Just Know You’re Not Alone

Hello again. I’m posting a couple little ficlets I’ve managed to finish in the past few months. Yes, I’m still working on Disney. And several other stories. My muse. She’s so flighty. *sigh*

Anyway, this one is a flashback to Hawaii, shortly after they moved there.

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A hand touched Seb’s shoulder, and the bed beneath him swayed. He cracked his eyes open a millimeter before rubbing his fist over them in an attempt to drive away the disorientation. Yes, the bed was moving. It was also too small and much too exposed to a chilly Hawaiian morning breeze. This, his sleepy brain decided, was a problem for later.

Then Zain sat on his feet.

“Ungghphm,” Seb said, trying to kick him off. A second later, the penny dropped. His eyes opened fully as his gaze flew to Zain.

“Finally. I was starting to think a zombie hoard attacked while I was gone and left zombie-Seb behind on the porch swing to eat my brains.”

“Whe’… when di’ju get home?” Seb asked. It must not have been too long ago. Zain was still in his uniform. But he also held two steaming mugs, so he’d had enough time to make coffee.

“As soon as I could. God, weekend duty is boring. Stuck in a room by yourself for hours on end. Ugh.”

Je sais, Seb thought. He pulled his feet out from under Zain and sat up a little on the swing to reach for one of the mugs.

“Uh!” Zain went, pulling it away. “Mine. And they have like half a cup of sugar each. Yours is on the railing over there.”

Seb looked, and yes, there was a third mug balanced on the porch railing by his head. He carefully picked it up and took a sip while keeping Zain in the corner of his eye. After nearly a minute of silence aside from the creak of the swing, he said, “Um… shouldn’t you be asking why I slept out here?”

“There you go with your ‘should’s again,” Zain said, grinning and kicking his feet out to rest his heels on the floorboards with his ankles crossed. “Why aren’t you allowed to sleep on our new, very stylish, DIY porch swing? Is it the possibility of the eye-hooks falling out of the ceiling?” He tipped his head back to examine the ropes supporting the swing. “Yep, your skinny little butt is definitely putting a strain on them.”

“Shut up.”

They sipped coffee and listened to the waves rolling against the shore, and Seb restrained himself from crawling into Zain’s lap because that would just give the whole thing away.

Ten minutes later, Zain leaned down to put his second empty mug next to the first with a satisfied sigh. “Mm, hit the spot. So why’d you sleep on the porch swing?”

“I– what?”

“Why. Did you. Sleep. On the porch swing?” Zain repeated, smirking at him. “And don’t act so shocked. You can’t expect me to flip into Top Mode right after getting off twenty-four hours of duty. That’s just inhumane.”

Seb sputtered. “I-wh-it’s nice out here!”

“Sure is.”

“And… it was warm inside,” he went on, desperately. He could feel his treacherous cheeks turning pink.

“Uh-huh, and if you hadn’t told me what I should be asking, I might buy that excuse,” Zain replied with a laugh. “For someone who hates guns, you do shoot yourself in the foot a lot, brat.” He leaned over, grabbed, and yanked Seb to his side. It was a good thing Seb had also finished his coffee, or it would’ve spilled everywhere. “So?”

Seb turned his face and sunk his teeth into the insignia patch on Zain’s shirt sleeve. The rough fabric tasted bitter. “Je ne thais pas,” he lisped around it.

Zain swatted the side of his thigh, and he yelped.

“Want to really test the strength of this swing?” Zain asked. “Let’s see if it’ll hold up to a spanking.”

“No, I–! …I couldn’t sleep in that bed.”

“Something about the bed, huh? We’re getting warmer. Now I just need an adjective. Describe the bed to me.”

Seb swallowed hard. “It’s a king size.”

“Yeah?” Zain tilted his head to look at him as he puzzled it out. “You didn’t like all the extra room? From me not being there?”

“Your bed at the farm,” Seb said, his throat tight. “It was a king size too. I could never… I never slept in there while you were… away. I stayed in my room.”

“Which has a twin-size bed, like the mattress we used to make this swing.” Zain nodded. “But, habibi, I wasn’t deployed last night. I was just at the base, safe and sound.”

“I know,” said Seb. He pressed his face against the insignia patch again, letting it absorb the tears before they fell.

Zain lifted him into his lap and tightened his arms into velvet-covered steel bands as Seb tried to squirm away. “Shhh, habibi. It’s okay. I was lonely, too.”

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Title from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HoRkntoHkIE
A fairly accurate depiction of what Zain was doing at work: https://www.facebook.com/TheTerminalBoots/videos/990641661063873/ (stop at 2:43 to avoid strong language)