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Stuart laid in the bed, staring over at George, who looked a bit nervous as he glanced around the room. He’d always had a thing with new places, but the older boy had never seen him this nervous before.
“Geo, was it the people?” he whispered, just loud enough so his friend could hear him from the other side of the bed. “Did you not like them? Because we can leave and find somewhere else to stay this weekend if it really bothers you.” George shrugged. “Really. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable at all.”
“S’fine, Stu. I’m just a little worried in this room. It doesn’t feel quite right.” He laid his head back into the pillow and sighed. “I’m sure I’m just overreacting.”
Stuart chuckled. “No, you’re good. If you feel alright, though, I’m gonna get to sleep. M’tired, you know.”
“Oh, by all means, don’t let me stop you, sleepy head.” He smiled jokingly at Stuart, but he couldn’t deny the unrest in the room. He closed his eyes, feeling his friend move around next to him.
“You sure you’re alright?” George hummed. “Well, wake me if you need anything. I’m a light sleeper.”
“I know.” It took about three seconds after Stuart had drifted off for George to, as well, and thank god for that. Because he didn’t like being the only one awake, especially when all he could think about was how creepy this fucking room was.
-
But he woke up what seemed to be two minutes later, his breathing rapid. He tried to turn his head to see the time, but it wouldn’t move, and neither would his hand, trying to come up and brush his hair out of his face. He moved his eyes to see what was keeping his muscles in place, and he was met with a man standing at the end of the bed.
His eyebrows shot up, and he tried desperately to move once again, but nothing happened. Had he been drugged? Who was that at the end of the bed? He tried to open his mouth, say something, but nothing came out, only little whimpers.
And with all the muscle power he could, he was thrashing around on the bed. Wasn’t doing him any good, though, because the man just got closer and closer. Two seconds, and he was already on top of George, and Stuart was starting to stir awake.
“George? You alright?” It took him about three seconds of stretching to look down at the boy and realise he most definitely was not alright. Stuart started to shake him as he trembled, eyes wide open, looking like he wanted to scream. “Hey, George! Hey, what’s wrong! What’s going on?”
Then George shot up in the bed, a scream escaping his lips. He covered his face as more ragged breaths came out. Stuart looked over at him carefully.
“Geo? What’s going on?”
“The man--” He looked back up, and the man was gone. “There was a man, and he kept getting closer, and I didn’t know what to do, because I couldn’t move, and I didn’t want him to hurt us, and--” He cut himself off, hearing how ridiculous it sounded. “I’m so sorry.”
“What? Why are you sorry? Didn’t do anything wrong.” He shrugged. “Do you want to get back to sleep maybe?”
“I don’t… I don’t want him to come back.” Stuart then wrapped his arms around George and pulled him down into the bed.
“He can’t get you if I’ve got you. And this way, I might wake up faster if you see him again, yeah?” The boy just giggled.
“Y-yeah, I suppose.” He smiled and closed his eyes again.
-
The next time he woke, the man was still sitting next to him on the bed, and his heart sped up once again. He tried to move any of his muscles, just to do his best to get away, and suddenly, his leg moved, and he sighed. Maybe he could just regain control of his body, and--
There was a trickle on his leg, and for a second, he wasn’t concerned about it at all. He had other things to worry about, like the man that was up to his face now, breathing on him. But then it became obvious to him what was going on, and he tried everything in his power to get it to stop.
It wouldn’t, and the wet spot on his legs continued to spread out around him, onto the bed, the blankets, Stu… God, Stuart was going to kill him for this. He wasn’t five. He shouldn’t be doing this in bed. But he was, and there was nothing he could do to hide it.
Stuart then started shaking his shoulders, helping him to regain control of them, and he tensed when he realised that the other boy was sitting right next to him, already moving, so he had to have felt the mess he’d made.
“George? Was it that man again?” He nodded dreadfully, mumbling an apology for the wetness of them both. Stuart seemed to understand. “It’s alright, love. Nothing that can’t be cleaned up.”
George sobbed, throwing himself into his friend. “I’m really sorry. I just-- it started happening. I couldn’t move anything.”
“I know, kid. Like I said, nothing that can’t be cleaned up.” He started to get out of the bed, and George shook his head. “Let’s just go explain what’s happened, yeah? I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“It’s embarrassing, Stu. I don’t want them to know I pissed myself! Why can’t we just clean it ourselves?” Stuart glanced down to the floor.
“I’ll tell them it was me.” The younger boy hesitated. “Look, we don’t even know where their laundry room is, let alone how to even use the machines. Or if they even have machines!” He still said nothing. “We can’t just leave their sheets like this, George! You can stay here and pretend to be asleep if you want, but you could also just come with me.”
George rolled over in the bed. “I don’t want you to see my trousers,” he whispered.
“George--”
“Just go get them. You can tell them it was me. I don’t care.” He sniffled, and Stuart walked out of the room.
A few minutes later, the door opened again, and George wanted to cry. Stuart had probably told him he’d wet himself. What if they were mad? What if they made them both leave over it? Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he knew for a fact that it wasn’t Stuart’s. The touch was too soft.
“Love?” came the small voice of a woman. “Love, your friend told me that, erm…” He was expecting her to tell him that it was okay that he’d had an accident or some shit like that. But she didn’t. “He said he’s wet the bed, so you’re going to have to get up so we can clean the sheets for him.”
George sniffled, turning his head to see Stuart with a bright red face by the door. He got up out of the bed, trying to ignore the feeling on his pants. There was no way the boy had taken this blow for him.
“Sorry,” Stuart muttered for show, because they both knew that George should be the one apologising for all of it. But the younger boy just giggled quietly.
“It’s alright, Stu.” He leaned up against him with a smile.