whitehairedprettyboy: (dismayed)
Valmont ([personal profile] whitehairedprettyboy) wrote in [community profile] vethbox2015-03-09 01:58 am
Entry tags:

Valkov angst fic

Valmont has nightmares.

This isn't something most people know about him, and he takes great pains to keep it that way. If anyone were to find out - ! Anyone outside of Raikov, that is, because it's a lot harder to hide nightmares from someone when you're sleeping next to them every night, and more than once he's woken up panting and sweating to find his lover watching him with concern. He doesn't give any more explanation than "Bad dream," though, and Raikov, thank god, never pries.

Shendu's been gone for months now, but Valmont's subconscious doesn't seem to have ever got the memo. His dreams, more often than not, keep telling him that his body is not his own, and no amount of threats or pleas will free him from the prison behind his red-tinged eyes. Lately there's been another participant, too, although "participant" may not be exactly the right word. Because this person doesn't do anything except stand there, content - or even amused - to watch as Valmont silently screams help me, please, Ivan...

It's only once he notices his lips are moving that he realizes he's woken up. Right. Another one of those bloody dreams. It's not that he was scared, you understand, but at the same time, it won't hurt if he just shifts a little closer to Raikov -

His body meets with no resistance as he scoots over. No pale arms sleepily wrap around his chest. He turns. The other side of the bed is empty.

He suddenly realizes exactly how cold he is.

Don't be stupid, he tells himself, Ivan merely got up early to make breakfast, or - or run an errand. But the apartment is quiet, aside from that faint, damnable music that seems to be a constant in this world, and when he makes himself get up and look into the hallway, Raikov's boots are still by the door.

Well, perhaps he's running the errand starkers. I wouldn't put it past him. But he has to admit that even for Raikov, that seems unlikely. For some reason, he's apprehensive to break the near-silence, but he takes a deep breath and does it anyway.


Nothing. He's about to call again, louder, when a slight shuffling from the next room interrupts him. He wheels around, naked relief on his face for a second before he hastily rearranges it into annoyance. You idiot, what on earth were you playing at -

But Raikov's not there. What is there is that unsettling yellow bug of his, who's emerged from that stupid hut Raikov got her and is currently clicking at him questioningly. The annoyance on his face is no longer forced. Wonderful. Not only has Raikov disappeared to who knows where, he expects Valmont to take care of his bug until he gets back...

He shakes his head. If he knows anything about Raikov, he knows that the man cares too much about that silly bug to leave it in anyone's care but his own. Which means he can't have left.

...No. Which means he can't have left willingly.

He's still dreaming. Or at least, there must be someone else controlling his body, because he knows he wouldn't have waited until his knuckles started bleeding to leave off punching the wall. But this time, his screams aren't silent in the least.

Valmont has nightmares. He's not sure he's ever going to stop.