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He can feel the dream on the edge of his memory, heavy and jagged, trailing tendrils of sounds linger just on the verge of understanding. A bitter taste tingles on his tongue, cooper, and he rolls it around in his mouth. The feel of smooth, soft, tender skin presses against his lips, pulling him further from the echoes of his troubled slumber. A half groan, half sigh twists out between his teeth and he reaches for the lingering presence over him, above him, around him. His fingers find a form, real and solid, and he curves his hands around it, pulling it closer.
A hum or pleasure breaks through his sleep-drenched ears, and he holds it to himself, lets it fill his head, keep him in the moment. His mouth parts, and he moans as he tastes morning and last night, and he remembers.
“Bill?”
“Who else could it be.” The gruff voice rumbles along sensitive skin as his mouth moves down Frank’s neck.
“Don’t know, though I was somewhere else for a second.” Frank’s not fully awake yet, his mind still between one place and the next. His eyes stay closed as he feels the light at the window peek through his lashes, warm on his skin. Bill’s trembling fingers roam down his side up his chest around to his back, pressing in some places, skimming across others, delicate, reverent.
Frank slips in and out of time as Bill’s mouth moves along his body, lips gentle, a balm for the lingering memory of the dream. It slides away as he focuses on the feeling of being safe, adored, treasured.
“Woke up, expected you to be gone.” Bill’s voice low, unsure, on the skin of Frank’s belly.
“Left in the night?” Frank asks, arching slightly in the bed as Bill leaves open-mouth kisses along his chest. Frank’s hands come up lazily to card through Bill’s hair, loving the feeling of the silken stands playing through his fingers.
“Like you were never real, disappeared like mist,” Bill says, his lips now on his Adam's apple. His body moves over the top of him, arms coming to wrap around his back, holding him as if he really might vanish at any moment. Frank pulls Bill’s face up to his and finally opens his eyes. Bill’s blue steely gaze, misted with hazy sleep and longing, stares back at him, Frank smiles, pulling him down into another lazy press of lips.
“Not gone,” Frank mumbles, letting his eyes slide back shut. “Still early, stay with me?” he asks, and Bill hums a confirmation. The morning creeps by as they tangle tighter together, worries and memories dissipating with each kiss they share.