Wouldn't it be nice to wake up in the morning to his lovely fiancé sleeping beside him, the sun shining into his room, the birds singing their glorious chorus outside the window in the promise of a brand new beautiful day? But no. No, right now he was to wake up in the middle of the night to the sounds of the bathroom sink spraying water all over the floor, sirens blaring outside in the street and a black dildo the size of a toddler's forearm propped up on the pillow next to his face.

And to add to all of that...he could a familiar guttural snoring from out in the living room. The knot deep at the pit of his stomach tightened, bitter fear flooding his body. Maybe he could pretend he was still asleep until he left.

He heard the door thumping open and let out a shuddering breath. Oh lord, was luck on his side? Was one of Trevor's saner friends here to take him out? Please God of all that was fair and merciful, let it be true...

"Floyd?" Wade's drug-addled voice trailed out, knocking something over that probably belonged to Debra with a resounding crash. He fought the urge not to sob into his pillow.

"Anyone home?" Wade yelled even louder. There was a snuffling snort that sent his heart into his mouth, terror rushing through his veins like poison. Don't wake him up, don't wake him up...

"...don't wake him up!" he was scrambling to his feet without thinking, towards his cousin in his only remaining pajamas not suspiciously stained or thrown out over the balcony. Wade looked over at him with eyes even more glazed over then usual, Floyd frantically clapping a hand over his mouth. His blank eyes crossed slightly – whatever he was on, it had completely fried what was left of his brain with all the power of a few dozen lightning bolts.

He glanced over at where Trevor lay sprawled across the couch, empty drink bottles littered around the floor, only moving to scratch at his crotch every now and again. He was murmuring something under his breath through the snores, something that sounded like; "no momma don't leave, clowns eat me momma..."

Floyd just stared as he put a tattooed arm over his eyes and grunted, shifting around in his sleep.

"Maaan," Wade slurred, pushing his hand away dazedly and staggering around. "I sure...am tired...maybe...maybe I'll go on the..."

He went down on his knees like a sack of bricks and thumped to the floor.

"Woah..." he said. "This ain't even comfortable."

He watched with horror as the dreadlocked meth-head got clumsily to his feet and stumbled over towards the couch.

"No!" he half screamed after his dimmer cousin, trying to grab him and pull him back. "Don't sleep on Trevor, he'll kill you!"

He felt like bursting into tears, Wade not paying him a lick of notice, lost in his own little world. He climbed onto the couch, already halfway to dreamland and snuggled happily into the man's chest like a cat. Trevor didn't even stir. It felt like he was having five heart attacks in a row, wheezing for breath, not knowing what the hell to do. He hovered over them, thinking maybe he could gently nudge his cousin to the ground without the other man noticing.

One wrong move though...

His jumped when Trevor let out a wet phlegmy snort, hand shooting up to tighten in Wade's rat-nest of hair. He was gonna wake up, he was gonna wake up, he was gonna...

"Fuck yeah," he murmured through the thick haze of alcohol-induced unconsciousness. "You love it, dontcha baby...?"

Oh God he had to get Wade away from him right now, he was going to get sodomized in his sleep, oh God have mercy...

Gulping up the flimsy threads of his courage, he grabbed the younger man by the shoulders and tried to pry him away. But Trevor's other arm shot out and curled around the meth-head's back, drawing him possessively closer.

"No," he said like a child having it's favorite toy taken away. "Mine..."

Before he had a chance to be truly crippled with terror, he gave his cousin a mighty tug and Trevor's grip slipped slightly, the two Heberts' crashing to the ground in a heap.

"The fuck...?" the older man sat up all at once, clutching at his head. Floyd felt like he might've just cracked a few ribs, pushing Wade onto the floor. The dreadlocked junkie just curled into a ball and stuck his thumb in his mouth, blissfully lost to the world.

"Fuckin' prick!" Trevor shouted, still half-drunk, grabbing a bottle and throwing it at the opposite wall. "I'll slit your goddamned throat...!"

Floyd was at his feet in a second, bounding for his bedroom like a rabbit from a striking snake.

He pressed his back against the door, whimpering, about two seconds from pissing himself. Trevor slammed into the wood, nearly snapping his spine in half.

"Lemme fuckin' in!" he yelled, kicking furiously at the door.

"Please don't kill me, please don't kill me, please, please, please..."


The door flew open, cracking into his head. Vision blurring immediately, he fell to the floor, the world evaporating into darkness around him.

