Thirteen Seconds Interlude 1
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal knowledge about their private lives.
Author's Notes: To send author comments and feedback, please email nsaphrodite@outlook.com
Thirteen Seconds
Chapter Text
Interlude I
It's completely dark- pitch black. He can't see anything. It's completely silent. There's no white noise. But he knows all too well that he's stuck living in this bad, bad dream as Michelle Joy's voice starts vibrating through the air.
I bought a ticket to your show
Did you see me, did you know
I was standing in the back row
With the lights down low
He feels the coldness underneath his fingertips. He explores the hard and smooth edges.
I couldn't think of the right words
Now it's just too late
Now you're somebody's baby
So I'll be on my way
He feels the warmth, the silkiness sliding across his fingers.
I been living in a bad dream
I been living in a bad, bad dream
He feels sick to his stomach from the metallic scent wafting his senses, threatening to expunge bile from within.
I wish that somebody would wake me
Don't like this feeling, won't you shake me
`Cause any more might break me
And you'll never know
His heart is racing, beating a thousand miles a minute. If he doesn't wake up soon, he may just die in this nightmare.
I couldn't think of the right words
Now it just too late
Now you're somebody's baby
So I'll be on my way
He starts counting the numbers. 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12.13.
Suddenly there's a spark of light, revealing golden brown eyes gleaming brightly at him.
"Travis!"
Travis's eyes shoot open. Patrick is standing before him, dressed in a white cotton v-neck, grey and white flannel pajamas bottoms, and a charcoal grey terry cloth robe. Patrick is holding him. Travis's knees give in, and he falls. Patrick catches him before he hits the ground. Their eyes meet and Travis holds his gaze, drawn to those soft golden brown eyes with speckles of green and grey staring back at him.
"Travis, are you okay?" Patrick asks; concern is laced in his voice.
Travis shrugs Patrick off. His head is pounding right now. He rubs his temple, trying to will away the pain. His pain soon subsides and he's now more alert. Panic rises in his chest. "What the fuck is going on here?" He mutters to himself. He's standing outside of Patrick's house. He catches a glimpse of his watch. It's a quarter past 2 am and he's standing outside of fuckin' Patrick Mahomes's house. How the hell was he able to get from his house to Patrick's house while perpetually stuck in a convoluted bad dream is beyond his comprehension.
"Did I just sleepwalk over here?"
"I don't know." Patrick shrugs his shoulders. "I just heard the doorbell. Came out to check and found you standing outside my door."
"You heard the doorbell at two in the morning and you came out to check on it?"
"Yeah."
"Are you fuckin' stupid?!"
"Excuse me?" Patrick is taken aback.
"Patrick," Travis says, softening the tone of his voice. He grabs the back of the boy's neck to pull him closer. "Please don't do that anymore." Patrick furrows his eyebrows as confusion splays across his face. "There are a lot of crazy people out there, Patrick. So please don't do that anymore. Call the cops instead."
"At two in the morning for a ringing doorbell?" Patrick asks, incredulously. "Travis, are you okay?"
"No." Travis shakes his head. "I haven't really slept in over a week. When I do manage to fall asleep, I wake up minutes later drenched in sweats and my heart is racing so fast I think I'm going to have a heart attack. I keep having this nightmare every fuckin' time I close my eyes, I'm afraid to fall asleep now. Tonight's no different. And somehow I got into my car and came to your house. Something is a little fucked up right now with me."
Patrick tries to sympathize with him, but he doesn't quite understand. He glances over his shoulder. The light is turned on inside his house. He sighs in exasperation.
"Patrick!" Brittany calls out from inside.
"Comin', babe!" Patrick yells in response and then returns his focus on Travis. "Don't go anywhere," Patrick tells Travis. "I'll be right back."
Travis keeps rubbing his temple as he leans against Patrick's house for support. A couple of minutes pass by and Patrick hasn't returned. Travis is so tired yet so wide awake. He steps away from the house to make his way back to his car parked clumsily on Patrick's front yard when the door opens. Patrick quickly grabs Travis before he falls forward. Patrick helps Travis to his car. He opens the passenger door and deposits Travis there before climbing into the driver's seat. During the car ride, Travis rests his head against the car window. He counts to thirteen, taking deep breaths between each number. He closes his eyes and opens them to gazing golden brown eyes against the backdrop of flashing lights.
I been living in a bad dream
I been living in a bad, bad dream
Sleepwalking through a sad scene
I been living in a bad, bad dream
Somehow the bad dream stops replaying in his mind and he's finally able to sleep- the first time in over a week. He wakes up next to the warmth of Patrick's body pressed against his. Their bodies are entangled. Patrick's leg is stretched across Travis's lower body. The fiery hardness between Patrick's legs pressing against his thigh feels so good to him. He doesn't want to get up. He closes his eyes and hums for thirteen seconds before falling back asleep peacefully. When he wakes up, again, hours later, the side of the bed in which Patrick lay hours before is now cold to the touch. He looks up at the clock hanging over his bed. It's now thirteen minutes past noon. Travis can't believe that he slept over ten hours- slept soundly and peacefully for at least ten hours. He glances at his nightstand. There's a prescription bottle for Ambien ordered by the team's physician that is filled today. He gets up slowly from bed and ambles into the kitchen where he finds a gift basket with an assortment of soothing and calming teas, aromatic candles and body oils. A card is tucked inside.
"Sleep well. Feel better. Love you, Travis-Patrick."
It's very genuinely sweet of Patrick, but Travis wishes instead he can have Patrick lying next to him every night so he can peacefully sleep through the night.
Chapter Text
nsaphrodite@outlook.com