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Eliot clicked off the tv, rather disappointed in the game- it hadn’t even been a close call, the other team didn’t seem prepared and were outclassed by a wide margin. Hardison had given up an hour ago in disgust and went to bed, but Eliot wanted to see it through to the end. Now that he had, he was left with a vague wish to buy the other team and teach them what true training was about. Clicking off the apartment’s lights, he joined his partner in bed and dozed off to the feeling of a warm body unconsciously cuddling into his. Hours later though, he was jolted awake and automatically searched for a threat; harsh panting met his ears, and he clicked on the bedside lamp to look at Hardison.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice rough from sleep even though he was fully awake. Eliot reached over to stroke Hardison’s cheek and frowned as his fingers came away damp with sweat. As if the gentle action broke some kind of spell, Hardison abruptly rolled over to grab onto Eliot, desperately fisting a handful of undershirt. Tremors shivered through the larger frame.

“I dreamed that I was back *there*, and when I woke up it was dark, and I couldn’t tell if I was here or still buried,” Hardison managed to mumble through his fear and embarrassment. His night terrors had faded out in the months following his being buried alive, but Eliot knew that nightmares could bring back even long-dead fears and make them seem as real as when they’d happened.

Pulling Hardison closer, he could feel the tremors fading away as reality settled in to chase the dream’s ghosts away. “You’re right here, with me, and I’ll always be here,” he assured. “Darkness is just the absence of light, and with me here I’ll always be the scariest thing in the dark.”

Hardison laughed a bit at the old joke, one he’d heard on nights when he woke up screaming, thinking that he was still in the coffin. “Boogey man ain’t got nothing on you,” he joked back. Now that he was properly awake, he *knew* that the silk he felt around him was just their sheets, not the coffin’s lining, and the dark seemed less oppressive, less strangling.

Deciding that a little distraction was in order, because the brain could be tricked into forgetting fear while putting the adrenaline already released to a better use, Eliot let his comforting hand wander down Hardison’s back to stroke at the soft skin right above his boxers. A stirring against his thigh was all the confirmation he needed as he moved in to capture Hardison’s lips in a kiss. The hand which had his shirt in a death grip suddenly released to tangle in his hair and pull him closer, and Eliot grinned into the kiss. “You know, if you’re still too afraid, we can stop,” he teased when they broke apart to breathe.

Brown eyes squinted menacingly and the hand in his hair tightened. “You stop now and I’m afraid that I’ll have to beat up the ‘scariest thing in the dark’, you understand me?” Eliot simply chuckled and shuffled them so that he could shove Hardison’s boxers down and follow them, ignoring the tug as Hardison took a second to catch on and let go of his hair. The hand was back a few seconds later, scrabbling to catch hold of his shoulder, as he unceremoniously engulfed Hardison’s erection and set a fast pace. They could read each other like an open picture book after being together so long, and Eliot knew that right now Hardison wanted blinding lust and overwhelming sensations rather than slow teasing and playing around.

Hardison mumbled something and released Eliot’s shoulder to push at his hip, and Eliot obligingly shifted his balance so that he could twist his hips around. Granted access, Hardison didn’t waste any time freeing Eliot from his boxers, though due to their positioning he was limited to stroking and squeezing his partner rather than returning the blowjob. Eliot couldn’t care less, though, as he focused on reading Hardison’s body cues to know when to speed up and bring him to a wringing orgasm. From hard-won experience, Hardison had released Eliot’s cock just before he came, and Eliot quickly finished himself off while Hardison worked on rebooting his brain. “That’s cheating , you know,” Hardison managed to pant, and Eliot didn’t bother lifting his head off Hardison’s thigh while he grinned mischievously.

“You can owe me one,” he promised. They caught their breath for a few minutes before Hardison reluctantly stirred, twitching his leg to let Eliot know that this pillow was about to disappear, and shuffled off to the bathroom to clean up, dropping his boxers in the laundry bin on his way past. Eliot finished stripping, thankful that his shirt and boxers had borne the brunt of the mess, and was naked by the time Hardison returned to hand him the damp washcloth. Once they were both clean and settled back into bed, Eliot promised, “If you need anything to help with the nightmares, just let me know and I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Hardison gently kissed the bit of neck he could reach, as they were tangled together again, and smiled at the goose bumps he raised. “All I need is your love,” he said as he squirmed a bit to make himself more comfortable.

“You’ll always have my love,” Eliot tightened his hold for a moment in a hug, and lay there listening as Hardison dropped off to sleep. He allowed himself to lightly doze through the night, remaining on guard to catch and break the dream cycle before they woke Hardison if any nightmares returned. He always found it amusing that getting little sleep during training had always left him wishing to slaughter the instructor, yet he was more than willing to sacrifice sleep to look after his lover. Even having his shoulder drooled on by the aforementioned lover wasn’t quite as bad as he let on, though he’d never let Hardison know that or the man would be insufferably smug.