I woke up in the middle of the night, stirred by movement near my feet.
It took me a moment to adjust to the dim light, but then I saw him: Adam.
Curled slightly, head near my feet, his face twisted in distress.
He was having a nightmare.
‘Should I wake him?’
I reached out, brushing my fingers lightly over his shoulder.
“Adam… Hey, Adam…” I whispered.
He jolted awake, breathing fast, eyes darting until they found mine.
“Nick… Nickie?”
His voice was barely there.
“Yeah, it’s me. You good?”
“Nickie…” Softer this time. Different. Like a child’s. “Nickie…”
“I’m here,” I said gently.
“Hold me… please…” His voice trembled, and my heart clenched.
I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around him.
He pulled me in instantly, almost crushing, fingers digging into my shoulders.
“Hey, Adam, let go a little-”
“Nickie…” His voice cracked. “Don’t leave… Please don’t leave…”
“I won’t,” I promised, wincing at the pressure. “Just… a little lighter, okay?”
But instead of loosening, he shifted, sudden and disorienting, until I was pinned beneath him.
My breath hitched, heat rushing to my face.
“Adam, what’re you-”
Then his lips were on my neck.
Soft. Warm. Lingering.
Then firmer, tracing upward.
Now he’s kissing along the line of my jaw, and my whole body goes still except for the tremor running through me.
His hand comes to rest against my neck, thumb stroking absent patterns, and I shiver so hard it almost hurts.
His other hand slides to my waist, his touch light but certain.
“Ad-d-am… W-wait…” My voice shakes, but my body isn't listening.
I don’t resist, and I know it.
His fingers slip under my shirt.
The contrast between cool air and the slow heat of his palm make me gasp.
My heart thuds so hard it drowns out everything else.
He presses against my stomach, inching upward, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
Then his touch gentles, fingertips brushing along my cheek and ear.
His face draws closer, breath fanning across my lips.
I close my eyes.
Hold still.
And then… nothing.
I opened my eyes.
He was an inch away, frozen.
Fear flickered across his face like he’d just woken again, really woken.
He pulled back fast, as if burned.
“I… I’m so sorry, Nickie. I don’t know what I was doing.”
“It’s okay,” I said quietly, sitting up.
He buried his face in his hands. His shoulders were shaking.
“What the hell…”
“Adam, you had a nightmare… you were half asleep. Don’t-”
“I’m really… really sorry.” His voice broke.
I hesitated.
My skin still burned where he’d touched me.
“I’m saying, it wasn’t unwelcome!...”
“I’m gonna go for a jog.”
He blurted it out, got up, and disappeared out the door, underdressed for the cold.
I sat there, pulse pounding in my ears, replaying the moment over and over.
It was surprising…
It felt so good.
Up until… fear and guilt crushed his face.
That was when the guilt hit me too.
For liking it…
When it had clearly caused him pain.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
A while passed, and I was starting to get worried.
‘Where did he go? Should I call? He left his phone. Shit. What if he’s in a panic somewhere alone? what if he-’
He came back.
Breathless from running.
He stopped when he saw me.
We stared at each other.
Then he turned away, disappearing into his room.
When he came back, he was holding a shirt.
He handed it to me without looking up.
“Adam…” I started, but he shook his head and left again.
I stared at his closed bedroom door for a minute, then I sighed and checked out the shirt he gave me.
It was a long-sleeved band tee with a turtleneck sewn in.
In the bathroom, I closed the door quietly and looked in the mirror.
And there.
On my neck.
Red. Faint.
A mark.
His.
I touched it lightly, and heat flushed through me.
The memory of his lips.
The pressure.
The warmth of his breath.
The way it made my entire body react…
It washed over me.
My knees went weak.
Then his face came back to me.
Fear. Regret. Tears.
He looked so ashamed.
My chest tightened.
‘I wanted to ease his pain. Not add to it.’
I gripped the sink, torn between desire and concern.