When he came to about a minute later, Trevor was sitting on his bed, looking reasonably more calm, swigging from a new bottle of beer. The younger man sat up with a moan, his head throbbing a drumbeat that shot dull pain through the rest of his body.

"Well, look who decided to join us," the man slurred, hawking and spitting on the ground, making Floyd flinch.

"Man, what is..." he hiccuped, lost his train of thought and stared at the wall for half a minute. "What is your fuckin'...problem? I was havin'...the best dream..."

"I-I-I'm sorry sir, I didn't...I didn't mean..."

The other man brandished the bottle wildly in his direction, spraying him with beer.

"Shut the fuck up," he snapped, before belching and nearly falling over sideways. "There was someone...there with me man and then...they were gone...poof! Like magic or some shit. Even in my fuckin' dreams, everyone goes bye-bye Trevor, see you fuckin' later...!"

He blinked down at him edging slowly away across the floor. His rough face shifted into one of pure fury in a flick of a switch.

"Don't you dare fuckin' leave!" he shouted, sloshing beer all over him again, completely enraged.

"I'm not leaving!" Floyd bleated pitifully. "I'm just...I'm just...getting new pajamas...these are...these are just...just dirty that's all...!"

Trevor stared at him with narrowed eyes. Than after the tensest few minutes of Floyd's life, a strange, twisted grin curled across his face. He took another swig from his drink, pointing at something near the younger man's legs.

"There's some over there," he slurred. Floyd glanced down at where, to his mortification, his fiance's familiar pink pajamas were lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

"Oh...uh...th-th-that's...that's Debra's...I can't wear..."

"I said..." Trevor snarled and he cowered on the spot. "There's some over there. Put them on."

He grabbed them up and tried moving towards the door again.

"Uh...uh, uh...well I'll just...just go out to put them on then..."

He nearly whimpered when the other man started to growl deep in his chest like an animal.

"Okay, okay, okay...I won't go...I won't go anywhere, I promise..."

He got to his feet on shaking legs and then looked over at him. He was leaning back on his bed and staring him down, like he was a second from snapping his head off his neck.

"Uh...do you mind...looking...looking elsewhere...sir?"

Trevor fixed him with an even steelier glare. The younger man stared down at his feet.

"Might get some music playin' hot stuff..."

Floyd swallowed again, backing away into the wall. Maybe it wasn't Wade who was going to end up sodomized tonight...

Oh why couldn't he have woken up to the sweet smells of breakfast cooking in the kitchen and music drifting out from the radio and his beautiful fiancé popping her head around the door to tell him good morning? But no. The universe had offered him this fine alternative instead – doing a striptease for a man who looked like he couldn't decide whether he wanted to kill him now or later.

He deliberately fixed his eyes at the corner of the room, pulling his shirt over his head. Trevor let out a wolf-whistle.

"Work it for me sweetcheeks, c'mon..."

Floyd flushed and tried to undress as fast as possible. His hands faltered at the waistband of his pants, shoulders shooting up underneath his ears. Looking over, his stomach did something funny at the open leer on his face. He stared at a point in the ceiling again, before dropping his pajama bottoms to the floor, bending to quickly grab the pink pajamas off the floor.

He shot up like a rocket when he heard the low, growling sound from over by the bed. This was getting too weird, too fast...

"Hey I'm just givin' you a compliment," Trevor drawled, grinning like a wolf surveying it's next meal. "Can't a man appreciate some nice ass when he sees it?"

"I d-don't think that's exactly a-appropriate..." he protested, climbing as quickly as he could into the too-tight pajamas. The man cocked his head, looking him over and letting out a chuckle.

"Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes princess?"

"I'm not a princess!" he shot back, flushing even more furiously and that made the man laugh harder then ever.

"You're my pretty princess," Trevor smirked, opening his arms up wide. "C'mere..."

His stomach did that funny churning thing again, eyes darting towards the door like a trapped animal. The older man's face narrowed dangerously.

"No!" he nearly wailed, shrinking back against the wall in terror. "I don't consent!"

"Get your mind out of the fuckin' gutter," he told him, that wolfish grin growing wider. "Daddy just wants a hug."

His skin did an uncomfortable crawl over his bones. He pressed himself as far away from him as possible and the man's fingers clenched into claws in midair like her wanted to rip them down his face.

