I'm on Vicodin. I have a fibroid, it's very painful "that" time of the month. I don't normally take that stuff but tonight I have to after a long day of pain and looking forward to a long day of work tomorrow going to apartments with the plumber and owner fixing problems the last guy neglected. So I'm kind of a hero, replacing heaters and ordering drywall repair, making people's living places right after tons of neglect. The Vicodin is writing this. So while lying in bed in a haze of relief, my mind drifts off to this fantasy that's either slash fiction or just frink. Or just comfort frink or something. Safety. I don't know. It's not a zombie kiss. It's me in bed in flannel pajamas. High on Vicodin. No pain. Relief. Moz is facing me falling asleep in my bed too. He has no shirt on. A fresh pic in my mind of LMKY helps that thought. But he's not on a stage, he's lulling off to sleep and my face is on his chest. I touch his bare shoulder softly, cup it and kiss his clavicle and marvel at his musculature so feminine yet so strong and masculine, and it wakes him up. He says "Shhhhh. Go to sleep. My shoulder will be here in the morning." Then he clutches tighter and it helps me to sleep. I'm safe.
Kind of a half dream. I'm pathetic. But I'm okay with that.