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It was hot, a dry stagnant heat that hung in the air and made the inside of the van stifling. It was damn near oppressive and even stripping all of his clothes off didn’t help Felix any. He was laying on the floor of the van, on top of all their blankets, glaring at the ceiling. All of his clothes were kicked up underneath the passenger’s seat - save for his jacket and his gunbelt, both of which hung over the handlebars of his bike. It was quiet, just the sound of Locus’s breathing beside him. And, really, the thought that that motherfucker had actually fallen asleep in this heat --
Fuckin’ impossible.
He turned his head just enough to see Locus and found himself staring right into Locus’s eyes. The only light came from the full moon that shone through the windshield; it wasn’t a lot to see by, but Felix could still make out the tired way Locus was gazing at him.
Felix said, “It’s fuckin’ hot.”
“Mm.”
He twisted, lying on his stomach and resting his head on his folded arms. The blanket he was lying on was soft, felt nice against him. That is, it would until the heat set in. He was watching Locus now. “Told you to turn the air on for tonight.”
“Not enough gasoline for that.”
“Do we need the gas for air?”
“Do you want to risk running out?”
Felix sighed. He was lying too close to Locus, close enough to feel the warmth that rolled off the other man. It was always so nice, but this heat… Felix laid a hand on Locus’s chest, making a face at the way it felt. Warm. So warm. If it wasn’t so terrible tonight, he would have laid right up against this asshole - that heat, the warmth, it was just so goddamn good. He moved his hand just to rest it between them, and then Locus was lying on his side, bare leg against Felix’s. He was carding a hand through Felix’s hair, softly, nails scraping along his scalp. He fell asleep to that motion, to the feeling of Locus’s fingers snaking down his neck and over his shoulder.
In his dream, the van flipped. Hit a cliffside that was swarming with the undead. Felix was bleeding, pulling himself through the wrecked interior, over the bike - crushed - and the guns that still clattered on the wall. Guns held fast, he thought, stuck like glue if glue would clatter under his feet. He had pulled himself through the shattered windshield before he realized that he was alone. No one, not even Locus, was there to find him.
Zombies stood nearby, staring, eyes wide and white and blank but all-seeing. They peered into him, through his soul, and Felix felt his knees giving out. The asphalt under him was burning his skin as he fell. His breaths tore out of his throat in ragged gasps. Something heavy was settling on his shoulder, pushing him further into the road; the van looked like it was disappearing, shrinking, being replaced by hordes of undead watching him with those blank eyes.
One opened its mouth and a shriek came out, hanging in the air and striking through his heart. The others picked it up, mirrored it, and soon it was everywhere, at all sides. It weaved through his thoughts, crashed right into his brain, and then the something at his shoulder was digging claws into his flesh. He pulled his eyes from the zombies, from his disappearing van, and looked at Locus.
Locus, who was glaring at him with burning eyes. Locus who was so clearly dead and deformed and as Felix watched, his mouth dropped open, jaw stretching wide. Felix watched, fear rooting him to the spot, as Locus leaned forward to bite into his neck -- bright white, searing pain flared.
And then Felix woke with a start, feeling like a scream had died in his throat. His heart was racing, breathing jagged. There was a hand on his shoulder, warm and calloused, and it took a panicked moment for him to understand that it was Locus. And then, after a few more seconds, he was able to peer through the darkness at Locus’s face - calm, relaxed, absolutely not a threat and not deformed.
The dream was fading -- no, nightmare, that was nothing but a nightmare. He stared at Locus, hands clenched around the blanket beneath him, trying to recall details despite how much he wanted to forget. When Locus’s eyes cracked open, Felix instantly shut his own. Pretended he was sleeping soundly even when the hand on his shoulder slid slowly down his back. Locus said his name quietly, roughly, like he was only half-awake.
Felix didn’t answer. Tried not to react to the fingers moving over his spine. He was coated with sweat, he realized, a light sheen that felt sticky to him and god only knew how Locus could stand to touch him like he was. He wanted to blame it on the heat. It was probably due to the nightmare and how fucking pathetic was that?
Have a dream, sweat over it. Great job.
Locus said, “I know you’re awake.”
