Chapter Text
It was only going to be a week without Win. Team could handle that.
He’d told him as much when Win had hovered apprehensively by Team’s door with his luggage, looking like he’d drop everything and cancel the vacation with his friends if Team only said the word. Normally, if they had to separate for even half a day, Win would tease him relentlessly about how much Team was going to miss him – at least until Team shoved him away by his face. Now that it really matters, it seems like Team has severely underestimated Win’s protective nature.
Win would watch the ground beneath his feet if it meant that Team could safely look up at the stars.
“You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep frowning, Hia.”
When Win’s worried expression doesn’t change, Team sighs.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve managed to survive 18 years without you sleeping beside me, a week won’t make a difference, right?”
The crease between Win’s eyebrows deepens. Team steps forward to massage his forefinger into it until it smooths out.
Win gently removes Team’s hand but doesn’t let go. “Promise me you’ll go to my room if you need to. You don’t have to force yourself to stay here if you can’t sleep.” When Team’s eyes dart away guiltily, Win gives him a knowing look. “You don’t have to prove anything to yourself. If you need to go there, promise me you will.”
Win holds his key out. Team concedes with a nod and only a minor grumble. Satisfied, Win looks a lot brighter as he kisses Team goodbye and ruffles his hair as a final farewell.
As Win disappears down the corridor, he turns to holler, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
Team leans out the doorway. “There is literally nothing you wouldn’t do!”
Win’s answering laugh follows him as he shuts the door.
The room feels uncomfortably silent without Win’s usual bluster. Team busies himself with tidying up as a distraction, until he hears the faint sound of a car pulling up outside.
Cautiously, he moves towards the window and peers down into the parking lot in an attempt to stay mostly out of sight. He spots Win’s blonde head heaving his suitcase into a waiting car, fist bumping the driver through the window. A few of his other friends call out greetings from the back.
Through what can only be described as some freakish sixth sense that Win has acquired when it comes to Team, Win looks directly up at the window and locks eyes with him. Team is about to jump back from view when Win holds his pointer finger up in the universal sign for ‘hold on one second’.
Team watches, confused, as Win frowns and begins to pat down his jeans’ pockets like he’s looking for something, rummaging down into the bottom but coming up empty. When he moves on to his jacket pockets, Team leans forward with one hand on the glass in anticipation.
Win plunges his hand deep into his jacket pocket, and pulls out a finger heart pointed right at Team.
Team sincerely hopes he can see him scowling from his vantage point. Win grins and waves at him one last time before getting into the car. Despite his earlier claims, Team stays at the window until the car vanishes from sight.
It’s barely been 5 minutes before Team’s phone vibrates with a message from Win. He’s attached a picture of Team that one of his friends must have taken from the ground, hand pressed dramatically against the window as he stares out.
The accompanying message reads:
“When will my husband return from war?”
Team almost launches his phone across the room.
Asshole, Team replies.
I’ll miss you too <3, Win responds, Call me if you need me.
*
Team tosses and turns until midnight before he admits defeat and makes his way to Win’s room. He flops down onto his boyfriend’s sheets and inhales the comforting scent of laundry detergent and Win’s shampoo. The room is cool and dark, and Team hunkers down underneath the duvet to text Win.
Hia, are you awake?
Win’s reply is immediate. I’m awake, we’ve just got settled at the hotel. Everybody else is asleep from the long drive. Are you in my room?
Yes, Team responds. It’s helping.
But you still can’t sleep?
Team stares at the screen, wondering how best to respond. He doesn’t want to worry Win unnecessarily if he can help it.
Win takes his silence as confirmation. Go to my wardrobe. I left something there for you just in case.
Team frowns and types, What?
Stop frowning and trust me. In the bottom of the wardrobe there’s a box that you need to open.
Team flicks on the bedside lamp and goes to the wardrobe. At the bottom, tucked behind Win’s shoes, is a nondescript white box. Team pulls it out and settles cross legged on the carpet. He flips it open to examine the contents and promptly feels a wave of affection so strong it almost knocks the breath right out of him.
Months ago, near the beginning, after Team had crawled into Win’s bed in the aftermath of a nightmare, he’d asked if there was anything that could help prevent them, or at the very least make it easier for him to fall back to sleep.
“Warmth,” Team had replied, looking adorably sleepy wrapped in the duvet like a sushi roll. “Warmth and light. The dreams can vary, but at their core they’re always dark, cold, and wet. Anything that counteracts that usually helps.”
Win had looked thoughtful, then slipped out of bed to turn down the air conditioning. On his way back, he flicked on the small reading lamp perched on his desk. He angled the lamp against the wall so that the light illuminated the corner of the room, but was far enough away that it wouldn’t prevent them from falling asleep.
Win slipped back under the duvet, tucking it back firmly around Team, before lying back on his side. He pillowed his head on one bicep to look at him.
“Is there anything else?”
