of it sent shockwaves through Dexter's pelvis and up his spine, forcing his head to fall back. He felt his neck and collarbone being attacked, Foster bit him hard enough to break the skin again, the pain lanced through him, made him feel alive.

"Want you. Want harder. Want deeper. Want more." Dexter chanted.

Foster kissed him, deep possessive kisses. “Why would you ever think I’d stop loving you?” He gasped the words between thrusts, biting and nuzzling Dexter's throat and mouth. Dexter let his head fall to one side, wouldn’t meet his eyes. Foster snarled at him and plunged in deeper somehow, “I want you, you’re mine, don’t ever forget that.”

Dexter's breath caught in his throat with each pounding blow. “Look at me,” Foster commanded. Dexter obeyed, his eyes half closed. Foster kissed him again, sucking his tongue into his mouth. He moaned and reciprocated the kiss, twisting his fingers into Foster's hair.

Foster kissed his throat, nuzzling roughly, the way Dexter liked it. Dexter started to tighten his sphincter around Foster's cock on every retreat. Foster mewled involuntarily with each tug, keeping the rhythm steady so they stayed in sync. He kissed his Dexter again; demanding and possessive, grazing his teeth against lips. He could feel Dexter's strength pushing against his backside, forcing him to buck harder, it only added to the pleasure building inside them.

“Want you need you love you,” Foster whispered. “My Dexter mine mine mine.” He slammed harder, knowing he was bruising and hurting and trying to hold back but not succeeding. This was what his Dexter wanted, screamed for, hungered for. Dexter clutched at him desperately, needing just a little more, a little more. Foster rammed into him, he was close, so close. He assaulted Dexter's mouth again, biting and sucking, slid his hand between them and stroked his cock. The sudden gentle friction pushed Dexter over the edge, he bucked violently, the explosion ripping through him, screaming into Foster’s mouth. Foster felt Dexter's sphincter tighten around his cock, managed a few more plunges into the heat of Dexter's body, then the sensation overtook him. The orgasm tore a ragged cry from him, soft waves of pleasure ripping through him, tingling along his limbs. He trembled with satisfied lust, deep warm shudders that left him heaving for breath. Different from me, but just as good.

"How could I ever not want you?"

Dexter clung to him, still shaking. Foster was still inside him and it felt so good, he wished they could stay like this forever. Foster nibbled at his throat, triggering aftershocks that made Dexter gasp and squirm. Dexter linked his ankles behind Foster's back, wondering what the other would do if he refused to let go, if he made him stay like this. It was almost more than he could stand when Foster moved away gently.

“Dexter, you going to let me out?”

Dexter thought about arguing, being aggressive, but it had only got him into trouble in the past. He’d already been demanding, he didn’t want to risk annoying him. Regretfully he released his hold. Foster saw the emotion and reacted to it, he pulled his cock clear of Dexter's body but then sprawled on top of him possessively. Tenderly he started to kiss, keeping it gentle but hungry.

“How was it for you?” he whispered softly, “Did I do okay? Is there anything else you want? Tell me what you want.”

"Just hold me, please. I want to feel wanted." Dexter whimpered.

“You’re always wanted.” Foster licked along his collarbone; there was a brief sting as his tongue ran over the bites he’d inflicted.

"Are you going to fuck me again?" He sounded hopeful.

Foster buried his smirk in Dexter's throat. “You are going to be the death of me you insatiable hussy. Here lies Foster, he died young but very happy, struck down by terminal exhaustion.” He nuzzled gently along Dexter's jawbone, leaving tiny kisses behind at random intervals. “I think I’m going to need to rest for awhile.”

Dexter grumbled in disappointment, making Foster smile. “Can I get cleaned up then?” Dexter asked quietly, it was Foster's turn to sigh with disappointment. He wanted to cuddle, but the longer they laid in their mess the twitchier and more uncomfortable Dexter got. Although he wouldn’t actually move without Foster's permission, it was better to let him wash up, feel clean again.

“Okay, go on.” Foster slapped Dexter across the ass as he climbed out of bed. Dexter squeaked and jumped, gave him a disapproving look. Foster growled and grabbed at him, chased him into the bathroom. He was surprised to hear Dexter actually giggle as he wrestled him into the tub.

"I thought you were tired?"

“I told you, you’re never gonna get away.” Foster turned the shower on and yelped in surprise, it was freezing. Dexter gasped in shock as the water hit him.

"What’s with the glacier water?"

