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Benny watched Usnavi as he slept, chin propped upon his palm as he rested his elbow on the mattress. Usnavi was a pretty adorable sleeper. He didn’t snore, he kept to his side of the bed (unlike Benny) and he looked so damn peaceful.
The flashing red numbers on Usnavis digital clock read 03:34. He let out a sigh. It wasn’t a strange occurrence for this to happen. Why couldn’t he ever just have a normal sleep and not wake up halfway through? Benny had just woken up and was contemplating on whether to wake up Usnavi or not. On one hand, if he woke him up then Benny would probably be entertained. On the other hand, he didn’t want to disturb Usnavi’s sleep, and he’d probably be annoyed with him if he did. Benny sighed and lay back down, staring up at the ceiling. Without even realising it, he drifted off to sleep.
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“Benny,” a familiar voice hissed. “Benny!” Benny felt someone shake his shoulder. He groaned and opened his eyes, staring up at Usnavi blankly. Sleepers had gathered in the corner of his eyes which Benny groggily rubbed away.
“Sup?”
Usnavi stared down at Benny with an expression that could only be described as a mix of bewilderment and worry. Benny made a face and sat up. “What is it?” He asked. “What’s wrong?”
“You were having a nightmare. Do you not remember?” Usnavi asked back. When Benny shook his head, Usnavi took that as a cue to carry on explaining. “You were mumbling in your sleep, woke me up. Then you started moving around...and then you started panicking and trashing.”
Benny raised an eyebrow. Not only did he never have nightmares, but he also couldn’t remember even having the nightmare. He hadn’t woken up in fear or anything. In fact, he had felt quite peaceful.
“All I remember is waking up in the middle of the night and finding it hard to go back to sleep. That was...” he glanced at the digital clock. “That was two hours ago. Shit...” Now he had a little over an hour to get some sleep, and he doubted he’d be able to fall asleep now.
The birds outside — being the noisy fuckers they were — had took it upon themselves to make sure Benny would have difficulty falling asleep. He could hear the slight hum of the passing trains on the railway and the car engines as they drove past. A glimpse of the sun could be seen through the crack in the blinds. Benny grumbled and threw his head back down.
He looked up at Usnavi. “Navi.” He patted his chest. Usnavi grinned and lay besides Benny before rolling onto his chest. He tangled his legs with his long ones and tucked his head beneath Bennys chin. Benny hummed contented and rested his chin on the others head, running a hand up and down his back in a soothing manner.
They stayed like that for a while with their eyes closed, Bennys hand continuously moving along Usnavis back. The hustle outside became white noise to them. Usnavi felt like he should be reading a book filled with Spanish poems out loud to Benny.
“Octavio Paz,” Usnavi commented idly, turning his head to the side so his voice was more clear and not muffled by the surface of Bennys chest.
Benny strokes back Usnavis hair. “Oh?” He asked. “Whose that?”
“Mexican poet. Died a few years back. I remember Abuela reading out his poems to me as a child, and his names always stuck with me.” He buried his head back into his chest, thinking.
After a moment of peaceful, comfortable silence, Benny talked. “Can you remember one? One of his poems?”
“I don’t think I can, no. I think I remember something about a lámpara — so a lamp...and then something about something being real, but,” he chuckled softly. “It’s been that long. I’ll have to memorise one for you.”
Benny grinned. “I’d very much like that.”