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Everything is a little hazy, dim, as if you’ve wandered into an old photograph. The mall, or… is it a market? Whatever retail space you're in you walk through with a small group. Familiar people, family perhaps, but their faces and forms are blurry and you can't quite identify anyone. Regardless, the errands you run aren't for yourself, they're for your sibling, or cousin, or whoever. Some occasion is coming up and they need your input and help of course. The amount of time already spent here is unknowable. Maybe an hour, maybe five, perhaps even minutes or seconds. However long doesn’t matter. The group wanders on and on, in and out of shops and stalls and stores. You just float along with them.
Eventually the group moves into what feels like some form of old disco. The dance floor isn't lit up, the strobe lights aren’t powered. Only the plain incandescent fixtures dimly light up the space with a low hum. It's odd. Uneasy. Out of all the peculiar things seen while on these errands, this catches your attention. Your group murmurs amongst themselves. A sister or aunt or someone points out a machine in the back of the room. It's large, something like an industrial air conditioning unit. Black metal with panels and vents. Someone suggests you go near it. Whether the suggestion is said aloud or you just intrinsically know is unclear. Something is weird about this foreboding box, something off. You can’t explain it and you absolutely do not want to go near it. The whole group picks up on this apprehension. A rush of anxiety glues your feet to the ground, freezing you in place. A few members of the group branch off to look around. You get the sense they’re going to gossip about you out of earshot. One figure that feels like your dad or uncle or someone approaches you.
“Why do you have to just ruin things?” He says with disappointment clear on his blurry face. Everything pauses, the tide pulls out.
“What?”
“You've ruined the mood. You do this all the time.” He reiterates matter-of-factly. He’s saying what everyone must be feeling.
Your heart clenches and your brows furrow. You’re confused. You're sorry. The water swells.
“Why can't you just be normal? You always have to ruin things, what is your problem?” His voice is so awfully calm. The wave crests.
“I'm sorry…” You're sorry. You're so sorry. You feel eyes on you. You're sorry and your heart hurts. It feels like ice is permeating through your bloodstream with each passing second of indeterminate length. You’re so so sorry. Your arms feel heavy, and tears well up, emotions overwhelming. It breaks, crashing over you.
A sob so soft it's almost cruel shakes the images away, and everything is dark. Like you're underwater and drowning in the wave of enigmatic emotions overtaking you. Heart pounding and breath quaking, tears gently drip down the side of your face and soak into the pillow. A gentle voice calls your name from behind, accent dripping with concern. With a slight shuffle, a hand gently rests on your shoulder. It's only then that you realize you're awake. You blink your eyes open, vision blurry from sleep and sorrow. Turning over half-way you're met with the first face you can clearly recognize, Viktor. The morning sun filtering into the room turns his chestnut hair a deep caramel, and his honey eyes into pure gold. The glow sharpens the crease in his brows, full of concern and care. His face says everything you need to know.
“What's wrong, my love?” Viktor whispers as if any octave louder would break this fragile moment. More tears bleed out and a sniffle sneaks up on you. You fully turn over so your body faces his. With your arms tucked in, right over your heart, you lean your head into Viktor's chest. His chin gently nestles onto your head, one arm under the pillow you're resting on, the other finding its way to rub your back. You hiccup another sob as your mind continues to awaken.
Through the fog of your mind you notice faint music playing from the bathroom. The sound of soft but heavy footsteps pad around, and a hollow scrubbing noise is heard. Someone is brushing their teeth. The footsteps approach a bit and the door frame creaks with the weight of someone leaning in. The person seemingly taking in the bedroom, the mound of two familiar bodies resting peacefully in bed still. Your shoulders shake again with a whimper, betraying that assumed peace. You already know Viktor’s shirt is gonna be soaked. At least it's just his pajamas. The person behind you lets out a startled questioning noise muffled through foamed up toothpaste. They hurry back into the bathroom and stop the music. The sink is turned on and they spit out the contents of their mouth, and shut it back off. A rush of steps approaches again, but they don't stop until they reach the edge of the bed. A large body radiating warmth dips the mattress behind you.