Foster scrabbled with the controls, nearly scalded them, froze them again, then gave it up. He grabbed the soap in one hand, a protesting Dexter in the other and soaped him up quickly, then himself. Dexter moaned at the touch, making Foster all the more frustrated at the shower’s awkwardness. He washed them both down quickly with cold water, Dexter making inarticulate noises of complaint. “Need to get warmed up now.” Foster kissed him savagely, dragging him back out of the tub.

“I can do that.” Dexter pushed Foster against the wall and started to move his mouth down the smaller man’s torso, kissing, licking. It felt good to make Foster moan and writhe. He dropped to his knees and rested his face against Foster’s cock,

"You really want me?"

“Yes.” It was just a whisper, but it formed a lump in Dexter's throat. He wanted to make Foster happy, keep him satisfied, keep him from leaving. He wouldn’t leave if Dexter did what he wanted, surely. Foster stroked his hair, tenderly, and Dexter hated himself for flinching. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Foster whispered, he almost pushed Dexter away.

Dexter looked up at the the man for permission. Foster smiled at him, a dirty smile, loving, hungry. Dexter nuzzled his cock, thoughtfully, trying to decide exactly what he needed to get him hard again. A long lick made Foster gasp and squirm a little, it was followed by the sensation of a careful tongue exploring his groin, tracing the veins of his thighs, then moving up to lap at his testicles. The sensation ripped noises from him, he cried out when he felt himself being engulfed by Dexter's warm mouth. He moved his head slowly, alternately sucking and releasing. He was hard as a rock again already. Dexter got a little nervous and worried for a second. Foster stroked Dexter's hair, tenderly.

Dexter felt Foster's hands in his hair and tried to scream, he yanked himself clear of Foster's body and huddled on the floor.

"I can’t do anything right, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…" He fought when Foster grabbed him, hauled him to his feet, and led him to the living room.

“You,” Foster whispered in his ear, “Sit there.” He pushed Dexter on the chair. “I’m going to get you a warm drink so you can calm down some. Then I’m going to throw you in bed. Then I’m going to fuck you until you scream for mercy. Then I’m going to get my breath back. Then I’m going to fuck you some more. And there is nothing you can do to stop me.” Foster straddled him, kissed him hard, pulled his head back by a handful of hair and assaulted his throat. Then disappeared into the kitchen.

"You okay?" I asked Dexter.

"I think so. Just stay here with me, please?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

I did my best to comfort. It wasn’t the same as being held by someone, and I'm not the gentlest of souls, but it had been sufficient before, it would be now. He relaxed into the familiar caress, closing his eyes and biting his lower lip.

“Come on.” Foster prowled out of the kitchen, grabbed Dexter up into his arms and dragged him into the bedroom.

“I thought you were making me a drink?”

“You’re too irresistible, I can’t help myself,” Foster mock-growled and leapt onto the bed, we hit the mattress with a thud and nearly bounced off. “And I think I owe the pair of you a severe tickling. And if one of you hides the other gets a double helping."

“You wouldn’t.” We said together.

Seductively he slid his fingers up our flanks, then attacked, tickling.

“No!NonononononononohowdareyouohmygodfuckstopitaaarghI’llkillyou!”

Foster grinned, “No you won’t, you love it really.” He slid down a little and ran his tongue up the middle of Dexter's belly. The snarl of denial was lost in a soft cry of want. Foster upped the ante and pushed his face into the warm flesh. He licked and nuzzled, felt the body beneath him start to wrap around him. Thighs pressed around his chest, spine curved to cup him, large sensitive hands slid behind his head. Foster took the opportunity to force his arms under Dexter's back, pull him in closer.

"That’s so nice…"

"Why do I even like that?"

"Go away...it's my turn."

"He said he'd tickle you if I left."

"He didn't mean it."

Foster pulled his face away and looked up at us, he waited until Dexter realised he’d stopped and opened his eyes. “I did mean it,” he whispered. Dexter's features clouded again with hurt and anger. “This is for both of you to share. Dexter gets what he wants. Whatever he wants, I’ll do it. And Gabriel has to put up with being sore and bruised and needing to recover before I can touch him…Then in future we talk things like this through as if we’re all sensible and reasonably sane adults, instead of sulking like little kids. Deal?”

"Reasonably sane? Have you even met Dexter?" I said.

"Whatever I want?" Dexter asked.