Breathed in. Breathed out.
I pulled the shirt over my head, the fabric brushing the mark.
He’d left something on me, and I wasn’t ready to let it go.
But this wasn’t just about me.
‘He called my name… begged me to hold him… He wasn’t being himself… I gotta find a way to help him.’
With that, I stepped out of the bathroom, telling myself I was ready for whatever came next.
***
We didn’t talk about what happened.
The morning was quiet.
The kind of silence that feels like it’s holding something back.
David was already up, moving around the kitchen with easy efficiency.
The smell of coffee and frying eggs drifted through the air, warm and familiar, but it didn’t touch the tension sitting between Adam and me.
Adam sat at the table, shoulders slightly hunched, thumbs rubbing over each other.
He hadn’t looked at me once since we’d come into the room.
David glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
“What’s the matter? You’re both so unusually quiet.”
“Had a nightmare,” Adam muttered, voice low enough that it almost got lost under the sizzle from the pan.
David paused, spatula hovering for a second, then nodded slowly. “Ah.”
He didn’t press, but his eyes flicked between us before he turned back to the stove. I could tell he knew there was more.
I stayed quiet, scrolling through my phone like it could build a wall between me and the night before.
The weight of it sat in the back of my mind, heavy and unspoken… until a notification popped up.
A band I loved was on tour. They’d be in a neighboring city soon.
My fingers hovered over the screen, excitement bubbling up despite everything.
For a moment, the heaviness loosened its grip, replaced by a small spark of anticipation.
***
Was she serious? | Adam’s POV
“Buckweed Funeral are playing next weekend! Hey, got any plans for Friday night? Wanna go with?”
Nickie’s excitement was contagious.
Her eyes glowing.
‘How come she’s so pretty?’
The thought slipped in before I could stop it.
I kept my gaze on the food.
“Where’s the gig?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.
“It’s an hour and a half’s ride by train,” she said. “You wanna come?”
“Yeah, sure,” I replied, trying to sound casual.
“You guys have fun,” David said, cutting off the swirl in my head.
“I got plans this time.”
Nickie glanced at me, something unreadable in her eyes. I looked away.
“There’s a night bus back, so we won’t be stranded,” she added.
“Cool.”
She smiled. “You can crash at my place after.”
“Great.”
I nodded along, responses automatic, my fingers curling against my palm under the table.
‘I can’t believe what I did last night… What the fuck is wrong with me?’
I don’t even know if I thought it was a dream, or if I was just… not in control.
‘Who the hell was driving back there? I haven't felt like this ever since… since…’
I risked a glance at her.
The way her smile lit the room made my chest feel tight and light at the same time.
‘She said it wasn’t unwelcome.’
The words wouldn’t stop replaying.
‘What did she mean? Does she want me to?...’
I looked again. She caught me this time.
I held her gaze for half a second too long before looking away, heat crawling up my neck.
‘Was she serious? Why would she say that if she didn’t mean it? To make me feel better? No way… Is it?’
“This is gonna be fucking awesome!” she said, beaming.
I dropped my eyes to the table again. Couldn’t hold it.
And yet, when we left, I still ended up walking with her to the bus stop.
“Adam, are you… getting on the bus?”
I blinked, realizing I’d stepped forward with her in line.
I hadn’t meant to… I was just walking her to the station, keeping her company until it came.
“Oh… right. No. I was just...” I glanced at the open doors, heat creeping up my neck. “I guess I zoned out. Sorry. See you later.”
“Okay,” she said softly. “Text me, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said, my throat tight, stepping back as the bus hissed and pulled away.
I told myself I’d just been distracted, but part of me knew I’d almost climbed on because I didn’t really want to watch her go.
The bus pulled away.
I stood there, feeling split in half.
Ashamed of what happened, but not ready to let her get too far from me.
‘I’m saying it wasn’t unwelcome.’
GET A FUCKING GRIP, ADAM.