“What happened? Are they okay?” The owner of that warmth speaks up, Jayce. His voice mirrors Viktors expression. Viktor doesn't say anything, probably communicating with his eyes that he doesn't know. Jayce rests a hand on your side and can tell he's leaning over the two of you.
“It's d-umb, I h-had a bad dream…” You croak out quietly, feeling small, bleary. With feelings so big in your sleepy state you quite nearly forgot what got you crying in the first place. Dreams and their finicky memorability, “It's stupid. It doesn't make any sense.”
“Well, I’ve never heard of a dream that did make sense.” Viktor coos. He leans back and you look up to him, then turning just enough to look up at Jayce. He looks just about ready for the day, besides being in his pj's. Unfurling an arm, you reach to him, and he grabs your hand while scooting ever closer to your laying forms.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Jayce asks, seemingly on the verge of tears himself. It's like he's trying to sap the sadness right out of you to lessen your burden. You hum, tears slowly starting to dry, and your gaze floats around the room as you think. You move your head to rest in the crook of Viktor's neck, eyes finding focus at the intersection the the wall and ceiling.
“It was weird…” Hesitation gives you pause as sense returns. You feel silly. Of course nothing in the dream would ever happen, but the way your own subconscious weaponizes your deepest insecurities… you explain most of what happened, what you could remember at least. The blurry group of familiar, unidentified people. The odd environment that never made sense and yet felt totally normal. That bizarre and intimidating box of black metal. And the heart wrenching words that cut to your exposed core and left you dazed and out of sorts.
Viktor squeezes you a little tighter, shifting slightly to kiss the top of your head. Jayce follows suit, leaning in and kissing your temple, his thumb rubbing across your hand and you get a whiff of his minty breath.
“It's a cruel thing to get bad dreams. Sleep leaves you vulnerable, even to your own mind. Don't feel ashamed for letting it affect you.” Viktor says with his voice so soft you could stuff a plushie with it were it tangible. Jayce hums in agreement, shifting again to crawl back in bed behind you. His arm rests tangled in your own, right over your chest, right where it hurt minutes ago. You are completely enveloped, three bodies comfortably pressed together. The warmth of the two men rivals the blankets you’re beneath. It's almost overwhelming. Almost.
“I've startled awake countless times from nightmares, and what do you always tell me?” The vibration of Jayces voice soothes your heart like a salve. You softly huff out a phantom of a laugh, knowing what he's getting at.
“Even though it isn't real, the feelings are.” You say just above a mumble.
“And what do we do about those feelings?” Jayce squeezes in ever closer, his cheek mushed onto the back of your shoulder. You smile, turning your face into Viktor again, feeling him smirk into your hair.
“Make ‘em feel better.” You muffle out, sound bouncing off Viktors collarbones. It's so simple with them.
“And what better way to feel better than with a nice homemade breakfast,” Jayce squeezes you once more, and lifts himself up, resting on his elbow, “In the mood for anything in particular?”
“I could go for some pancakes.” Viktor responds. Jayce wriggles his arm free from your grasp and gently nudges Vik.
“Wasn’t asking you, V.” Jayce chuckles out, and Viktor’s expression turns mischievous. You can’t help but giggle at them. Jayce puts his hand on your shoulder, thumb lightly rubbing back and forth.
“Pancakes sound good.” Turning, you look at him. His hazel eyes, almost olivine, bounce back and forth between you and Viktor.
“You’re not just saying that cause V said it, right?” You nod. His eyes narrow and he leans in real close, “You mean it?”
Now he’s just being silly. Before you can nod again and verbalize your response, you are assaulted with a flurry of Jayce smooches. A breathless laugh escapes you as you're caught off guard, and you clutch onto Viktor. You feel the vibrations of his own laughter, and soon the kisses end. Jayce sits back up.
“Coffee? Tea?” He asks, hair tousled, pretending as if nothing happened. He looks between you and Vik.
“I think I’ll have tea this morning.” Viktor answers first again, cheeky. You poke his face. Jayce turns his focus to you.
“Surprise me.” You smile.
“Oh, and let's have some berries too. They're going to go bad soon.” Viktor adds. Jayce’s face lights up like he forgot about the produce. The produce that he specifically wanted to snack on, but Viktor urged against it saying he’d forget about it until the last minute. Which he did.
