Somewhere in between dreaming and reality, the place where paralysis demons roam, Aiden heard screaming—or something like it. Muffled gasps of terror and someone calling his name.

He woke with a jump and looked to the door.

Aiden’s heart skipped—nearly stopped—when he saw a figure standing in the doorway. His eyes squinted in a weak attempt to make out their profile past the shadows and drunkenness, and finally, he noticed Fowler’s hat in a small light peeking through the curtains.

With a heavy sigh, Aiden dropped his head onto the pillow and relaxed again. “Fuck…Fowler. You scared the shit out of me.” He said, feeling the bed move when the man joined him without a response.

Aiden stretched, turning over to find a more comfortable position.

Gently, a hand slid up his thigh, a cold touch leaving a damp trail. He tried to escape it and moved his leg, but Fowler’s grip tightened.

“Asshole, your hands are wet…” He murmured, though the man kept going until he reached under Aiden’s briefs and squeezed his ass.

His hips shifted. “Quit it. I’m tired.”

The hand persisted, sliding fingers in between his ass cheeks provokingly.

Aiden reached for the man’s hand. “Fowler, I said—“

Fowler grabbed his wrist suddenly, interrupting his words and nearly lifting him off the bed with an out-of-where strength.

Taken back, Aiden glanced behind him and saw his boyfriend’s silhouette leaning closer, a face made of dark outlines and clouded by liquor.

The bed moved again, and he knew Fowler was closing the distance. Aiden tensed and held back a gasp when damp fingers started drawing circles up the curve of his side while others teased deeper places.

Each simple touch lit a spark between his legs. “…Fowler…?”

“Shhh.” He whispered, a soothing lullaby inviting Aiden closer in a dreamy shiver.

And they kissed.

Softly, at first, then quickening to a starving pace and a hunger for something he’d nearly forgotten, for something dangerous.

Strong arms—which he never used for any kind of strength—tightened around Aiden’s back and over his hips, a grip making him feel maiden-weak.

It’d been so long since they’d fucked, what with countless friends coming and going, endless arguments, and nonstop partying. The man’s voice felt unfamiliar at times. And Aiden promised himself no more drunk sex after the last time when Fowler puked everywhere.

But tonight was different.

He was different.

His mouth held a strange taste; pennies and vodka mixing with mint, one that should’ve made Aiden sick, but instead kept him close. Saliva traded, and he moaned, whimpering into the man’s mouth as their tongues sampled each other’s lips and palates.

Sadly, their kiss ended abruptly.

Fowler replaced his tongue with a thumb and ceased Aiden’s, pressing tight to keep his mouth open so each moan could crawl out unfiltered.

Aiden panted, lips wet and he whined for more.

With pressured strokes, Fowler played with Aiden’s tongue, sliding his thumb in slowly and out quicker, movements making him go mad with anticipation.

His briefs were tightening, and Aiden squeezed his thighs together in a poor man’s effort to stop himself from getting too eager too soon. Maybe it was the liquor or possibly the prolonged period of nonconsensual abstinence, but fuck, he wanted it bad.

Then, Fowler moved him by the neck, shoving him face-first into that hard erection hiding behind tight pants.

Aiden shivered.

The sensation didn’t crawl disgustingly up his spine as he expected but sauntered slowly over each vertebra with a sickly-sweet intensity. His cock jolted with excitement, especially when his dumb-shit boyfriend felt thicker in this dreamy-drunk state.

Unsatisfied like a bitch in heat, he nuzzled into the man's groin, drawing out a soft—and strangely cruel—smirk from him.

Where has this side of him been our whole relationship? He wondered.

Aiden lifted his head, and a hand smacked his ass, hard enough and quick enough to pull out a noise he never heard himself make, some high-pitch whimper that enjoyed the pain rather than regretted it.

“A-Ah! F-Fowler?” He said with the man kneading and pinching that sore spot until he winced. “Shit, that…hurt.”

“Ass up, face down. Now.” His voice was more profound than usual, probably lowered by too much rum and the hot air of their room, but fuck, it was sexy.

And he obeyed, pressing his face back into Fowler’s lap and lifting onto his knees so he was ass up with his back arched.

Aiden hoped the man was pleased. He was frighteningly desperate for approval and seeking his touch as a reward instead of an answer to this pathetic desperation.

Fowler laughed, a dark tone riding the edge of his voice, and he seemed pleased with Aiden’s obedience—or enjoying his inner struggle with wanting more pain.

The man rubbed his ass, possibly praising him now for listening so well. The chilly, sticky touch of his hand slipped under Aiden's briefs once more and pulled them down.

Fingers slid in and rolled around Aiden’s tight asshole, shamelessly making him move his hips to a soft rhythm of heartbeats and rising moans. And Aiden playfully bit the man’s pants, breathing hotly against Fowler’s hard dick.

He stirred, and the bitter taste of the man’s skin sank into his open mouth and laid dormant on his tongue after Fowler forced his fingers in.

“Suck,” He said without the expectation of being ignored. Leaning down, Fowler nipped Aiden’s ear and spoke into it coldly. “Make them wet if you want it easy.”

It was a threat—or it sounded like one, and he meant it.

Aiden did so, sucking on fingers while undoing the man’s pants to free the dick he craved.

The room was hot as hell now, adding to the feverish flush of his body and followed by a tingling vibration consuming his erection and probing his asshole. At this point, Fowler was teasing him a little too much, and it seemed like forever before his fingers pulled out of his mouth in a gasp of air and strings of saliva.

“Fowler, babe,” Aiden couldn’t remember the last time he begged the man to do anything other than shut up, so it was odd feeling this vulnerable. “Hurry and put it—”

Aiden’s swallowed his words in a quick movement. Every syllable and breath in between pushed back into his throat by Fowler’s cock.

He panicked, tasting and feeling it nesting inside his throat all the way to the root. Aiden tried to move, but Fowler’s grip weaved through strands of his dyed hair and kept him in place.

With shaking heads and teary eyes, Aiden felt up Fowler's chest, pounding and scratching at exposed skin, anything to tell him to pull out.

The man’s hips gave a thrust, and Aiden choked. His eyes fluttering shut, arousal blooming within him and he wanted to come at that very moment. 

Fowler laughed again, a wicked chuckle carrying a strange echo inside Aiden’s foggy mind.

“Come on, baby,” He purred. “Show me what you're best at.”