Unrequited Read online

  what your mouth screaming felt like, but he decided to let that

  comment pass.

  “I’ll try those tonight then, if that’s okay,” he said as he

  rubbed his sore neck.

  “Where’re

  the

  drinks?”

  Shane

  asked

  without

  acknowledging Vic’s acceptance of the offer.

  “What?” Vic asked as he put on his sunglasses.

  “You went in to get drinks,” Shane told him.

  “I went in to take a piss,” Vic corrected.

  “But you always bring back drinks when you go in. It’s the

  rule,” Shane said in an oddly innocent voice that made Vic

  want to laugh despite himself.

  “Whose rule?” he asked incredulously.

  “My rule. Our rule. The rule,” Shane answered

  emphatically. “You always bring back drinks.”

  “It’s nine o’clock in the morning!” Vic told him, finally

  giving in to the urge to laugh.

  “So? Normal etiquette does not apply when your ass is in

  the sand and your feet are in the water and—”

  “Well, drag your ass into the sand and I’ll toss you a

  drink,” Vic said flippantly as he settled back into the chair.

  “It’s really windy out there,” Shane pointed out plaintively.

  “And the sand is hot.”

  “So?” Vic prodded.

  “Superheated windblown sand hurts,” Shane told him as

  he settled back into his chair as well.

  Vic laughed softly and closed his eyes.

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  “What are we gonna do today?” Vic asked after a few

  moments of comfortable silence.

  “You’re gonna go get the drinks,” Shane said confidently.

  “Fuck you. What else are we gonna do?”

  “I thought we were doing it,” Shane answered happily.

  “Beautiful.”

  Vic awoke shaking for the third night in a row, so scared that

  he could barely move. He rarely had dreams at all, not any that

  he could remember clearly anyway, and never were they as

  vivid as these past few nights’ had been. Nor so gruesome.

  He looked over at the clock by the bed, barely moving his

  head for fear that the darkness would find him awake and easy

  to prey upon. He couldn’t remember being this scared after a

  dream since he had been a little boy. What the hell was his

  problem?

  It was nearly three in the morning. Not late enough to get

  out of bed without having to explain to Shane that he’d had a

  bad dream and was terrified to go back to sleep. He could only

  imagine the incredulous look that would steal over the other

  man’s face when he heard that.

  Thirty-seven years old and having night terrors, he thought

  in displeasure, the fear not having ebbed enough to allow him

  to grumble it out loud.

  He was still frozen to the spot in which he had awoken.

  Still shaking. Still clutching the covers to him as if they could

  ward off evil. Still too frightened to even squeak for help. Was

  this what panic attacks felt like? When you had one did you

  know even as you were panicking that you were a fool for doing

  it?

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  “Vic?” Shane’s soft voice whispered questioningly from the

  doorway.

  Vic inhaled deeply, gasping for breath as relief washed

  over him to know that someone else in the world was alive and

  breathing, but he still couldn’t say anything.

  “Vic, you okay?” Shane asked in a louder voice.

  “No,” Vic breathed.

  “What’s wrong?” Shane asked immediately as he walked

  into the room and flipped on the light switch.

  Nothing happened and Shane cursed softly.

  Vic closed his eyes and remembered that there were no

  overhead lights. The switch was attached to the lamps, and he

  had cut them both off at the source when he had gone to bed.

  “Are you sick? Vic?” Shane asked as he ventured carefully

  into the room.

  “I’m okay,” Vic managed to whisper after hearing the rising

  panic in Shane’s voice.

  “You cried out,” Shane told him as he edged into the dark

  room, going slowly so as not to trip or ram his toes into

  anything. “You cried for help. What’s wrong?”

  “Nightmare,” Vic managed to say as Shane’s presence

  began to relax him.

  “Oh,” Shane said, sounding slightly let down.

  “Jesus,” Vic murmured. “I’ve never had such bad dreams

  in my life.”

  “It’s the melatonin,” Shane said softly as Vic felt the light

  thump of his hands patting the mattress. “A side effect is that

  it intensifies dreams. Makes them more vivid.”

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  “You could have mentioned that,” Vic said flatly as his

  body began to calm and the shaking subsided. “What kind of

  sleep aid gives you bad dreams?”

  “Doesn’t affect good or bad,” Shane said matter-of-factly as

  he pulled back the covers of Vic’s bed and sat down beside

  him. “Just intensifies them, I guess. What kind of dreams are

  you having?”

  “Horrible ones. Bloody ones,” Vic mumbled as he blushed

  furiously in the darkness and rubbed his face. It was

  embarrassing to have Shane there, witnessing the freak-out.

  Comforting, but embarrassing all the same. “People-being-

  chopped-up kind of dreams,” he said. “Gore and blood and… I

  think I was attacked by Bigfoot at the end.”

