He awoke with a start. His heart pounding against his chest. His body was gripped in fear, tense and shaking even though he couldn't quite remember what he was dreaming outside of Jem's death. He was always dreaming of Jem dying. It haunted him, even in his waking hours. Though he could not remember the dream, the emotions—the pain; both emotional and physical, the anger, the loss and the helplessness—still clung to him. It was hard to breathe, hard to think with such emotion weighing down on him. He gasped for air and struggled to breathe, he felt like he was choking as he turned and buried his face into a warm, pale shoulder.
He inhaled deeply, breathing in everything that made his parabatai who he was and it calmed him. It eased him in a way that nothing else had. He sighed softly against Jem's skin, reaching out to wrap his arm around Jem's waist. Jem was alright, he told himself. Jem was alive; alive and breathing, still asleep next to him as he nuzzled into the crook between Jem's neck and shoulder. Unable to help himself, he pressed his lips against soft skin and left behind kisses, and then nips, and finally, hard bites that made his lover beneath him groan softly.
"William," Jem slurred sleepily as he shifted, turning his head to meet soft, dark hair as Will grew more aggressive—his lips were bruising and his grip tight as his fingers dug, possessively, into Jem's hip. And then, suddenly, Will moved until he hovered over Jem. His dark, hazy blue gaze boring into Jem's own as his lips curled into a small, confused frown. "Will?" Jem said, his tone questioning as his eyes searched Will's, looking for any indication of what Will was thinking or feeling. "What's the matter?"
Will shook his head, his gaze dropping to Jem's lips before his mouth soon followed, catching Jem's in a passionate kiss that communicated what he couldn't say. And then, almost unconsciously, he was sliding into Jem as though he had never left. He filled him and swallowed Jem's gasp of surprise and want before Will shifted his hips and began the age-old rhythm that was engrained into their very being.
He kept moving against Jem. Kept giving. Kept taking until their bodies shook, until stars danced across their lines of sight, until Jem broke the kiss to cry out his name as he shuddered violently and spilled himself between them. Will kept moving until his hips stuttered and he painted Jem's insides as his own, and then, Will fell into Jem's waiting arms.
They laid together, quietly panting, quietly falling from their high as Will lifted his head and, again, he met Jem's gaze. "I just love you so much," Will murmured softly, answering Jem's earlier question. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."
Jem was quiet for a moment, searching Will's gaze with a small frown on his face before his features evened out and he reached up to brush his fingers along Will's cheek. "I know," Jem answered softly, his gaze growing meaningful and serious. "None of us know when our time will come; not you and not I. So, live today for what it is."
"And what's that?" Will asked, leaning into his lover's touch, taking the comfort Jem offered him—needing it more in that moment than he had ever needed anything else.
"Today's a gift," Jem replied simply before he leaned up and pressed a sweetly chaste kiss to Will's lips.