With that, Jayce starts hauling himself up off the bed, but not before he kisses Viktor on the head and you on the cheek. Of course he gives you a few extra, just to be safe. Right as Jayce fully stands, as if on cue, there's pawing and meowing at the bedroom door. The door opens, and two little speed demons beeline for the bed, completely ignoring Jayce.
“Good morning to you too…” He says with mock deject, but he chuckles it off and makes his way to the kitchen. A sleek ginger hops up and wedges himself between you and Viktor, cozying in without a care in the world, purring all the while. At the foot of the bed a rotund tuxedo cat sits, eventually lowering himself into a loaf, merely observing.
“Good morning Crank,” Viktor looks toward the cat at his foot, then turns and lifts a hand to the ginger rolled up between you two, “and good morning Blitz.” The little cat butts his head into the hand offered. You and Viktor shimmy to accommodate the little guy, and offer room for Crank should he join the puddle. You rest your head over your lithe partner's chest, brushing a hand through Blitz’ soft fuzz. The calm after the storm of incomprehensible dreams, so calm you could fall back asleep without worry.
“How are you feeling?” Viktor asks before you’re lulled to sleep again. You take a second to think, to feel.
“Mm.. still a little weird, lil shaken, but you guys made it a lot better.” You nuzzle into him like a cat would to emphasize your appreciation.
“That's understandable, waking up like that.” His arm around brings you impossibly closer, no escaping his affection. Not that you’d ever want to anyway, “Why don’t you rest some more? There's still time before Jayce is done with breakfast.”
“Already two steps ahead of you.” You hum. Your arm is around Blitz as if he was a long loved stuffed animal, and your head rests on Viktor as if he’s your favorite pillow in the whole world. Or perhaps second favorite. It’s hard to beat Jayce’s plush body and eternal warmth.
First you smell the aroma of blueberry pancakes and coffee. Second you feel an arm around you and a large hand caressing your hair. And third, you hear soft voices calling your name, sprinkled with a cheesy pet name or two. You are pulled from your slumber, but far more gently this time. Before you open your eyes, your body involuntarily stretches, causing a comfortable groan. Finally you look around, and are pleasantly surprised that Crank did in fact join the cuddle puddle.
“May I have my arm back? It's quite numb and I'd like to use it later.” Vik says beside you, wiggling a bit. In your infinite compassion and mercy, you allow his arm back, but you still rest your head on his shoulder.
“How're you feeling now?” Jayce says from above, still petting your hair like he would to one of the cats.
“Mmm… hungry.” You rub the sleep and sand from your eyes. A wake-up yawn slips out, causing Crank, the ever watchful kitty, to yawn in return. You and Vik both sit up. He stretches, back and bones popping. Getting a good look at him, you snicker. His bed head is absolutely gnarly. He shoots you a taunting side-eye.
“Don’t laugh at me. Your hair is just as bad.” He smirks. You go to reach for your hair to brush and pat it in place, but Jayce is faster and musses it up even more. The three of you laugh, and Viktor brushes a hand through your hair to settle the chaos.
“Cmon, let's eat before the pancakes get cold.” Jayce moves so there's ample space for you and Viktor to mosey out of bed.
“Did you use all the berries?” Inquires Viktor, shoving the blankets off and eyeing the broad man suspiciously.
“All the blueberries are in the pancakes.” He says proudly, holding Viktors crutch out for him.
“And the strawberries?” Viks brow raises, accepting his crutch and standing. Jayce avoids his gaze.
“I’ll put a few on the side, maybe make a smoothie later.”
“The raspberries?” Viktor tilts his head. Jayce turns all the way around.
“No time like the present to enjoy some food!” Jayce says like the volume in which he speaks will distract from the previous line of questioning. They must’ve gone bad. Jayce speeds his way to the kitchen. Viktor chuckles fondly, rolling his eyes.
“Shall we?” He offers you a hand. You take it, kicking your legs over the side of the mattress, sliding your slippers on and standing. Once fully up, Viktors stomach growls something fierce, and yours responds in kind. You laugh in unison. Seems like breakfast can’t wait any longer.