A Hunger to Share ( Book Three)

 
Artyom

Artyom woke up to an empty bed. It wasn't new but it was still a sad sight. It meant James was fighting insomnia and nightmares again.  

The clock on his bedside table told him it was 4 a.m. Artyom used the bathroom then walked silently to the living room.

James was curled up on the couch with a cushion, watching TV, the sound turned down. He was shirtless, wearing only soft blue sweetpants. His hair was ruffled, fingers mindlessly running through it.

Smiling softly to himself, Artyom took a picture of his beautiful lover then sat beside him on the couch. "What are you watching?"

"Oh shit." James screamed and almost fell off the couch.

Artyom laughed, cought him and helped him sit up. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"Well you did Asshole." James glared at him and punched his chest playfuly.

"I thought you heard me come in." Artyom held up his hands in surrender.

James rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was lost in my head."

"What can I do to make you feel better?" Artyom touched his stubbled cheek softly. "Hot chocholate?"

James hugged him. "I really missed you."

Artyom hugged him back. "I'm here love. Right here."

"I know. I just ... had a really bad nightmare." James mumbled against in his neck.

"I told you to wake me up when that happens." Artyom ran his fingers through his hair.

James pulled back. "You've had enough sleepless nights because of me."

Artyom sighed. "James, love..."

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

"But you're not alone in this. Why are you pushing me away again?"

"I'm not. I'm fine. It was just a nightmare."

Artyom rubbed both hands through his face and stood up. "Ok. I won't bother you."

"Please don't be angry with me." James pleaded, voice soft and broken.

Artyom's heart ached for him. "I'm angry with myself."

James grabbed his hand and pulled him back on the couch. "Don't be. You know this isn't on you."

Artyom laid his forehead against James's shoulder. "Doesn't feel that way."

"You make it bearable. It would be much worse if it weren't for you."

"I don't think I'm doing anything worthwhile."

"You are. Believe me you are." James held his face in his hands and kissed him on the mouth. "I love you."

It wasn't soft like James's usual kisses. It was hugry and demanding. Artyom kissed him back hesitantly, not sure if they could continue. James's hand traveled under his shirt, caressing Artyom's skin. He shivered and pulled back.

"What is it? Don't you want me anymore?" James looked devestated.

"I'll always want you, love."

"Then why does it feel like I'm forcing myself on you?" James looked ashen. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I would never..."

"You're not. I want this. I'm just not sure if we should do this right now. We shouldn't rush it."

James's shoulders slumped with relief. "Oh. For a second I thought... It's been four month Artyom. I miss being close to you like this. I miss making love to you."