Work Text:
There is a funny feeling you get when your eyes are so tired that spots in your vision start to blur, but not in an annoying way, more in a comforting sleepy way that buzzed under the fairy lights hung around the walls. Music played in the background, soft and instrumental sounding like classical music but no one cares to consider exactly what genre it was. Parted lips that wouldn’t dare to close or widen anymore than they already have and half-lidded gazes were being worn by both the boys in the room.
Remy wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, as he often didn’t when he was alone or with his boyfriend, Roman, so said boy was able to look into his brown irises freely. That was until Remy dived in for another slow but long kiss, complete with eyes fluttering completely close and small sounds coming from both like pleased moans but softer, more innocent.
Roman’s hands tangled in Remy’s hair and he tried to focus on the feeling of Remy straddling his waist as he leaned back against the headboard. They’d been doing this for hours, staying in tired silence only interrupted by kisses. It was unusual since the two were about the loudest boys known to mankind and were even louder whenever they were with each other, but tonight was different.
For one it was about two in the morning and Remy had come over to Roman’s apartment like he usually did when he couldn’t sleep—which was a lot of the time. And when Roman said he couldn’t either they ended up here. But neither had spoken of why they couldn’t sleep yet, just jumping right into kissing each other passionately because heaven knows they both needed it with how clingy they both were.
Roman tilted his head as Remy slid his tongue into his mouth, growling a bit in the back of his throat and then breathing heavily as Remy pulled away. They hadn’t spoke in hours but suddenly Remy pursed his swollen lips and then opened his mouth.
“Are you tired yet, babe?” he asked quietly and Roman shrugged. He suddenly remembered why he couldn’t sleep in the first place and shook his head, slow at first until he was shaking it so hard he became dizzy.
“Just please keep kissing me. I-“
“You need a distraction, huh, girl?”
Roman whimpered.
“Honey, I love you but… whenever you need a distraction I know it just means you have something on your mind that you probably need’a talk to me about so,” Remy sighed and moved over so that he was curled up to Roman’s right side, stretching out his sore legs and taking Roman’s hand in his, “spill the beans, Roro.”
Roman huffed silently through his nose. His eyes shifted down to where their hands were connected and then up at the ceiling and then down at again at his lap where Remy sat just a few seconds before. A feeling of ugly, disgusting dread filled his stomach and he just wanted to vomit it out, but he forced down a swallow and began to talk.
“I miss my parents, Remy. A lot.” Remy sighed. Roman’s parents had died when he was young. He grew up under the care of his aunts and uncles and some of his grandparents but it was never enough. No amount of aunts could make up for your one and only mother and no amount of grandfathers could make up for your one and only father. And frankly it wasn’t their fault that some drunk teen had crashed into them. It wasn’t their fault that it was so dark out they couldn’t even see the car coming. It wasn’t their fault they died.
But suddenly when they died it all seemed to be Roman’s fault since he was the only one alive that had lived so close to them before and had felt so much guilt and grief for it. He slipped into a horrible mental state then that plagued him for the rest of his childhood and so far his teenage life too and was diagnosed with depersonalization disorder. Roman felt like he was dreaming for most of the time, he felt reality wasn’t real, and he didn’t know how to wake up.
But Remy helped him. Remy was so alive, so wild and fun, just like he was when he was feeling more himself. Remy helped bring out that part of him. But it was times like this when Roman couldn’t believe that any of it could be real.
“What if it is all a dream, Rem?” Roman asked softly.
“Ro-“
“Not like me,” Roman said with a roll of his eyes. “I mean what if life is just an illusion? What if it’s all fake? What if I’m just making this all up? What if I’m not even real?”
“Okay, babe, this existential crisis is making my head hurt. You’ve been hanging around Virgil too much,” Remy said, placing a sloppy kiss on Roman’s cheek which Roman responded to with a tender kiss on Remy’s forehead.
“But, Remy,” Roman pleaded afterwards, gripping onto both of his boyfriend’s hands. “What if you’re just a dream?” Roman was crying now, weary with sleepiness and emotion. “What if this is all a big dream and you fade away and I lose you? Oh my god-“
“Hey hey hey,” Remy shushed him, shifting so he could cradle Roman’s weeping face in his hands. Remy loved Roman at any given moment but he especially loved him in moments like these. Not because he was in pain, but because he was so vulnerable. He wasn’t hiding behind layers of false confidence. He was simply a boy with a red face sticky with streams of salty wet tears and a pull-over wrinkling around the sleeves because it was so baggy and puffy lips that Remy couldn’t help but drag a kiss or two more against.
“Look at me,” Remy said eventually as Roman’s sobbing slowed. He held onto Roman’s shoulders and looked him the eyes… his red, big eyes that held so much sorrow in them when the sparks of life had left them in the night. “I’m not going anywhere, babe. I’m not a dream. Remy Bean is not a dream. That rhymes, eh? Repeat that for me a few times, hun.”
“Remy Bean is not a dream,” Roman giggled. He always loved saying his boyfriend’s full name, it was so adorable and it cheered him up just hearing it. “Remy Bean is not a dream. Remy Bean is not a dream.”
“There ya go, baby,” Remy cooed, fiddling with Roman’s shirt collar. “See? I’m not a dream which means I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, loser, for forever.”
Roman grinned widely at that and embraced his boyfriend tightly, crying a bit into his shoulders. “Well, Rem, you may not be a dream but you sure look like you came out of one of mine.”
“Is that a pick-up line I sense, mister?” Remy teased, jabbing Roman’s stomach.
“Of course,” Roman replied cockily, sticking out his tongue at Remy until the other began tickling his sides until he was too busy trying to squirm away from the touch to even think another negative thought that night.