Even Lovers Drown

"Morning," Davy said.

Saylor pulled her eyes away from the scene outside her window and looked at him. The crowded parking lot held his attention, maneuvering through groups of people and around cars in search of a parking spot his main priority for the moment. His green eyes didn't deviate, didn't glance at her, to ensure he wasn’t greeting her before she had woken. Senses alert from abnormal waking hours, he probably heard her groan in the midst of returning to reality.

She hoped she hadn't made any noises while in the midst of her dream, and if any had slipped past her lips, she hoped they went unnoticed.

"Morning," Saylor replied. "What are we doing here?"

"Gas fill up and breakfast. You woke up just in time."

Attempting to pull off her older siblings sleeping patterns left her waking up later than the rest of the van. She tried to stay up while he drove, tried to keep him company, but fell asleep in the early hours of the morning. Sarah and Jenny, who slept within moments of crawling in the backseat, were awake, their incessant chatter undistinguishable noise from the front seat. And Davy, he never slept. As per usual, she was the last to wake.

But she woke on her own. Davy didn't need to disrupt a painful nightmare, didn't need to save her from the memories. For once, a nightmare didn't take advantage of her in her sleep-weakened state. Granted, the dream didn't start in the best way and may have been a fragment of a broader, painful memory, but the ending was amazing. The ending was what mattered.

Saylor was moving on, consciously and subconsciously.

"Are we going to make pancakes out of candy?" Saylor asked.

Hardly a joke or harsh criticism of the inadequate breakfast food. During their last convenient store breakfast, she and Davy planned on using candy to recreate breakfast food. For the sake of feeling like they were getting to eat a normal breakfast.

"If you want candy for breakfast, sure. But there are some fast-food places and a café in walking distance. Andy said we have an hour and a half to eat what we want."

"Coffee sounds delicious."

The morning called for a light breakfast. Coffee, a pastry, and a café-made sandwich for later. Greasy fast-food breakfast would slow her down and make her feel heavy. She enjoyed her occasional egg and cheese biscuit and a side of hash browns, but she could only eat so much. And after that dream, she craved a frilly coffee and small pastry, what used to be her "morning after" food before Katie's control on her diet.

Davy pulled into a parking spot. "I hope you're planning on making kissy face with Blake if you want her to skip on fast-food."

She'd give Blake all the kisses she could manage and not just for the sake of coffee. Saylor liked her. A lot. More than a lot. Blake was everything she wanted, everything she needed. Kisses were a tiny fraction of what she wanted to give her.

And she didn't need to waste those loving gestures to get Blake to do what she wanted. She won their bet. Blake owed her.

"A small sacrifice," Saylor said, pulling off her seatbelt and carefully exiting the van, the rest of the van's passengers doing the same. "By the way," she said, shutting the door. "Don't worry about unloading today. Blake's going to take your spot."

Not that Blake knew of those plans. Saylor would make her demand later. Blake agreeing wasn't an issue. Nothing of importance to keep her busy during unloading time, she had no choice. The ordeal wouldn't be miserable, Saylor would make sure of that. Casually unloading together, talking, joking, getting to spend time together, where was the bad in that?

And kissing. Lots of kissing.

Davy gave her a look, manually locking the van door. "Why?"

"Blake has to do what I want. Remember?" Saylor asked, walking around the hood of the car to meet Davy.

He knew about what occurred during their date. The bet, the kiss, how amazing Saylor felt, he knew it all. She made sure to supply every detail he felt he could demand.

"Doesn't mean she needs to take my spot," he said and rested an arm around her shoulder, leading her away from the van and into the crowded parking lot.

"You need a break. I figured I'd use my newfound power to get you time off."

Though she was sure he didn't mind the constant go of tour, he needed a break, even if the most she could supply was an hour or two. She knew this situation was different than most for him, having coworkers he had to lead for the first time, the purpose to alleviate his stress and work load. To some degree, the plan worked, but the added leadership position was a different monster for him to tackle. She'd exploit Blake's free labor to give him a little rest.

