Nick sat down, the soft bed beneath him slightly dipping down underneath his thin frame. Red rolled over to look at Nick, stretching his back as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Disgusting," he commented, eying Nick up and down. Nick's smile faltered a bit before quickly growing bigger.

"I finished the cleaning," Nick said simply, giving Red a pleading look. Red nodded slowly, staring at Nick's face with a rather empowering look in his eyes.

"Good, good. Lay here with me," Red spoke clearly, not mumbling in the slightest. Nick's grave expression lifted up a little as he crawled towards Red, laying down next to him. Red hummed sweetly, wrapping his warm arms around Nick's skeleton of a body. Nick felt safe and happy here. Content.

His eyes fluttered closed. His breakfast's taste lingered in his mouth, different sweets swirling around. It tasted much worse than usual. It tasted like crying, yelling, and silence.

Silence scared Nick most of all, because then he doesn't know how anyone's feeling with it. But crying hurt most of all, like lemon juice on a paper cut. Yelling was most angering, all the emotion someone can hold is just released into the world from a single boisterous noise.

He swallowed hard, adding more chains to his gate containing a flood of tears. It hurts. It hurts to cry. It hurts to cry when you're not supposed to cry. When you should be dead, rotting in hell.

But you're not. But Nick's not. He's lying here, breathing softly. And he can't stop. He brushes his fingers against the smooth, warm skin around him. So wrong, yet so right.

"God you're so pathetic," Red commented disdainfully, nuzzling the back of Nick's hair. Nick nodded, shaking a little from how hard he was trying to make sure he didn't do so vigorously. Red was so, so damn perfect. He was handsome, charismatic, respected, and he had so many people who cared for him.

Nick was the utter opposite. Ugly, a parasite, stupid, worthless, and so much more. He needed Red to survive. No one else would even bat an eye at someone so useless. How'd he get so lucky to be so loved like this? His luck was unprecedented.

"I.. I love you," Nick whispered weakly, closing his eyes as he buried his face into Red's muscular chest. His calm, rhythmic heart beat resonated with Nick. The moment felt surreal.

"Stop talking. Your voice is grating," Red ordered in reply, pulling Nick closer to himself. Nick felt his breath get caught in his throat. It.. it was grating? He didn't recall his voice sounding very high pitched, what Red considered annoying. Though, if it was his husband telling him this, it must be true.

Perhaps it would be best if he stopped talking all together. He didn't want to hurt Red's ears anymore than necessary. His voice wasn't necessary. He wasn't necessary.

Nick bit his lower lip, his one hand moving palm down so he could grasp at the sheets beneath them. He was so disgusted by the fact he was allowed to be touched like this, or even be within the same space as Red.

And yet he enjoyed it. He wanted to writhe around even now in the pleasure of having such gentle hands caress his body like this. He would even go as far to say he'd want Red to touch him in some unnamed areas of his body.

The fact that he had the courage to have such thoughts made him feel unhinged. What was wrong with him? Ruining Red's image with such wild fantasies. He was horrible. A disgrace. An ugly mark on Red's reputation. And yet here he was, laying in Red's bed, dreaming of the supposed unthinkable.

He prayed Red would finally grow tired of him and shoot him soon. His presence on this Earth was horrifying.