From the Ashes

Who: Gabe and William
When: The wee hours of December 31st
Where: Gabe's rooms
What: Blood magic and dreams

William hit the bookshelf hard. He moaned into Gabe's mouth, already pulling at the heavy encumbrance of Gabe's robes to get to the skin and muscle beneath. Gabe's hand was around his throat - oh, he knew this dream, this memory, knew it well - and he squeezed as William pushed up against him, panting. William's head dropped back against the shelf and he inhaled raggedly, spots dancing in front of his eyes at the lack of oxygen, his hips still rocking forward, riding the bulge beneath Gabe's robe. "Don't stop," he gasped, afraid of the moment Gabe would pull away and leave him here, aching and incomplete.

The library swirled into gray around them, resolving into his rooms, candlelit and shadowed. His rooms, his bed, his door which Gabe currently had him pressed up against; much better for their purposes, certainly much more convenient than a library shelf. Gabe's hand tightened around his throat, and there was a strange sibilant hiss in his voice when he answered, "Oh, I won't." William opened his eyes and saw Gabe smiling, sharpened snake's teeth gleaming and a droplet of bright blood dripping from one pointed fang. William choked at the pressure, lungs screaming for air, twisting to get away in vain as Gabe leaned closer and hissed, "This is payback."

William woke up. It took a while for the room to distinguish itself from the darkness of night, for his eyes to adjust and his heart to stop pounding. He was soaked with sweat, one hand clutching the damp sheet covering his mattress. He got out of bed and set the candles alight, trying to chase away the lingering shadows and sick feeling left from the nightmare. He would have a cup of tea. Do some reading, visit the bath, maybe head down to breakfast early if he was still awake. Falling back asleep right now seemed impossible, with the memory of suffocation crowding in on him in his silent room. He could breathe perfectly fine, he told himself. It was just a dream. He could always go to - not to Gabe, he would ask too many questions - but to Bob, ask about a dreamless sleep potion. Bob had told him...had said...

Standing, William Summoned his night robe from the closet and belted it tightly around him. His hands shook slightly when he tied the knot, but it was just the claustrophobia of the room, the lateness of the hour, the idea that...

He grabbed the stack of parchment and headed for the dungeons before he could talk himself out of it. There was someone he needed to see, whether either of them liked it or not.