Felix said nothing. He opened one eye just a bit. Locus looked more awake, had sounded more awake. The hand on his back was moving with more pressure, palm coasting up his back, then fingers ghosting down. Just a smooth, repetitive motion.
Locus didn’t say anything else. He shifted closer, still rubbing Felix’s back even as he moved to kiss his forehead softly. Felix whined lowly; Locus brought a lot of heat with him, and he felt it building. He turned his face into Locus anyway, kissing him slowly. The motion on his back finally stilled as Felix flipped onto his back, pulling Locus with him. And Locus settled over him, one leg between Felix’s, the other braced against his hip. He started to kiss down Felix’s neck, softly and lightly and barely there at all.
“Are you gonna fuck me?” Felix whispered. He had brought a hand up, twisting it into Locus’s hair, eyes sliding closed.
“If you want,” was the answer Locus gave in low, quiet tones. He spoke against the base of Felix’s throat, against his pulse.
Felix paused, feeling Locus’s bare skin pressing against his own. He tried to focus on the pressure of Locus’s lips pressing against his skin as he moved across Felix’s collarbones; Locus was running his hands down Felix’s sides at the same time, squeezing and kneading and pulling Felix’s attention apart so he couldn’t focus on anything. He sighed, sliding his hand through Locus’s hair until the tie popped loose and his hair fell loose. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I want you.” He pulled on Locus’s hair, pulling him from his neck and dragging him forward for a kiss. Locus shifted between his thighs as they kissed, reaching down and stroking until Felix was hard.
When he moved to find the lube and condoms, Locus left a sudden void of heat. It was suffocating without him there -- strange and unwelcome, and Felix kept his gaze focused on the ceiling. He thought that it should have been the opposite, that Locus’s heat should have been too much when he was close and hovering over him, but it wasn’t. It was comforting and Felix pulled Locus down as soon he came back, sliding his hands over Locus’s arms, his shoulders, keeping him close.
Locus eased him open slowly, and Felix kept a hand wound in his hair, gasping and whining into the hot air around them. He had nearly forgotten what had woken him in the first place with Locus moving at a steady pace, rocking his hips forward to meet Felix’s backward thrusts - and then he felt teeth on his throat.
Light, nipping bites, and Felix’s heart jolted. His hands shot to Locus’s shoulders, pushing him back. Locus had stilled, looking at him and waiting. “Don’t… don’t bite,” he said.
Locus leaned down to his throat and Felix fought against a spike of fear -- all that happened was Locus kissing the spot he had bitten before, whispering into his ear -- “Alright. No biting.” He ran a hand through Felix’s hair as he spoke, brushing it off his forehead. Then he was moving again, sliding an arm under Felix’s hips to readjust, pressing into him and kissing him at the same time. Felix had a hand in Locus’s hair again, tangling it between his fingers, not letting him move away. There was this nagging thought that if Locus moved, if they separated, that the thing from his dream would be diving into his throat instead.
He spent himself with a gasping cry into Locus’s mouth, eyes closing as Locus finished. After, Locus wiped the mess off his stomach without being asked, placing kisses along his chest until Felix squirmed. And then they were lying together in the dark, Locus with an arm around Felix, trailing fingers up his stomach. He said, “Do you even remember why you woke?”
Felix was nearly asleep again, facing Locus. “Mmm… Something about a car crash? Zombies? I don’t know.” It was a lie, partially at least. There was that thing that had once been Locus, but the image was fading and Felix didn’t chase it.
A smile crossed Locus’s features -- barely there, but enough to make his face look softer somehow. “Good,” he said quietly, tugging Felix closer until he could rest their foreheads together. “Go back to sleep.” His fingers were light, like when Felix had first woken, moving in a way that left chills over his sweat-slicked skin.
Felix nudged his head under Locus’s, tucking his face against the base of his partner’s neck. Smelled like sweat, like sex, like the heat that hung outside - disgusting. He took a deep breath anyway, relaxing and letting his eyes close. In the morning, he was going to hate all this heat. He was going to hate Locus for holding him like this, but it was just so comforting and pleasant that he didn’t care for now. Locus had run the nightmares off, pushed the fear back, and Felix slept soundly.