  “Bigfoot?” Shane asked with a smile in his voice as he

  leaned back onto his elbow and lay down beside Vic.

  “Pretty sure it was Bigfoot,” Vic affirmed. “He jumped into

  my car.”

  “I’m betting the car ran screaming and left you behind?”

  Shane asked, barely managing not to laugh.

  “Shut up,” Vic muttered.

  “Do we need to analyze these dreams for hidden meaning?”

  Shane asked teasingly.

  “It’s not funny,” Vic told him seriously.

  “Sorry,” Shane said solemnly as he cleared his throat and

  settled into the bed. “Wow, you weren’t kidding,” he murmured

  as Vic wondered what the hell he was doing. “This mattress is

  horrible.”

  “What are you doing?” Vic asked, unable to refrain from

  asking.

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  “I’m lying down with you,” Shane replied, as if it were the

  most obvious thing in the world.

  “I’m not five,” Vic protested.

  “No, but you still called out for help in the middle of the

  night and scared the living shit out of me,” Shane argued. “At

  least if I’m here I can smack you next time you do it.”

  “Fair enough,” Vic agreed sulkily, flushing once more at

  the thought that he had actually cried out because of a bad

  dream. In front of Shane, no less. “Hold me?” he asked

  cheekily, batting his eyelashes and holding his hands clasped

  under his chin as he tried to cover the embarrassment with a

  joke.

  Shane snickered slightly, but then to Vic’s utter

 
; astonishment, he rolled onto his side and slid one arm beneath

  Vic’s head and wrapped the other over Vic’s chest. Vic

  automatically turned into the embrace, and before he knew it

  Shane really was actually holding him, his breath gusting

  against the back of Vic’s neck as he chuckled.

  “Anyone finds us like this, we blame it on the liquor,”

  Shane said in a low voice full of laughter.

  Vic snickered a little in response, and allowed Shane’s

  comforting presence to lull him back to sleep.

  Vic awoke with a gasp and sat straight up in bed, his

  breathing coming in short, painful bursts and his heart

  pounding in his chest as the terror overtook him once more.

  “It’s all right,” Shane’s sleep-roughened voice told him

  gently as a hand tugged at his shoulder. “Vic… calm down. It’s

  okay,” he coaxed as he sat up with Vic and rubbed his back.

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  “Can we just get up now?” Vic asked shakily. He turned

  his head to see the clock, which told him that it was just half

  past four in the morning.

  “Come here,” Shane said in a gruff voice, and he tugged at

  Vic once more.

  Vic relaxed back into him and allowed Shane to turn him

  over until Vic’s head was resting on Shane’s shoulder and his

  hand was clutching at the thin T-shirt Shane had worn to bed.

  He was still shaking from another horrendously gruesome

  dream, and he couldn’t believe that he was making such a

  scene of himself in front of the other man. He wasn’t exactly

  the fainting maiden type, usually.

  Regardless, he was glad that Shane was there, and glad

  that he was comfortable enough with their friendship to hold

  him like he was and keep the dreams at bay.

  “Not many men would hold a friend after a nightmare,” he

  mused quietly as Shane held him tightly.

  “That’s not true,” Shane said sleepily, his body already

  relaxing as sleep overtook him once more. “No one in his right

  mind would leave someone like you alone when you needed

  him,” he mumbled.

  Vic tensed, his mind almost immediately going to Owen.

  But to his surprise, his thoughts quickly jumped back to

  Shane, lingering on how natural it felt to lay here with him. He

  felt like Shane’s priority right now, and he had rarely gotten

  that feeling in the past five years. He held his breath and

  waited for Shane to say more, but nothing more came. Soon

  Shane’s soft, regular breathing told Vic that his friend was

  asleep once again.

  The comment had obviously been pointed, whether Shane

  had intended it to be or not. Vic told himself that he couldn’t

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  help what Shane thought of Owen, or of him. Not now, anyway.

  But maybe he had a chance to change Shane’s opinion of him.

  He knew one thing: he didn’t want to be judged by the way he

  let Owen treat him.

  Vic sighed, letting it go for the moment as his body relaxed

  back into sleep.

  “Hey,” Shane said groggily as soon as Vic opened his eyes. His

  head was no longer resting on Shane’s shoulder; in fact, they

  were no longer touching at all, but they were both lying on

  their sides, facing each other. Vic smiled lopsidedly at the other

  man.

  “Morning,” he replied roughly.

  “You were right. This mattress is shit,” Shane said flatly.

  Vic snorted and closed his eyes again. “That mean you’re

  not switching with me, then?” he asked wryly, his voice hoarse

  with sleep.

  “No,” Shane said immediately. “I mean yes, that’s what it

  means. But I’d be willing to share the good mattress,” Shane

  offered after a moment of thought. “No groping me, though. I

  know how you operate.”