"For Christ's sake Floyd," he snapped, exasperation clear in his voice. "I've got that much fuckin' booze in me, I can only get it half-up anyway. Now c'mere before I break this bottle over your head..."

He took a wary step forward, wondering what the hell he'd done to deserve this. Had he been a Nazi in charge of processing kittens in a previous life? Was some vengeful force of nature trying to punish him by making him cuddle with a psychopath?

"I said c'mere, I ain't fuckin' tellin' you again!"

He scampered over with fright, paused for a second and then sat down stiffly beside him. Trevor's stench was enough to make his eyes water as he wrapped his arms around him and then pushed all his weight down against his side, forcing him to lie down against the mattress. Great. Now he was spooning with a psychopath.

"Isn't this nice?" he breathed against his neck, leg hooking over his hip and drawing him in uncomfortably close. This had to be the most awkward thing that had ever happened to him and maybe he could pretend it was Debra...oh God if Debra could see him now, she'd never forgive him, he was the most terrible fiancé in the world, he was gonna lose her forever and never have a girlfriend again in his life, what cruel God was responsible for this, what cruel God thought this was funny...?

"The fuck you crying for?" the man mumbled drunkenly, warm breath tickling his skin. "We're having a nice fuckin' moment..."

Floyd could only snivel in reply.

It was gonna be a long goddamned night...

Hours later, the faint light of dawn trickled weakly into the room, a new set of sirens wailing in the distance. Faintly, he heard Wade in the living room trying to sit up and falling over again, not before shouting out a cheery, "morning all!"

Trevor had fallen asleep five minutes into their little spooning session. Each time Floyd tried to make his escape, the wiry arms would tighten, almost crushing his ribs and the man would murmur under his breath; "fuckin' stay," like he was scolding a misbehaving puppy.

He thought maybe he'd been awake so long, he'd broken through the barrier of tiredness and slipped into the hallucination stage. Maybe it really was Debra he was awkwardly cuddling with. Maybe it was her warm body pressed up...


What was that sticking into his back? Oh God, please don't let it be...oh it was.

He definitely wasn't spooning with a woman.

He tried desperately to squirm out under his arms, the bed creaking. Trevor stirred, growling with frustration.

"Morning to you too, princess..." he said lowly into his ear. "Rise and fucking shine..."

Floyd's thinly strung patience seemed to implode in on itself and warp his mind into finely processed mush.

"I've been up all night!" he half screamed in despair. "And...and...something else has risen and you're sticking it in my back!"

"Oh for Christ's sake, it's perfectly fucking natural Floyd!"

He felt like in about two seconds, streams of his mind mush would start pouring out of his ears like oatmeal.

"I'm sorry!" he whimpered back. "It's just very har...very difficult getting any sleep what with these...new arrangements that have uh...come up..."

Trevor chuckled into his neck.

"I mean...I mean this new sleeping routine is making me very...very uncomfortable...and it's uh...disturbing my s-s-sleeping habits..."

"You weren't even awake all night, sugar," he said, casually slipping his hand under his shirt like it was the most normal thing to do in the world. "You started having nightmares about four, woke me fucking up..."

The younger man went very still at his words and Trevor picked it up immediately. He went in for the kill like a lion after a gazelle.

"What was it?" he demanded roughly. "Tell me."

"I...I don't...I don't really want to..."

"Tell me or I'll rip your fucking tongue out of your goddamned head...!"

Floyd breathed in hard, trying to keep the hysterical tears at bay

"You're gonna laugh at me if I tell you..." he snivelled under his breath.

"Oh this is gonna be fucking good..." Trevor crowed back. The thought of biting the other man's fingers to make his escape suddenly sounded very appealing...

"You can't build up the suspense and then not fucking tell," Trevor hissed into his ear; "I swear to God, I'll tear your cock if you don't tell me in five fucking seconds..."

It felt like his mind mush was disintegrating into powder, replaced with thousands upon thousands of cartwheeling Mr. Raspberry Jams and accompanied by circus music with flashing lights. Goddamn sleep deprivation was a bitch. He started to laugh at it despite himself, wondering whether he'd been driven insane...

"I've...I've had...them..." he couldn't finish the sentence for a few seconds, the giggles taking him over; "forever and ever...these...these dreams about, about...this spider woman on the ceiling...spider woman like...like spiderman!"

