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It happened again. OJ sat up from his reclined position, the blanket he was under spilling over his lap. He wasn’t out of breath or anything, but upon waking up, he found himself gasping for air. Just once, but after that he remembered he was able to breathe. He remembered he was in the Hotel and not back there.
Apparently, many residents of Hotel Hoot have been plagued with the occasional nightmares ever since the mass deletion that happened. Even those who previously never remembered their dreams had started recalling unsettling ones that they now experienced, OJ being one of those people.
He’d had his fair share of nightmares before, he was relieved to say this wasn’t one of them, but it most certainly wasn’t the happy sort. It was a recurring dream, nothing to keep him up screaming or wake up with tears rolling down his face, but enough to make going back to sleep a whole lot harder.
It was always the same moment, just as he remembered it when it actually happened. Waking up in MeLife, remembering the utter fear he felt as that Mephone X got closer and closer to him. It was unsettling, a pit always formed in his stomach, and the feeling only worsened when he saw the previous Hotel OJ in front of him. Looking upon the building always filled him with joy and pride, but at that moment, and all the relived versions of it, dread pooled in his gut instead.
He would go into the hotel, shocked to find no messes in the lobby, no yelling residents, no dirty dishes… no anything. He would yell and search for anyone who would hear him, he would’ve been happy even if it was Salt who responded, anyone would do, but no one came. He would always walk to his office, sitting alone at his desk as the emptiness echoed around him. The silence, ringing and reverberating off his glass form, only serving to reminded him of his solitude.
It was always left to just his memories. He had felt such pride for all his accomplishments he had achieved, just the thought of his success could’ve comforted him, but his mind always turned to Paper rather than his success. The memory of Paper’s last words before OJ got deleted. Thoughts and memories would play out of all the times OJ put himself before Paper, whenever he ignored him or downplayed his efforts It taunted him as a repeating chorus, unable to ignore it in the deafening hotel that surrounded him. Unable to even apologize since Paper was nowhere to be found.
Sometimes it would go further, the truth of what happened in MeLife twisting into some incomprehensible version of it, as dreams tended to do. This night, it just ended there at his desk, Paper’s words haunting him. His heart wasn’t racing, he wasn’t drenched in a cold sweat, it truly wasn’t a nightmare; it was just… unpleasant.
OJ looked over to the bedside clock, only to find that it was three in the morning. He was an early riser, but not this early. A thought crossed his mind about going to sleep but he doubted he would be able to calm down in order to get anywhere. Maybe a few 10-minute intervals, but nothing that would be productive for his sleep cycle. On the other hand, he couldn’t think of anything he could do at three that would be productive in regard to his work duties. He could always tidy up or reorganize, but there’s a chance that would make too much noise and wake people up, and he did not want to deal with talking to anyone so early in the morning.
OJ sighed, it didn’t take much time to balance the pros and cons in his head. He peeled back the blanket and swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes as he got ready to stand up and get his day started.
Suddenly, a hand gently reached for his wrist as he was met by a voice, “OJ?”
The man nearly jumped off the bed, turning around to find Paper groggily staring up at him in the darkness. He was so caught up in his worries, he nearly forgot his boyfriend was right there in bed with him. As much as the thought pained him, he realized It wouldn’t have been the first time he forgot Paper was with him.
OJ brought his hand to rest on Paper’s, “Did I wake you up?”
Paper drowsily shrugged, “Kind of, I’ve been in and out of it all night.”
He brushed his thumb over the back of Paper’s hand, “Aw, that’s no good.”
“It’s fine,” Paper replied through another yawn. OJ felt the hand around his wrist tug him closer, “Why are you getting up so early?”
OJ paused. He didn’t really want to talk about the dream he had. In all honesty, he just wanted to move on with his day and forget about it, anything to get rid of the still present pit in his stomach.
“Bad dream?” Paper said, quieter than before.
OJ looked to the side, a dark corner of the room, “Yeah, I guess.”
Paper’s hand tugged at him again, “doesn’t mean you should be up and moving at three in the morning.”
“It feels… natural.” OJ sighed, “besides, what else am I supposed to do?”
“Stay?”
OJ finally looked over to Paper again, being greeted by a small, tired smile. Paper made a simple beckoning motion with his free hand while the one around OJ’s wrist tugged once more, this time much gentler but with an all too convincing stroke of his thumb across OJ’s hand. It wouldn’t take much more to convince him with how sweet Paper looked.
All resolve was lost, OJ gave one last glance to the door before complying to Paper’s plea. Paper’s smile grew as OJ laid back down, his arms instantly wrapping around his glass. OJ reciprocated, his hand resting around Paper, careful to not put too much weight on him so he wouldn’t crumple.
It was wonderful, wrapped in each other’s embrace. The warmth of the blankets and their bodies seemed to make the perfect feeling of safety and comfort. OJ was glad Paper was hard to say no to.
“I love you,” OJ whispered, quietly, as if it was meant to be something said for his mind and his alone, “Thank you.”
OJ felt Paper squeeze his sides, “I love you too. What are you thanking me for, though?”
“Everything. Anything. I’ve got lots to thank you for,” OJ replied.
Paper laughed lightly, another small yawn following, “I didn’t realize you’re such a sap when you’re sleepy.”
“For you, I am.”
Another tight squeeze and Paper nuzzled his face into OJ’s body, his flat form curving around his. There was barely any space between them, every part of them touching each other in some way or the other. A perfect calm and loving moment. OJ didn’t expect to feel sleep overtake him so soon, but with the warmth and affection of his boyfriend, it came all too easy. He had a feeling that his dreams would be much more pleasant now with Paper at his side.