  “Deal. Deal deal deal,” Vic agreed happily, crooning the

  words as he rolled onto his back. He could already hear his

  back and neck muscles singing Shane’s praises. “Give us a

  kiss,” he requested cheekily as he turned his head to Shane

  and puckered his lips comically.

  “Get away, you silly bastard,” Shane muttered as he

  placed his hand over Vic’s face and pushed him away. Vic gave

  him several smacking kisses and then an outright lick on the

  palm of his hand for his trouble. “Ugh,” he said in disgust as he

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  pulled his now-wet hand away and then wiped it on Vic’s

  shoulder.

  Vic snickered as Shane scooted away from him, the other

  man cussing at him right up until the point where he tumbled

  off the edge of the bed.

  “I thought I was your shiny thing!” Vic wailed dramatically

  as he flopped himself across the mattress and snuffled against

  the pillow.

  “Fucker,” Shane grumbled as he stuck his head up over

  the edge of the bed and glared up at Vic. “Go brush your teeth.

  Then we’ll talk.”

  Vic stood chest high in the water and watched in amusement

  as Shane paced at the water’s edge. He would come in

  eventually—his pride wouldn’t stand for it much longer—, but

  watching him try to work up the nerve to put his toes in the

  cold water was entirely too amusing. The storm they’d driven

  through to get there had brought with it mild weather and cold,

  calm water. It was absolutely heavenly.

  Vic chuckled to himself and splashed a little, kicking off

  the ocean’s floor and floating over a wave, allowing his toes to

  breach the water’s surface briefly before he set them back down

  once more.

  “Water’s just right!” he called, stifling a chuckle as Shane

  glared out at him.

  “It’s freaking cold, man!” Shane called back.

  He was right, of course. The water was so cold that it had

  made Vic lightheaded as he made his way past the breakers,

  and he had shivered uncontrollably for several minutes,

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  gasping for breath whenever a wave would hit skin that wasn’t

  submerged. He had suffered all this in silence, knowing that

  one squeak about how cold it was would drive Shane right

  back to his little beach chair and Vic would never get him in

  the water.

  “It’s fine after a while,” Vic coaxed.

  “Yeah, well so is being sober, but you don’t see me rushing

  to do that anytime soon,” Shane called back.

  “You’re not afraid of seaweed, are you?” Vic asked

  tauntingly.

  Five years ago Shane would have visibly bristled at the

  taunt, and he would have waded in just to prove that he wasn’t

  frightened of anything. Now, though, he simply made a pffft

  noise that Vic heard all the way from where he was. Several

  women walking down the beach chattered and giggled, and Vic

  saw Shane roll his eyes as he realized that the only way to

  avoid any public embarrassment was to come into the water.

  Vic grinned widely as Shane finally slumped his shoulders

  and walked into the water that was lapping at his toes. He

  st
ifled his laughter when he saw Shane gasp and close his eyes

  as a wave splashed the upper portion of his body.

  Shane opened his eyes and glared at Vic again, trooping

  forward still and finally making it past the breakers and

  submerging his body up to his shoulders before swimming the

  rest of the way out to where Vic floated.

  “I h-hate you,” he told Vic through chattering teeth.

  “You know, they probably didn’t care that you were being a

  pansy,” Vic said thoughtfully as the women walked by and

  Shane shivered next to him.

  “I hate y-you,” Shane stuttered.

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  “This was your idea, now,” Vic scolded, waving his finger

  through the air and sprinkling Shane with water.

  “My idea c-consisted of getting a t-tan and g-getting

  consistently drunk,” Shane protested as his jaw began to lock

  on him. “W-wet and cold had nothing to d-do with either.”

  “You’re pitiful, you know that?” Vic said with a laugh.

  “If I am, then it’s y-your f-fault,” Shane stuttered as he

  shivered and submerged himself all the way until his nose

  touched the water.

  “Loosen up,” Vic told him with a laugh as he waded over to

  him.

  Shane bobbed his head up out of the water and lifted his

  chin as Vic neared him.

  “If you’re all tight then you’ll just shiver more and more

  until your teeth all crack,” Vic advised.

  “I’ll c-crack your teeth if you even think about d-dunking

  me,” Shane growled as he eyed Vic warily. He wasn’t very

  threatening, crouched low in the water and looking up at Vic

  like he was, but Vic stopped moving and gave the other man

  his most innocent look, which, judging from the way Shane

  then snarled at him, was not very convincing.

  “I won’t dunk you, because then you’d hit me, and I’d

  bleed, and then we’d get attacked by sharks,” Vic told him as

  he started moving once more. He placed his hands on each of

  Shane’s biceps and rubbed up and down slowly as he lowered

  himself to Shane’s level. He gasped a little as the cold water hit

  his neck. “Just loosen up. You’ll be okay in a sec,” he said as