The hilarity of it all was too much and he dissolved into uncontrollable laughter. It went on for so long, tears starting rolling down his cheeks and then he was laughing and sobbing at the same time, insides seething with the force of it.

"You've fucking flipped man," Trevor said into his neck, sounding quite pleased.

"No, no that's not even it though," he heaved, twisting around. "The spider woman...she turns into a normal one and she goes down to the bed...and lovemaking starts happening! Lovemaking, Trevor!"

"I wish my nightmares went like that..."

Floyd burst into fresh peals of laughter.

"No, you wouldn't...coz...coz guess what? Suddenly bang! Her...her...ladyparts burst and start gushing out pus and blood everywhere! Everywhere!"

"That's happened to me a few times.." Trevor said, other hand shifting worryingly down his stomach. "Never refrigerate my man, the rot sets in after a day or two..."

"But-but-but...she's laughing and laughing and it isn't funny!" Floyd keened, his knees flying up, trapping the exploring hand before it could descend down any further. "I wouldn't be laughing...if it was me...but then...but then...her...her ladyparts clamp...clamp down on my..."

"Little soldier?"

"Yeah..." he said, trying to ignore the fingers now tracing patterns across his skin under his shirt; "...and it sucks out...sucks out all my guts and blood from my...from my little soldier...until I'm just a white floppy bag of skin...and she keeps on laughing...and laughing...but it isn't funny."

Trevor paused to consider this for a few seconds and Floyd went into a blank eyed trance, staring down at the man's tattooed arms.

"I think it's hilarious," he finally murmured. "But it's making me fucking horny."

"But what does it mean?"

"Probably," he said in a voice so low, the words rumbled deep down in his chest. "That you're not into chicks, sweetheart..."

Floyd felt a shiver tremble through his body.

"No, that's not right..." he said a little shakily back. "Cause I have...have this homosexual nightmare as well...and it's really bad too..."

"Really?" Trevor said, curiosity piqued. "Is it just as fucked as the first one?"

"Yeah," Floyd breathed, although he didn't know why he had the sudden urge to whisper like they were kids at a slumber party. "It was...terrible...but no spiderman in it though...I'm just...in my bed again...and this huge scary guy, huge...like...like...massive..."

"Did he have a dick that explodes too?"

"No...no...no exploding...exploding soldiers...no...he kicks down my door...bang...and..."

"He doesn't ask for consent..."

Floyd swallowed a little and nodded.

"But...but his soldier is like the size a tree...and...and it tears my guts out and there's blood gushing everywhere and I'm screaming and my guts are hanging out and...and...and there's fecal matter too...and not just a little, like it's flooding the whole room...but he doesn't go 'oh gross why is there fecal matter everywhere?' He just...keeps it up, until he...rips a huge hole in my stomach and I bleed and...defecate everywhere...and die. What does that mean?"

There was a brief silence.

"It means you need to see a therapist Floyd," Trevor answered, before bursting out laughing. "That sounds like it'd be the sickest movie ever. I'd watch the shit out it...no pun intended."

The younger man giggled uneasily. The man rolled away, lying down flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling, grinning from ear to ear. Floyd moved around uncomfortably, muscles stiff from being stuck in one position for hours.

"That was the best pillow talk ever," Trevor said, glancing over at him, the wide smile plastered across his face. "No seriously dude, that totally brightened up my week."

Floyd just stared at him – the room was flooded with bright morning light and he blinked in it blearily. He felt strange...like he'd shown Trevor something he shouldn't have. Shivering again, he drew his knees to his chest, curling his arms around them tight.

"No...no worries?"

The older man gave him a pat on the ass and got up, boots clumping onto the floor.

"Stay right there, I'll be back," he told him as he stood and stretched out his joints. He looked over at him. "I mean it. Don't fucking move."

Floyd nodded again, head blank, eyes glassy.

"You run off anywhere and I swear to Christ, I..." he paused in mid-sentence. "I won't fuck you to death with a tree-trunk...I'll just punch you or something."

And with that he walked off, chuckling to himself all the way out the front door. The younger man goggled after him, before realising he was shaking uncontrollably, breath caught and trembling in his throat. He let out the choked sob that had been caught deep down in his chest, before reaching over to pull his blankets over his head like a cocoon. He listened to the sounds of him walking down the stairs and then the growl of his car starting up, but the shaking refused to lesson.

The last thought that crossed his mind before falling asleep, was that it was probably the nicest thing Trevor had ever said to him.