Page 8 of Our Time

I fall asleep quickly but my dreams aren’t the peaceful kind. They’re filled with sweat and panting and uncomfortable heat. I feel stifled. I can’t fucking breathe but as I gasp air into my lungs all I can smell is the wrong, overbearingly sweet scent of my own heat. It feels so real and I hate it. Everything feelswrong. I’m back to that first heat all over again, feeling like my skin was too tight and my body was completely and utterly betraying me. I hate this. I hate my body. I hate that I have no control over what’s happening. I want to rip at my skin just to have a moment of peace!

I wake with a gasp, pulling the covers away from my body. My breathing is labored and I wipe my face, finding my hand coming away covered in sweat.

“No, no, no,” I murmur over and over and over, overwhelmed with the idea that my body could be betraying me again even though logically I know that’s not possible anymore. My hands shake as I forcibly get my way out of the bedding and toss myself onto the floor away from Ryder

“Hey, hey,” Ryder says, leaning over the edge of the bed and looking down at me with wide eyes. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re here with me. You’re safe.”

I cover my face with my hands, trying to get my breathing under control. I take a deep breath and Ryder’s sweet caramel scent hits my nose. It helps to soothe and calm me further. There’s no scent of heat on the air. It’s just me and Ryder. Nothing is happening. My transition is far enough along that I don’t even have the parts to go into heat anymore. I’m okay.

“I’m okay,” I tell him, my breathing coming down. “I’m okay.”

“Come back up here,” Ryder says softly, holding out his hand for me. I take it, letting him pull me up to the bed. “Can I touch you? Is that okay? Or do you need space?”

I swallow thickly. “You can touch me. It’s okay.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Come here, Ben.” Ryder carefully pulls me towards him and I lay my head against his chest. I wrap my arms around his middle, holding on tight. He runs his fingers up and down my back, just holding me as I calm down. The cool air is helping to calm me down and I shiver, burying my face against Ryder’s chest.

This feels good. To be taken care of like this, to have my best friend hold me. I breathe him in greedily, letting his scent wash over me. It soothes something deep within me.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” A sigh leaves my lips without my permission. “You don’t have to,” Ryder adds, “but sometimes talking it out helps me process things. It might help you too.”

“I had a nightmare,” I tell him, burying my face against his chest, trying to get deeper even though I know I can’t. His hands continue their path up and down my spine. “I had a nightmare that I was going into heat.”

“Oh, Ben.”

“Yeah,” I say, letting out a snort that’s far from humorous. “I couldn’t breathe because I was just so fuckinghot.”

“I’m sorry. I think I rolled over in my sleep. I was probably the reason you woke up so hot like that.”

“It’s okay,” I say right away, not wanting Ryder to feel like this was his fault. I squeeze his middle. “I don’t mind you snuggling me in your sleep. I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Still.”

I shake my head, needing Ryder to understand. “It’s not your fault. I promise.”

“Logically I know that. Just like I’m sure you know it’s not possible for that to ever happen to you again.” I nod my head. “That doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“Of course. How could I not feel guilty?”

“I don’t think I’m following, Ryder.”

Ryder lets out a deep breath. His hands stop for a moment, like he’s focusing all his energy on finding the right words. The room is so still that I can hear the buzz of the vending machine outside. After a moment, his hands start moving again, running through the back of my hair now. It feels nice.

“I’m still so sorry about that day,” Ryder whispers. My body goes tense as I remember that day, knowing exactly what Ryder is talking about. “It was so awful for you. I wish there was something I could have done to make it more tolerable for you.”

“Ryder,” I start to say but he just shakes his head.

“No, no. I get it. Things went to shit after that day and I’ve always felt in some way that it was my fault.”

It’s been years since that day. Part of me can’t believe this is the first time we’re actually talking about it, but I know why we didn’t. Things changed that day and neither of us were brave enough to actually talk about it, wanting to save our friendship. We wanted to hold onto what we had left so tightly that we were both convinced that talking things out would do nothing but break us for good.

Here, in this dark hotel room away from home, I’m filled with bravery. Maybe it’s the fact that I just had a nightmare and I’m feeling vulnerable. Or maybe it’s Ryder’s scent and arms around me. Either way, I open my mouth and the words begin spilling out.

“Ryder, listen to me,” I say, sitting up and turning so that I can look into his pretty brown eyes. “That wasn’t your fault.”

Ryder looks away, shaking his head. I touch his cheek gently and those eyes snap back to meet mine. “Ben, please.”

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