Brock's gentle snores echoed throughout the quiet bedroom, and Brian couldn't help but to subconsciously tighten his arms around him as he slept. He was always so protective of him, it was an instinct. The Irishman had coaxed him into slumber with hushed whispers and gentle coos, lulling him by rubbing his bare back in circular motions. He had fallen asleep relatively easy, probably both mentally and physically exhausted from the day's events. A lot had happened, and Brian didn't blame him for falling asleep directly after their lovemaking session. And now, it was late, and Brian found himself unable to rest. With Brock beside him, he knew sleep should have come with ease, but it didn't. He was definitely too wound up, too tense to relax and go to bed.
The events of the day kept replaying over and over again in his head, and he was still distraught about the whole situation. He wished that there was some different way that they could have gone about it, but rethinking it, he knew he didn't really have a choice. It went the way it went, and it was done and over with. There was going to be fallout and he fucking knew it. He also knew that he wouldn't be able to do anything to prepare for it. It would hit him like a ton of bricks, knock the wind out of him so he wouldn't be able to catch his breath. He wasn't ready, and he knew that if he wasn't ready, then Brock wouldn't be ready either. But how could you prepare or prevent something like this? The question was so ridiculous, he wasn't sure that there was a concrete answer.
As he laid there staring at the ceiling, letting his thoughts wander, the younger man seemed to have worked himself into a tiny bit of an anxiety attack. And suddenly, everything was overwhelming. Brian needed air; all this over thinking was making him crazy. He felt like he was suffocating, if he had to put a word to what he was feeling. Impending doom lingered, his lungs felt like they were being crushed and sleep was not coming, neither was a piece of mind. Air seemed heavenly right now. So, he turned over and looked at Brock, the man still fast asleep, and he hoped he would stay asleep for the time being. Placing a tiny kiss on his forehead, he watched as a smile graced his face if only for a second before carefully getting out of the bed. Brian didn't want to wake up the older man, he didn't want him to worry anymore than he probably already was. Quietly, the Irishman slipped on some clothes before exiting the room and heading downstairs. Thankfully, Brock hadn't moved.
It was quiet in the house as Brian made his way to the backdoor and escaped outside. The stars were out, that was always a good thing, and they seemed to shine even brighter on this dark night. Brian sighed and shook his head, inhaling the cool air, trying to calm himself and his racing thoughts. He sat down on the back steps, burying his head in his hands. It was late, he should have been in bed. He should be upstairs with Brock, but instead? He was out here sulking. Why couldn't his parents just leave him be? Maybe telling them the truth was all a mistake; hell, he couldn't tell what was right and what was wrong anymore. It was always so frustrating... Why couldn't anything just go his way one time? "Goddamn it," He muttered under his breath. He was sick and tired of this nonsense.
However, a voice interrupted him as well as his thought process. "Watch your language, boy." It was his mother that pulled him out of the silence, out of the dark. He turned to look at her, confusion written clearly on his face, which turned into a smile once he saw she was walking towards him. "I thought I heard you come out here." She continued as she sat down beside him, patting his knee in the process. "It is pretty though," She commented, looking up at the sky. It seemed as though even more stars had surfaced in the night, and they twinkled. Brian couldn't help but to think of Brock's eyes; they twinkled like that sometimes, when he was happy. Oh god and he was always happy, except for when Brian broke his heart; the younger man shook his head at the thought.
"I was just getting some air while Brock was asleep." Brian replied, not taking his blue orbs off the sky.
"Something on your mind?" His mom inquired.
"Just thinking," He answered. "Can you tell that easily that something's wrong?" He asked with a small grin.
She chuckled, "Of course I can, you're my son." She nudged him gently before turning over to look at him. "I know whether you want me to know or not." They had always had a strong connection with each other, and like Brian had said before, he had always been a mama's boy. Throughout his childhood, it was his mother who had always been there for him. Hopefully, that wouldn't be any different now. However, matching blue eyes met, and in that moment, his mother gave him a sympathetic look. "You know how your father can be, Brian. And he may not be on your side, but I always will be. You're gonna be okay." Her tone of voice was kind, and the Irishman only gave a sigh. It was like she could read his mind; after all, she was his mother though, so it wasn't that much of a surprise.
"You really think so?"
His mother nodded in return, "Yes, I really think so." She pat her son on the back and stood up, ready to head back inside. "I'll leave you alone for a bit, but you need to get some sleep. We're still going out for breakfast in the morning, okay?" She began her walk to the door, and Brian turned around to say goodnight before watching her head inside. He wanted to say that her words helped, but if he was being honest with himself, he didn't think they did. If anything, they only made him worry more. Was his father ever going to be okay with this? Or would he always disapprove or stay in denial? Brian wished right then and there that he could just stop thinking about it so much. But, it was a big deal, and he didn't have much of a choice. It would stay engraved in his brain whether he liked it or not.
Meanwhile, upstairs, the bed was empty, the sheets cold as Brock's dark eyes fluttered open and he yawned. Disoriented from his sleep, a few seconds had passed before he even realized that he was in the bed alone. The older man sat up, adjusting the blankets so he was still covered up, before rubbing some of the restlessness from his eyes. He assumed that his boyfriend had gone to the bathroom or something, which was why he wasn't here. Or at least, he hoped it was something small like that. Brock was always the one to assume the worst, so he really hoped that it wasn't something bad. He knew Brian, and he knew that it wasn't like him to just up and leave in the middle of the night, especially since they weren't even home. But he let out another yawn, and decided to wait a few more moments before checking to see where he was.
After a few more minutes of being outside, Brian figured it was late enough, and he really should try to get some sleep. In fact, he was growing a bit tired. So with another sigh, he stood up and went through the back door, heading upstairs, back to the bedroom that he shared with Brock. He tried his hardest to be quiet so he wouldn't wake up the occupants in the house, but when he opened the bedroom door, Brock was already awake. He was sitting up in the bed, eyes still sleepy, looking like he was waiting for his boyfriend's return. "Have you been awake long?" Brian questioned, his voice a whisper as he got undressed and climbed back into the bed.
Brock shook his head, "Where were you?" His dark eyes met Brian's lighter ones as the younger man laid back down in the bed beside him. Brock decided it was okay for himself to lay back down as well. He rest his head on the Irishman's chest, listening to his heartbeat; it was fast, then slow, then fast again... Almost erratic. "Are you alright?" His voice was softer now, and he placed a kiss on his chest.
"I just went to get some air, I couldn't sleep." Brian answered, letting his hands go to Brock's head, fingers running through the short tufts. "I'm fine." He tried to reassure him, but the shakiness of his words pretty much gave him away. Brock knew him, and yes, Brock knew him well. He wasn't okay, he was trying to save face when really, he was having pain inside him. "Brocky, I know that look," He interrupted the older man's contemplating face and kissed his forehead. "And I promise you, I am fine, really." In all honesty, he just wanted to enjoy the rest of this trip without the antagonizing moments with his parents.
"You should go to sleep, it's late." Brock changed the subject, figuring that was best for now.
Brian grinned, "Hm, you're one to talk."
"Just go to sleep." The older man smiled in return, before tightening his grip and closing his eyes.