Beautiful Deception

Hands. Everywhere. Exploring. Touching.

My stomach convulses and I sit up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. Even though I'm shivering, the sheets on the bed I'm laying on are wet with sweat. I take in shallow breaths, trying to fight the serious urge to vomit. My hands find my clammy cheeks as I look around the room. It clicks instantly that this is not the room Nick and I share, and it frightens me a little bit.

I want to scramble out of the bed, but doing so would cause my headache to worsen or my stomach to roil. I look down at myself. I'm wearing an oversized t-shirt that's stuck to my skin with nothing underneath. I shudder and pull the covers closer to me. I have absolutely no idea what's going on. How I got here. Why I'm wearing this. Why I feel so sick.

I try to remember what had happened previously, but my tired mind is only drawing blurry images. It's like having a dream that you can only remember tidbits of. I have no recollection of what happened after Nick told me we needed to take a break...

I almost break down and cry at that, but I'm much too scared to. I try moving around a bit, but my arms and legs are stiff and there is a low throbbing in my pelvic area. I lift the covers a bit. Something sticky has dried around my thighs.

That does it for me.

I lean over the bed and retch, dry heaving since my stomach is empty. My stomach convulses, my throat burns, and I sob uncontrollably. Shivers race up my spine, and for a second I wonder if this is what it feels like when you're dying. If it is, I'd just like to die now.

I don't sit up when I'm done, I just hang there. I'm too exhausted to reach up and pull the covers around my shivering body. I faintly hear the door open, and my head lifts slightly. I'm so dizzy that my eyesight is a bit blurry, but I can make out Brian's form. I almost cry in delight when I do. Brian, someone I know. Though he's not my most favorite person in the world, maybe he knows what's wrong with me.

As he comes toward me, I weakly reach out to him. "Please... help me," my voice comes out pitifully, I can barely get it above a whisper.

Brian kneels down in front of me and his hand brushes away the hair matted to my skin. The heat radiating from his hand is wonderful. I lean into his touch, and his lips pull into a sympathetic smile.

"You're so beautiful," his plump, pink lips whisper as they come into contact with my neck.

"Riley," Brian takes my face in his hands. "What do you remember?" He asks urgently.

I shake my head weakly. I don't remember anything. "N-nothing." You're so beautiful... "A dream. Brian, where am I?"

He sighs in relief, and begins to wipe away the tears streaming down my face. "You're in my room, love, and it's okay. You... you collapsed... on the couch last night. I got worried."

I am in Brian's bed! Not that it bothers me too much due to my current condition. At least he was looking out for me.

"W-why did I?"

Brian shrugs. "I don't know, sweet heart, but you had a rough day yesterday. I guess it all just caught up to you."

Brian stands up slightly and sits down next to me on the bed. I slump into his arms, still feeling too weak to hold myself up.

His arms wrap around my waist, lifting my body up, bring our lower bodies closer together.

I gasp, and Brian's eyes flicker toward me.

"What's wrong?" He asks hurriedly.

"I don't... my dream."

"What was it about? If you remember."

He pushes into me, and it feels amazing. Almost too amazing. He's huge, nearly too much for me to take. But, at the same time, the feeling nearly pushes me over the edge.

The humiliation of the situation washes over me. I just had a sex dream while sleeping in Brian's room. My cheeks flare up in embarassment. How do I tell him that without seeming like a complete creep?

"Well, I was having..." I stop short, and instead use the index finger of my right hand and the thumb and index finger of my left to simulate a crude gesture of what I wanted to say.

Brian chuckles and kisses the top of my head. "Oh really?" He questions in amusement. "Was it good?"

I don't know how to answer that so I keep my mouth shut. Instead, I curl up into a ball, still shaking from the chills prickling my arms and legs. It's a horrible feeling, being so cold while sweating up a storm.

Suddenly, there's a loud rap on the door. I jump, startled, my fingers grasping at Brian's shirt. He just laughs and pries them off.

"Come in," he calls nonchalantly, not releasing his hold of me.

The door creaks open and Nick pokes his head in cautiously. When his eyes land on Brian- or better yet, me- they widen in shock. "What happened here?" Nick demands. I know it must look bad to him. Me dripping with sweat and curled up against Brian.

"Nothing, man. She's not feeling well," Brian answers immediately. When I visibly shake with shivers, Nick's hardened expression becomes one of worry.

"Oh, God. What's wrong, Riley?" Nick breathes, rushing into the room. Part of me nearly wants to cry at the fact that he still cares about me. Another part of me wants to cry because my emotions seem to be a little messed up.

"I-I f-feel so... sick," I whimper quietly, not even sure how to describe what I'm feeling.

Nick takes my limp hand in his, before placing his hand on my forehead as if to check if I have a fever.He gazes at me with eyes full of concern before turning to Brian. "Thanks for checking on her, I'll take it from here." He says it almost possessively, like he doesn't want another guy taking care of me. Maybe there is hope after all.

Brian raises his hands in surrender. "Look, man, I'm just...-" He's cut off by his ringing cell phone. Nick looks content when Brian gently places my body back on the bed so he can get up. I almost miss Brian's comforting touch, which really surprises me. I thought I was supposed to hate him.

As Nick sits on the edge of the bed and begins asking me my symptoms, I vaguely hear Brian answering his phone. "Nathaniel, my man, it's been ages... What's up?"

Nick concludes that I might have a fever. As he gets up to go get a thermometer, a clean pair of pajamas, and a glass of water, he stumbles over something. Ducking down to grab it, he stands up with a small pill bottle in his hand. He reads the label, eyebrows raising in surprise. I watch him curiously, though I really could care less about whatever is in there. Nick pops open the lid and spills a few small, pretty colored pills into his hand.

He furrows his brows and glances at me again before silently exiting the room.