*POV #1*

Damn...you're doing it again. Every time I think I'm about to fall asleep... you start. Sometimes it's only a moan or two. Sometimes it's a mumbled phrase or a name I can't quite make out. But tonight, it's the total package.

Soft groans, followed by sweet endearments, followed by calls to be taken over and over. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what you're dreaming about. And if your symphony of sounds wasn't enough, the rigid erection raising your sheet like a circus tent is a dead giveaway.

I only have one question. Who the hell are you dreaming about?

We spend practically every weekend together. What with Vince scheduling two... sometimes three house shows every week and then RAW. And I've never once seen you with anyone...male or female. You don't make any secretive phone calls and you don't have a picture frame that you unpack in every hotel that you can kiss good-night. I've never caught glancing longingly at anyone, so I'm completely stumped.

We spend more time together than most married couples. Except we aren't a married couple...or any kind of couple for that matter. I suppose we're friends. I mean, we eat together, work out together, travel in the same car. And nine times out of ten, we sleep together.

Sleep in the traditional sense, as in closing your eyes and drifting off. Not sleep in the sexual sense as in feeling you in my arms and having you moan my name softly. So you'd think I'd have some clue as to who you're so enthralled with.

You have no idea how badly I want to cross the space between our two beds, shake you awake and ask you. Who the hell has the ability to make you writhe in desire like that? Who's name is it that almost escapes your lips every night? And why in God's name do I wish it was me?

The first night I ever heard you thrashing about I turned on the light and was just about to awaken you. My hand was within inches of your shoulder when I realized that your sounds weren't cries of distress but cries of pure pleasure. I watched in fascination as your tongue darted out of your moth, licking at your lips feverishly as your dream lover satisfied whatever desires were eating away at you.

I didn't have the heart to end it then, but now, it's just about killing me.

For weeks I've listened to you sigh in contentment as someone I don't even know elicits sounds I can only fantasize about. It could be someone I know...or it could be a total stranger. Whoever it is...I hate them.

I've tried to ignore it. I've taken more cold showers than any human should have to endure. I've held a pillow over my head until I was sure I was on the verge of suffocation. But nothing has helped. No matter what I try, I can't block out the sounds of passion that fill your dreams. Sounds I want to be causing.

So tomorrow, I'll do the unthinkable. I'll simply tell you that this little partnership of ours has to end. I'll lie and say that I really prefer traveling and rooming alone. You're a very trusting soul so I'm sure you'll buy it. And who knows...maybe you'll be relieved yourself. Maybe with me out of the way you can finally have the lover you've been dreaming about all these months. And even though the last thing I want is to let someone else have you, I don't seem to have a choice.

Believe me when I say I don't want to do this. But I have to. If only to preserve my own sanity.

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*POV #2*

I'd give anything for a decent night's sleep. Just 8 hours where thoughts of you don't fill my head...and my heart.....with a desire that I'm fairly sure is going to kill me. It's bad enough having to be so close you while I'm awake. At least then I can find ways to disguise how I feel.

I can hide the fact that I want you more than the air that I breathe. That the thought of you holding me in your arms makes me happier than anyone has the right to be. I can pretend that we're just buddies. Two guys who work together and sometimes share a hotel room. All very platonic...and designed to make me miserable.

But it's just so unfair that the moment I drift into the dark abyss we call sleep, you appear. Teasing me, taunting me. Making me want things I never knew existed.

At first the dreams scared the hell out of me. I mean, I'm not like that. I don't look at other men and wonder what it would be like to kiss them, hold them...have them make love to me. So why is it that the thought of you doing those very things is driving me insane with need?

As hard as it is to believe I actually started looking forward to going to sleep. Those moments with you were so tantalizing that no one would have been able to resist.

But it's gone too far now. Because I can't stop at just dreaming. It's gone beyond a mere fantasy. Thoughts of you...of us....are in my mind constantly. So much so that I find myself crying out your name in my sleep. I wake myself up and in that first brief second I can almost believe that it's true. I can feel my skin tingle where your phantom touches set me on fire. My lips still throb from the force of your kiss.

But then reality settles on me with it's crushing weight and I'm more desolate than ever.

I'm surprised you haven't said anything. I'm sure I've awakened you on occasion and my mood has gotten so bad that everyone seems to be avoiding me.

I know I've snapped at you a couple of times. Lashed out in anger over something you didn't even know about, let alone possessed the ability to control.

I hate to do this, because you aren't to blame. It isn't your fault that I love you the way I do. It isn't your fault that I want you every minute of everyday. And it isn't your fault that I'm so weak.

So starting tomorrow...I'll go it alone. I know you'll understand because you never really question anything. I'll come up with some vague excuse for needing to travel alone and you'll smile and accept it. I suppose we can still be friends. But even that might prove to be too hard for me.

You'll find yourself another traveling companion and I'll be free. And maybe if I say it to myself enough I'll actually start to believe it.

Read the sequel Re-Arrangements