A smile spread on his face, dimple indenting his cheek at the action. "Thanks."

"Least I can do for everything you've done."

"You don't have to thank for that. I'm your brother. It's my job."

"Step-brother. Your job is to make my life hell." Her lips twisted in teasing smile. "You're not very good at it."

The evil stepsibling dynamic never flourished in their home, but they never felt like step-siblings. They grew up together, were a mere year apart, lived in the same household during childhood. Their fathers happened to be different. A minor technicality. They didn't fit the mold of step-siblings from horror stories, the ones gained through marriage meant to create chaos in a child's life. Their lives weren't a spin-off of Cinderella.

"Must have read the wrong handbook when you were born."

"There was a handbook on being an evil stepsibling? I missed the memo."

"Between watching you burst from mom's vagina and coloring a dinosaur, I forgot to mention it." He glanced ahead of them. "Look who's coming to say 'good morning.'"

Saylor followed his gaze, her eyes landing on the blonde-haired savior of her dream. She watched her full-lips form words in the direction of her band mates, the sway of her hips with each step towards them, the gentle curves accented by her tank top and skinny jeans. Fire smoldered in the pit of her stomach. Seeing Blake reawakened the passion brought on during sleep, and Saylor accepted the foreign surge of want. Given the chance, she would willingly act on it.

"If you two don't make out in the middle of the crowd, I'll be disappointed," Davy commented, slipping his arm from her shoulder.

"And you know how I hate to disappoint you."

"Why are you still next to me? Go kiss her."

Laughing, Saylor left Davy's side. The order, regardless of how appealing it sounded, was a joke. He wouldn't encourage her to take part in public displays of affection when her relationship was in its early stages.

But she didn't mind the idea of kissing Blake regardless of their surroundings. She quite liked it actually. How Blake would respond to kissing in the midst of crews and bands was questionable, and the various possible repercussions of acting on her urges were enough for Saylor to decide against greeting Blake with more than a "good morning" hug.

And she was prepared to restrain herself as she stopped a decent enough distance in front of Blake to give her greeting. Before she could speak, Blake's arms were around her waist, pressing their bodies together, and the lovely lips she craved were on hers. A firm kiss, ended earlier than necessary, and it managed to add fuel to her already strong desire.

Blake rested her forehead against Saylor's, their noses brushing, and kept her hold firm. Gorgeous blue eyes drove her deeper into unquenchable want, and the intimate hold warmed her skin.

"Good morning," Blake mumbled, breath tickling Saylor's lips.

"Morning."

The word sounded more like an airy whisper than the content mumble she intended, and a quick flash of her dream corrupted her thoughts. "Why are you so quiet? Scream for me." She held back the excited shudder her body wished to release, tried to calm her internal blaze. Now was not the time.

But, oh God, she wanted it.

"Get a room," Sage's voice cut through their embrace, dimming Saylor's fire to a smoldering heat.

Blake's friends were watching them, formulating teasing remarks to throw. Other people were watching them, strangers, acquaintances, gossiping merch girls. Saylor needed to reign in her revived hormones. She could celebrate the rediscovery of their existence later. In a private space. Preferably with Blake. For now, she needed to keep her body calm, remind herself the sexual experience was just a dream

It was just a dream. Just a dream. A vivid dream, but a dream nonetheless. Their reality didn't consist of sex, but she was ready to let Blake have her, ready to share intimacy. Because of her mind's desire to show her she was ready. Because of a dream.

"Don't let them do that," Hayden yelled, "Blake will get Saylor pregnant."

"Lesbians can't accidentally get pregnant," Davy retaliated, casually walking past the embracing couple to the group of band members.

"Who said it would be an accident?"

Sighing, Blake removed her forehead from Saylor's and loosened her hold, the smile dropping from her full lips. She kept close, kept their bodies gently pressed instead of destroying their connection.

"They ruin everything," she said.

"You're still here," Saylor said, "They haven't ruined anything."