“So aren’t they gone?”
Sebastian still wasn’t meeting his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said again, “because I also haven’t slept alone in weeks.”
“Wait.” Wesley leaned forward. “You think you haven’t had a blood terror because you’ve been sleeping withme?”
Sebastian shrugged jerkily. “I used to break the terrors with something familiar, to remind my blood that the magic is gone and I’m free now. And I—well. I think I always remember I’m free when I have you.”
Wesley’s heart did a funny twist in his chest as the way Sebastian stayed close in his sleep took on new meaning. “Why haven’t you said anything?”
“What was I supposed to say?I’m a mess who might still get magical nightmares, and you have to sleep with me because I think you’re keeping them away?”
Wesley could not let himself have a feeling about that, because then they would come and never stop. “Yes, say that exactly,” he said brusquely. “And I’ll sayall right, duck, I can do that.Problem solved. Why are we having this conversation? Why would you ever risk putting yourself through one of those if I can keep it away?”
“What if Major Langford was watching your door?” Sebastian said heatedly. “I was supposed to risk him finding out all your secrets because I’m too broken to sleep alone? When you don’t even like having me there, and only put up with it for me?”
Wesley drew a sharp breath. And then he said, “Get in the bed.”
“What? Wes—”
“Now.” Wesley grabbed his hand and pulled. Sebastian stumbled to his feet, but Wesley was already tugging him down on the bed. “Move up. Head on the pillow.”
“Wesley—”
“Don’t argue, I am shit at having feelings or knowing the right words to say so just—please. Get in the bed.”
Sebastian furrowed his brow. But he shifted up the mattress as Wesley grabbed the blanket he’d brought, and the blankets off the other bed for good measure.
He turned off the light, and moments later, all of the blankets were piled on top of them as they lay on their sides, facing each other but not touching. The city lights still filtered through the window, just enough to see by. Wesley’s heart was beating uncomfortably hard. This was a new door he was walking through and there was nowhere to hide right now. Sebastian was awake, could see for himself that Wesley was useless at this, didn’t know how to touch a man if they weren’t fucking.
“There’s a difference between not liking something and being too cowardly to admit you like something.” Wesley’s voice was unsteady. “I came up because the bed looked empty without you.”
Christ, he’d gotten everything wrong tonight. Every interaction was like a test he inevitably failed and he couldn’t bear to fail with the person who mattered—
Sebastian moved into Wesley’s arms.
Wesley stilled.
“I’m so glad you came.” Sebastian pressed his face against Wesley’s shoulder, the chill of his skin marked even through Wesley’s silk pajamas. “You’re right, I’m so cold and I hate it.”
Wesley let out a breath. He should have known Sebastian would never make anything a test.
“I know you do.” Wesley’s voice was gruff, his hand finding the soft fabric of Sebastian’s T-shirt, balling it up in clenched fingers and then letting go. “And you need to get it in your head that you don’t need to handle everything alone anymore.”
He was being too sharp again, but Sebastian pressed closer. “Okay,” he said quietly, into Wesley’s pajama shirt.
Wesley’s hand slipped under Sebastian’s T-shirt, over cold skin. “How do I warm you fastest?”
Sebastian rolled over, still under Wesley’s arm, and squirmed backward so that his back was pressed against Wesley’s chest, his hips and arse tight to Wesley’s body as their legs tangled together. He pulled Wesley’s arm more snugly around him, like it was another blanket, and their bodies suddenly aligned like two halves of a locket. “Like this.”
They fit together like puzzle pieces, so perfectly there was no room for Wesley’s doubt. Wesley’s heartbeat was still too fast but it wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. He also should have remembered that not all new doors lead somewhere miserable. New doors had led him here.
Wesley tentatively let his head relax against the pillow, which brought his nose closer to Sebastian’s hair. “Your skin is like ice, I hope you know,” he said, because his thoughts were too raw to voice.
“I know,” said Sebastian, “but I’ll warm up now that I’m with you.”
He sounded so much better than he had, content, maybe even happy, and Wesley felt some of his tension bleeding away. He couldn’t be irreparably fucking up if Sebastian was happy, could he?
Sebastian was tucking his legs under one of Wesley’s. “I know you say you don’t cuddle, but you’re so good at it.”
