Dresden Files Fic: Sleep
Title: Sleep
Author: guardian_chaos
Rating: G
Words: 648-ish
Summary: A mortal Bob discovers the wonder that is a high-thread count. =)
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"Comfy?" Harry asked, unable to keep a smirk from edging up on his face as he looked down at Bob.
A muffled grunt, but of the happy sort, was Harry's only reply. The former ghost's head was too far buried in his pillow to allow for him to be any more coherent than that, but the meaning was still clear. Of course he was "comfy." Why did Harry even need to ask him such a thing?
"Okay then," Harry said, patting Bob on his velvet-clad shoulder-Harry wondered if he's ever get used to that-and then moving to leave the room. "Just don't forget to breathe. You need to do that now."
There was a sudden inhale behind Harry and the wizard paused just before the steps leading down from the loft. The smirk on his face turned into a full-on grin.
"Bob," he began, turning abruptly to find the former ghost glaring up at him. As a comical effect Harry imagined that Bob did not at all intend to include alongside the silent threat, Bob's pale hair stuck out in every possible direction, the unwilling victim of static electricity from a freshly washed sheet.
"Don't even," Bob began to warn him, but Harry waved him off.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "Just keep breathing. And enjoy the sheets."
The sorcerer looked like he was about to say something more in protest, but then his glare just melted off of his face and he settled his head back down on the pillow, being more careful this time to keep his head tilted to the side so that he could breathe as his eyes slipped shut in bliss.
"Thank you, Harry," he murmured, sliding his arms under his pillow and holding it closer to himself. The coolness of the pillowcase delighted the skin of his face and neck, while the mattress conformed so gently to every contour of his body, somehow managing to support and soothe every newly-made mortal muscle in his body until at last his arms, shoulders, back and calves did not seem to ache anymore from the effort it took to live and instead simply lay limp against the bed. He felt no desire to move except for the occasional wiggle of delight, just to feel the bed shift beneath him and the blankets lightly caress and glide across his skin without a hitch.
It was all so unbearably wonderful.
Soon, the former ghost felt his mind growing hazy as it drifted lazily towards strange and beautiful dreams, the likes of which he had not seen in many centuries. Within a matter of mere moments, he had completely fallen into a deep sleep, his breathing rate steady against the pillowcase.
Watching for a moment or so to ensure that his friend would continue to breathe easily, Harry assured himself that, yes, everything was fine. Or rather-at least judging by the absolute contentment on Bob's face-everything was utterly perfect.
Waving a hand to extinguish the candles surrounding them both, Harry watched as the light dancing across Bob's face was quickly snuffed out, with only the flickering lights of candles beneath the loft to show that he was still there.
And he was, in fact, still there. Like the residual shock Harry had felt upon touching the former ghost's shoulder-actually touching and not just brushing through it-Harry wondered how many times he would have to remind himself of this grand fact. And so he reminded himself once more, as Bob sighed deeply in the dim light, that the man was, in fact, there.
Turning away from the darkness in which his friend calmly slept, Harry stepped down the stairs and embraced the night, while upstairs, without a care in the world, Bob-a real life, living Bob-continued to dream.
END.