Foster hid his laugh in Dexter's stomach. He attacked again, forcing his tongue into our belly button, licking us hard. We both squeaked together and our shared body writhed beneath him. Dexter tasted homely, like soap and freshly scrubbed skin.

“What are you going to do to us?” Dexter whispered softly, he still had his eyes shut, concentrating on the sensations chasing through his core. I waited quietly for the answer. Foster got up and sprinted for the kitchen.

"Where are you going?"

"Why are you going?"

"What did I do wrong?"

"I didn’t do anything."

"I didn’t."

"Did you do something?"

"No, did you?"

"You must have done something!" We screamed at each other.

“Calm down I’m back,” Foster slammed us back into the bed, pushing us roughly into the pillows. There was a brief twist to Dexter's face, a certain weight added to his expression as I nearly came to the surface. Then Dexter shoved me to the back again. Foster pounced on top of him, pinning him. “You’re not allowed to go anywhere, I told you. I want you, I’m having you, you’re mine. And I’m not letting you leave until you’ve been well and truly fucked, Dexter.”

"You can’t keep me here; you’re not strong enough."

"He’s not talking to you; he’s talking to me."

"He can’t talk to you like that."

"He can talk to me any way I want him to."

"You like being bullied?"

"I like being wanted…"

Foster took the argument as an opportunity to slip an ice-cube into his mouth.

We were still squabbling when he pulled the head of Dexter's cock into his mouth.

"OH FUCK. What the?" Dexter said.

"Yessss…" I liked that idea.

"S’cold."

"S’nice."

Foster grinned to himself and took more of our erection, sucking gently. Dexter's thighs clamped around his head and he had to fight to move our legs under his arms. He paused and pulled away, fumbling in the bedside drawer

"Don’t stop, please don’t stop." Dexter whined.

“Not stopping, getting lube.” Foster's speech was muffled by the ice-cube.

"Don’t need that." Dexter said.

"Yes, he does." I said, I was the one who would barely be able to walk after this.

"Sissy."

"WHAT DID YOU JUST CAL-GAAAHHH OH OH OH." I yelped at the sudden pressure.

Foster interrupted us by deep throating Dexter. He was accustomed to me being in charge, with Dexter as a silent partner. The constant bickering of both of us at once was starting to distract him.

Foster pulled away a little and tongued the ice-cube around the head of Dexter's cock, enjoying the way the sensation of cold made Dexter moan and buck his hips. Dexter was clinging desperately to the metal bars of the already bent headboard; Foster took the opportunity to run cool fingers up his belly. He waited until Dexter started to come around a little, then attacked him again.

"OH oh oh yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes."

Foster lubed up his fingers and started to push his fingers gently into Dexter's ass. Dexter shoved down quickly, demanding the whole,

"OW." I said in pain.

"Shut up."

"Oh, Oh, Oh."

Foster stifled a snicker and bobbed again, determined to silence us both. He hummed softly, making us writhe. Our fingers buried in Foster's hair and the long legs circling his chest tightened, holding him in place. Dexter whimpered in disappointment as Foster pulled his fingers clear, then crooned with pleasure when he worked them back in.

Foster swallowed around Dexter's cock head, reducing his victim to a shivering wreck. It left us gasping for breath, whimpering and whining, so he did it again. And again. And again. We came in a screaming burst, hips bucking spasmodically. Foster didn’t let us relax, licked a still cold tongue across our stomach, making us writhe and cry. He scissored the fingers still inside our body, licked our belly, gently bit our inner thigh. We gasped desperately, struggling to breathe, to control the spasms being forced from us. Inside our head I was begging for it to stop, and whimpering no, no, no every time it did. Eventually Foster let us be, let us recover. It was a relief, slightly disappointing, but a relief.

Dexter had shoved me to the back again.

"Oh… So good… Mmmmmmmmmm…" Dexter said, pleased with himself.

“Dexter, don’t take this the wrong way but you and Gabriel are the most fucked up person I have ever met in my life, do you know that?” Dexter stiffened again, not sure what the correct response was to that statement. “I wouldn’t change you for the world though.” Foster rolled, placing Dexter on top but still holding him, refusing to release. He knew he was lost, so he attacked his throat again, distracting him. “I love you, I don’t care whether you believe me or not, I know it’s true.” Dexter whimpered as Foster dug his fingers into his short dark hair, “Never gonna let you get away.”

Foster kissed him again roughly, ran scratching fingers down his back. Dexter keened with pleasure, arched his back. Dexter's head smacked against the corner of the headboard of the bed with a resounding whack and an OW!

