Sleep Aid
Chapter the first
Insomnia. It was a bittersweet tango and I had the unfortunate luck of being chosen as its dance partner. Now if only I knew how to dance…
Here I lay listening to the hollow sounds of the dead of night; the sweet nothings that accompany two in the morning. My only light source was a full moon whose light filtered through the tour bus windows and cast soft shadows against all that stood in the way of its gentle beams.
In the bunk above me slept Andy snoring loudly. He had what I call “roller coaster snoring.” Given 10 minutes and he’ll be quiet. Give it 20 minutes and he’ll be back to the same volume as he is now. It’s just a wild roller coaster of loud and soft. It was annoying but I didn’t want to do anything about it for fear of it turning into last time. Apparently Andy doesn’t like pillows stuffed in his mouth when he sleeps. Go figure.
“That’s not gonna fit in my pants.”
I looked over to the bunk parallel to mine and see Joe, once again, talking in his sleep.
“Noooo. I want you in my pants.”
I jump out of my bunk and slip over to my suitcase.
Searching.
Searching..
Searching…
Found it!
Tiptoe to Joe’s bunk. Press ‘record’. I like to record Joe’s late night conversations for futureblackmail reference.
“Who are you talking to Joe?” I ask quietly.
“Only the best, sweetest person on the planet.”
“Do you like this person?”
“Of course.”
“Who do you like?”
“Mmm. Andy,” Joe mumbled before rolling onto his stomach and burying his face into his pillow.
Jackpot! This is perfect.
After tossing the voice recorder onto my bunk, I turn to the sleeping form that lay below Joe’s bunk.
Patrick lay on his back sleeping soundly. His chest rose and fell to the tune of his breathing. Soft lips, parted ever so slightly, let quiet snores leave them, which clashed with the loud, brash snores that Andy emitted. Every so often a small moan or a tiny grunt would leave his lips and permeate the otherwise quiet air around him. I wish I could bottle every sound, every snore and grunt, to keep always.
Patrick’s body tensed, as did mine. He gave a small moan, rolled onto his side, and opened his eyes slowly, as if reluctant to open them at all, and caught my silent stares. His eyes, now bleary with sleep, were slightly cloudy which opposed the eyes that were once clear and bright.
“Pete?” Patrick asked wearily, “What time is it? Why are you up?”
“Can’t sleep,” I mumbled sheepishly.
Succumbing to the urge, Patrick yawned widely then gave me a small smile. He raised the edge of the blanket, offering me an invitation to climb in, “Come on.”
I climbed in after Patrick scooted over. After he lowered the blanket to cover my body, Patrick hooked an arm around my back and brought me to him until my head was resting on his chest; his rhythmic heartbeat reverberated in my ear.
“First step to sleep is to close your eyes,” he whispered in my ear, chuckling a bit.
I buried my face in his chest and closed my eyes, enjoying his scent. I focused on the lulling rhythm of Patrick’s heartbeat and the way his hand lazily twisted and played with my hair. Pretty soon my mind clouded and my muscles relaxed. Before I drifted off I felt Patrick press his lips to my forehead and whisper in my ear, “Sweet dreams Petey.”
Here I lay listening to the hollow sounds of the dead of night; the sweet nothings that accompany two in the morning. My only light source was a full moon whose light filtered through the tour bus windows and cast soft shadows against all that stood in the way of its gentle beams.
In the bunk above me slept Andy snoring loudly. He had what I call “roller coaster snoring.” Given 10 minutes and he’ll be quiet. Give it 20 minutes and he’ll be back to the same volume as he is now. It’s just a wild roller coaster of loud and soft. It was annoying but I didn’t want to do anything about it for fear of it turning into last time. Apparently Andy doesn’t like pillows stuffed in his mouth when he sleeps. Go figure.
“That’s not gonna fit in my pants.”
I looked over to the bunk parallel to mine and see Joe, once again, talking in his sleep.
“Noooo. I want you in my pants.”
I jump out of my bunk and slip over to my suitcase.
Searching.
Searching..
Searching…
Found it!
Tiptoe to Joe’s bunk. Press ‘record’. I like to record Joe’s late night conversations for futureblackmail reference.
“Who are you talking to Joe?” I ask quietly.
“Only the best, sweetest person on the planet.”
“Do you like this person?”
“Of course.”
“Who do you like?”
“Mmm. Andy,” Joe mumbled before rolling onto his stomach and burying his face into his pillow.
Jackpot! This is perfect.
After tossing the voice recorder onto my bunk, I turn to the sleeping form that lay below Joe’s bunk.
Patrick lay on his back sleeping soundly. His chest rose and fell to the tune of his breathing. Soft lips, parted ever so slightly, let quiet snores leave them, which clashed with the loud, brash snores that Andy emitted. Every so often a small moan or a tiny grunt would leave his lips and permeate the otherwise quiet air around him. I wish I could bottle every sound, every snore and grunt, to keep always.
Patrick’s body tensed, as did mine. He gave a small moan, rolled onto his side, and opened his eyes slowly, as if reluctant to open them at all, and caught my silent stares. His eyes, now bleary with sleep, were slightly cloudy which opposed the eyes that were once clear and bright.
“Pete?” Patrick asked wearily, “What time is it? Why are you up?”
“Can’t sleep,” I mumbled sheepishly.
Succumbing to the urge, Patrick yawned widely then gave me a small smile. He raised the edge of the blanket, offering me an invitation to climb in, “Come on.”
I climbed in after Patrick scooted over. After he lowered the blanket to cover my body, Patrick hooked an arm around my back and brought me to him until my head was resting on his chest; his rhythmic heartbeat reverberated in my ear.
“First step to sleep is to close your eyes,” he whispered in my ear, chuckling a bit.
I buried my face in his chest and closed my eyes, enjoying his scent. I focused on the lulling rhythm of Patrick’s heartbeat and the way his hand lazily twisted and played with my hair. Pretty soon my mind clouded and my muscles relaxed. Before I drifted off I felt Patrick press his lips to my forehead and whisper in my ear, “Sweet dreams Petey.”