Team avoided eye contact. He was already intruding too much onto Win as it is - the last thing he needed was to be burdened even further.
Win bent to catch his eye, nothing but sincere concern in his gaze. “Team?”
Team swallowed. “Loneliness. In the dreams, I’m always completely alone.”
In the silence of the night between them, Win’s thumb had come up to softly trace Team’s cheekbone. After Team’s eyes fluttered shut, Win had pulled him in until Team could wrap his arms around his back, burying his face into the crook of his neck.
Not anymore.
The words went unspoken in the stillness between them.
Win is Team’s own personal dream catcher. His presence alone pulls haunting dreams from Team’s mind, tangles them up in the warmth of his smile and banishes them in the light of his eyes. In the absence of this, Win had done the next best thing.
The first item is a hot water bottle. When Team lifts it out, his fingers sink into the plush light blue cover made from what must be the softest material on the planet. He runs his thumb over the shark insignia embroidered on the front.
There is a bright yellow sticky note attached. Win’s familiar curvy writing makes him smile.
‘To keep you warm.’
Team sets the water bottle aside and reaches back into the box. The second item is a small slim lava lamp that Team carefully removes. Once plugged in on the bedside table, the orange liquid collected at the bottom begins to glow and bubble slowly upward. The light generated is gentler than the bedside lamps, the soothing quality of the orange reminding Team of peaceful sunsets at the beach. It is, essentially, a night light. Team places the note safely back into the box.
‘To light up the dark.’
The third item Team is unable to identify until he unfolds it all the way. The soft grey material reveals itself to be Win’s favourite lounge t-shirt, well-loved and washed almost threadbare with use. As Team quickly swaps his current shirt, he lifts the collar to inhale the familiar comforting scent. Win must have taken the extra step to spritz a light coating of his fragrance onto it, which Team is infinitely grateful for. It almost feels like Win is completely surrounding him. He peels the sticky note off the sleeve to put with the others.
‘To hold you while I can’t.’
The last item truly takes Team’s breath away. At the bottom of the box lies the most beautiful, intricately made dream catcher Team has ever seen. The largest circle at the top is no bigger than his hand, the colour a deep comforting blue. The netting in the middle is woven exquisitely into a symmetrical flower. There are four smaller circles attached, all with the same netting inside, and the soft feathers that adorn the entire thing fade from deep blue to a light turquoise.
‘To keep you safe until I get back.’
Team is so distracted with the swell of emotion in his chest that he barely hears his phone buzzing.
Team? Did you open it?
Then, five minutes later, when he received no response.
Is it too much?
Team scrambles to hit the call button on Win’s contact.
“Hia.” Team is embarrassed to hear his voice is a little wet.
“Hi, baby.” Win’s voice is quiet, warm in the silence of his hotel room.
“This is-” Team struggles to find the words, “This is perfect. I don’t know what to say other than – thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Team.”
Team runs his thumb over the soft feathers of the dream catcher. “How long have you been planning this?”
“Since we booked the vacation.”
Team pauses. “That was over a month ago.”
Win hums in response. “I had to work out what I thought would actually be useful for you.” Team takes his phone to the bathroom to fill up the hot water bottle as Win speaks. “The water bottle was easy to find online, but I had to wait a little longer for them to customise the shark. It wasn’t exactly necessary but I couldn’t resist.” Team smiles, tucking the water bottle into bed and moving to switch off the lamp on the bedside table. Alone, the lava lamp throws the room into a muted orange glow. “The lamp is mine from my bedroom at home. I drove down to collect it a week ago.” Win’s voice turns wry. “Transporting that on a motorbike was an interesting experience.”
Team laughs lightly. He hangs up the dream catcher in the bedroom window, where just a couple of hours ago he’d waved goodbye to Win, then crawls into the bed.
“The shirt is self-explanatory. I remembered the time Pharm mentioned that Dean stole his shirts to cuddle with when he went away for the weekend.”
Team grins at the memory. “P’Dean was so embarrassed.”
“I’ve not let him live it down,” Win replies, “But I figured it couldn’t hurt to try it for you, so maybe I should stop the teasing.”
Teams hums in agreement, settling down on his side with the water bottle held to his chest. From this angle, he can see the feathers of the dream catcher gently swaying, illuminated by the dim orange glow of the lamp. He feels warm and sleepy, surrounded by Win’s scent and the tokens of his affection.
Team’s face splits into a yawn. “I think it’s working.”
Win’s tone is fond. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll call you again tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Team mumbles, “Goodnight, Hia.”
“Sweet dreams, Team.”
Team shuts off his phone and settles down into the bed with a sigh. Team wonders if Win knows the true extent of his effect on him. With relatively simple gestures, Win had calmed his mind enough to save him from restless sleep and haunting dreams.
The last thing he sees before he falls asleep is the dream catcher, a silent protector watching over the quiet of the night.