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What wakes Jay up is the sunlight, bright and on his face.
It takes him a few minutes to notice that the light is not natural. It's bright but not warm, cutting through his corneas, vapid and hollow. A similar feeling to dread washes over him, but it's quick and crude, too complex for him to attribute any meaning to it.
He tries to get up, but a weight on one of his arms stops him from completing the action. A soft complaint follows. It brings Jay back to reality—Soleum. They had fallen asleep together yesterday, as they have often the past few days.
While one of his arms is trapped underneath Soleum's head, the other is casually slung over his waist. It's been a while since Jay felt anyone's warmth like this, so close and so defenceless. Soleum is a blotch of vivid, pure color on Jay's otherwise achromatic routine. There's a certain despair clinging to him, weighing him down, but he's not resigned. A model employee.
Something about Soleum is familiar to him, tasting like stale blood on his tongue. Perhaps that's why Jay can't help but meddle in, because, for some reason, he can't see Soleum fail the same way he did, lose the same things he lost.
Soleum moves in his sleep, startling Jay out of his thoughts. He groans, burrowing his nose against Jay's arm, his soft breathing hitting Jay's skin.
Right—Soleum is warm and human. There's blood trapped under the thin works of his flesh, so easy to come undone. Jay usually manages to restrain himself from dwelling on it for too long, but here, under the insensitive sunlight washing over him, cold and indifferent, Soleum is his only source of warmth.
Jay's hands move by themselves. He runs his fingers over the dip between the bones on Soleum's waist, winding a path over his organs. Bladder, intestines, pancreas, gallbladder, liver, lungs, heart—life pumping beneath, unsteady and energetic.
Jay grins, sharp and wicked.
Soleum curls into himself when his sleep is disturbed. He's a surprisingly light sleeper. His breathing picks up, his heart rate skyrockets, but he doesn't try to disentangle himself from Jay's grasp.
It sates something in him. Soleum trusts him, not anyone else. He doesn't ask to sleep with Park Minseong, that dark-haired manager, or the tall Section Chief from D-squad. He trusts Jay to keep him safe, to show his bare self to. Soleum is not weak, but he's only human, and he lies against Jay like he's sleeping with one just like him.
Soleum is a red dot, burning hot. And he's all Jay's.
Why else would he be here? His neck right there—the linings of his veins faintly visible under his skin, his blood singing the most alluring of the songs.
And Jay has been much of a good boy lately. Ah, that's right.
Which tale ever had the big bad wolf so docile?
Soleum is no longer a red dot on the horizon. He's taken shape, a soft humming coming from his plush lips. He's right in front of Jay, a basket full of sweets, a smile on his face. His eyes aren't open yet, and that's all the better.
Jay will be quick. He doesn't want Soleum to feel any pain after all, his beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Sol—wait. Is that right?
His Red Riding Hood has delivered himself right into his arms, and he's ready to be swallowed whole by Jay. As it should, since Jay is the Big, Big Bad Wolf.
He's chased and chased and chased, and now it's here!
And Jay is so, so, so, so, so HUNGRY.
HISREDRIDINGHOODISRIGHTHERENANDHE'SSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOHUNGRYITSJUSTRIGHTFORHIMTOUNHINGEHISJAWAND—
"Sergeant?"
Jay snaps out of it, a phantom ache settling over his bones as his body remodels itself after something human. Soleum's eyes are still closed, but his eyelids are trembling slightly as if he's about to open them.
As he comes to his senses, Jay realizes he's hovering over Soleum, trapping him between his arms. Trying to be as delicate as possible, he moves his arms, frowning at the deep tears on the mattress beneath them.
"Sorry… I was going to get water."
Soleum makes a small noise in his throat, settling against Jay's arms more comfortably before drifting into slumber once again.
Jay sighs. At least, Soleum hadn't opened his eyes.
Laughter echoes in the back of his mind all night long. As always, Jay sleeps very little.
…
He was going to eat me, wasn't he? Oh, my god, he absolutely was going to eat me!
Soleum, who had woken up with his bedmate literally salivating over him, unlocked a newfound ability, pretending to sleep when on the verge of a panic attack. He had bitten his tongue so the pain would ground him, and tried to keep his breathing pattern as steady as possible.
From the moment J3 had started to growl lowly against his skin, his, um, very hard lower parts rubbing enthusiastically against Soleum's back, he noticed that this wasn't a situation he could carelessly react to. So he kept quiet, but what was that! He was about to get eaten—either literally or not, he couldn't care less—by the security team Sergeant, so, fighting the despair clogging his throat, he spoke up. And it worked!
Oh, god. Next time, he'd just beg to share the bed with the Team Leader instead. At least a lizard alien wouldn't have him as a midnight snack. Probably.