“Shit,” Foster breathed, “Are you okay?”

“Don’t stop,” Dexter whimpered. “Just don’t stop.”

“You are fucking insatiable you know that?” Foster stared at him worriedly.

To his surprise Dexter wrapped his arms around Foster's shoulders, burying his face in his hair. Clinging. Wanting. Needy. Hungry.

Dexter's dark eyes blew wide open staring directly into Foster's.

“Are you still you?” Dexter scrabbled onto his feet, huddling into the corner farthest away from him.

“What?”

He looked Foster over. Determining wether or not it truly was him. After he was 100% positive it was Foster he hopped back on the bed beside him.

“Why have you stopped?” Dexter quirked his eyebrows mischievously. “I think I might still be able to walk away from this…”

“Oh, it is on now.” Foster attacked his mouth. He sucked Dexter's lower lip, bit it gently. Dexter mewled and pushed against him, trying to get him start moving his hips again. Foster kept still, teasing, tormenting. It took all of a minute before Dexter started scratching and struggling, desperate for movement. Grinning to himself Foster gave him what he needed, ramming his cock into that sweet warm heat. He lifted Dexter up, letting him slide down the full length of his erection, did it repeatedly. “Squeeze me,” he whispered. Dexter obeyed, no argument, no question, tightening around Foster every time he pulled out, releasing as he pushed in. His body pulled at Foster, yanking sensation out of him. He was close again already, he could barely believe it. The pleasure built in waves, crashing against his insides, emphasised by every little gasp and cry he ripped from Dexter's throat. Abruptly he changed angle, searching, knew he’d found what he needed when Dexter cried out. He thrust again, making him wail. He yanked Dexter down into his crotch, spearing him roughly. Dexter cried out, the feeling tearing through him. He shivered uncontrollably, spasms of pleasure rebounding inside him and setting off new waves. Foster slammed into him again, triggering off another explosion, Foster came in a shivering burst, sensation overloading him, making his legs turn to jelly.

They slid into the sheets. Dexter made a complaining noise at the sticky mess. “Did you ever stop to think that I might feel unwanted,” Foster growled at him.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because every time we have sex you can’t wait to get rid of the evidence.”

"I...I...I didn’t think about it like that… I’m sorry, I di…"

“See, not fun having someone go into rejection melt-down is it?” Foster interrupted. He hated making Dexter feel bad, but right now he really needed to just hold him and recover, rather than brave the freezing water again, change the sheets, then finally get to hold him and recover. He pulled free of Dexter's body and gathered up, cradling him.

"I’m sorry."

“Dexter. Shut up and cuddle me.”

"Okay."

“And stop sounding so meek. I know damn well you’re a violent little hussy. I just want to lie here for a few hours, get my breath back.”

Dexter lay still, listening to Foster's heartbeat. He felt dirty, and a little used. But now that he knew Foster didn’t like him rushing off to clean up he was too scared to go do it. He pushed his nose into Foster's chest and breathed in his scent, it was soothing, safe. Do I really want to get that off me? he wondered timidly. He decided to try and last as long as he could, it wasn’t as if he wanted to scrub Foster off. It was just the smell of sex that disturbed him, brought back bad memories. A warm hand stroked his back, carefully avoiding the scar next to his spine. Dexter started to relax a little, he burrowed deeper into the embrace, breathed deeper, reminding himself that this was Foster. Foster who wanted him, Foster who knew not to ask hurtful questions, Foster who cared what he liked and disliked. Who’d found out what frightened him so he could avoid it, not use it.

"Love you." He whispered softly into Foster's ear.

“Love you too,” Foster whispered, half asleep. He slid his fingers into the hair at the nape of Dexter's neck, started to stroke softly. It was so soothing that Dexter dozed, happy and content, pressed into his lover’s body...

I woke to find myself cradled in Foster's arms, my head laid on his chest. Foster was fast asleep, his heartbeat a slow, steady thunder in my ear. I pulled myself up, shocked. Foster murmured softly and clutched with his hands, searching for the warm body that had just left him. The sight made my chest hurt a little. I got out of the bed, wanting to get away from the image and strange feelings, and nearly stumbled.

"Ow. Fuck, Dexter what did you do?" There was no answer from the exhausted little bitch.

I hobbled for the bathroom, wincing with every step. Dexter usually had the decency to patch up any damage before retreating. He must still be pissed at me, I thought grimly.

I padded carefully and quietly into the bathroom and found some tissue. Dampening it I wiped the streaks of blood from the inside of my leg.

"My ass feels like a windsock," I muttered to my absent partner-in-crime, "And I don’t even want to know what happened to our head. Not to mention the bed looks like a fucking crime scene." I examined my bruises thoughtfully. “I’ve had less injuries when I've jumped of a building, you sick little masochist freak,” I whispered to my other self.

I leaned against the sink for support and slowly started to put myself back together. It was slow, exhausting work and the cold porcelain was soothing against my bare skin.

Feeling shaky but a little better I was struck suddenly by a feeling of being watched. "Dexter? That you?" He murmured dreamily that it wasn’t and went back to sleep. I growled to myself and stalked out of the bathroom, but there was no heartbeat in the apartment other than myself and Foster. Confused I realised the sensation of being watched had ceased. It started again when I stepped backwards. That was odd, there was definitely no one in the bathroom. Shaking my head at my own paranoia I went to see if there was anything to eat. I needed protein and carbs to make up for those I'd just used. I found a glass eventually and filled it with milk, there were cookies in a jar so I took a couple.

I was finishing the last of my milk when I heard Foster moan, and it sounded like someone else’s name. In my rage I forgot my exhaustion and stormed into the bedroom. Foster was curled in a fetal ball, whimpering in his sleep.

“Trevor.”

"What? Your brother? Why are you dreaming about your brother?"

“Get away, get away, don’t come near me, nooo.” Foster squirmed, his hands started balling into fists. Beautiful but deadly. “Don’t come near me,” he pleaded.

A nightmare. Foster began to fight me, screaming in his sleep.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Foster, snap out of it.” I slapped him, hard. There was a moment of disorientated struggle before Foster woke and stared at him.

“Gabriel?” He sounded surprised, as if I was intruding. The shock in his voice was not lost on me.

“Who were you expecting?” I growled angrily.

“Oh Jesus.” Foster ripped his hands clear of mine and wrapped himself around my torso, clinging desperately, shuddering and sobbing.

I stared down at him, completely out of my area of expertise. Neither I nor Dexter have ever found ourselves in this situation before, except with each other, and that was different. It was easy to tell what someone needed when they were using the same nerve centre. I didn’t have the first clue what to do.

"What do I do?" I mentally nudged the Dexter as hard as I could.

"Leave me alone I’m tired."

"Foster’s freaking out what the hell do I do?"

That was enough to rouse Dexter. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing. He had a nightmare. Thank you for assuming it’s my fault. I appreciate your vote of confidence."

Dexter diplomatically decided against responding to that. "I don’t know, rub his back maybe, like you do me." I ran my fingers down Foster's spine. "No, with your hand doofus, it feels better." I snarled at him, I was not in the mood for trading insults. Dexter retreated again, but stayed awake, just in case.

I ran a trembling hand down Foster's back, as gently as I could. Then brought it up again, slid it into his hair before stroking back down. I wrapped my other arm around the smaller body, protectively. Somehow it was easier to be held like this, even though I still liked the sensation of being cuddled I didn’t feel half as pathetic when I was being the protective one.

“Are you two quite finished?” Foster asked in a choked voice, face buried in the rough skin of my chest.

“We’re talking about you, not to you.” I kissed his hair softly.

Foster chuckled fitfully between heaving breaths. He pulled me into the bed and crawled on top, still shaking. Quietly he buried his face back into my chest and clung to me, pushing the memory of the dream away and concentrating on the scent and feel of the present. I was a little confused, but kept stroking and touching, sticking to what worked. Eventually Foster calmed down completely.

“You okay?” I asked softly, there was no answer. I tried to move and was growled at, Foster pinned me down with his weight. I struggled for a moment before I realized he had fallen back asleep. "What now?" I asked Dexter. There was no answer, Dexter had dozed off too. Well that’s just perfect. I considered my predicament; I really didn’t want to wake Foster. But I couldn’t stay here. Maybe just a little longer. I thought quietly. I’m staying because he needs it, not because I want to. I’m just looking out for him; it’s no big deal. I’m not staying because I like it and he feels so good pressed against me. I’m not staying because I want to get as much of this as I can while nobody can see how much I crave it. I don’t need this, I can leave any time I want…

I was still rationalising the decision when the exhaustion of everything caught up with me. In a warm tangle of sticky sheets and tired limbs, two bodies and three people slept peacefully, probably looking a lot more angelic than we really deserved to.


Gabriel.