He's under the sky on the rooftop deck when he falls asleep, the breeze from a coming thunderstorm ruffling his hair left loose about his shoulders, strands blowing against his cheekbones. It's nothing troubling; Ganymede loves being outdoors when he can see the weather rolling in for miles, and he'd been humming a little song under his breath while the dogs played in the unseasonably warm weather, pouncing and rolling around each other. But they'd settled down eventually and with his head pillowed on Ashley's lap so had Ganymede.

The dream started innocently enough, wandering in a meadow as far as the eye could see, tall grass and wildflowers all around him, the rustling of small animals in the undergrowth, and the dark, pregnant gray clouds overhead casting the scene in a strange otherworldly light. He twitched in his husband's lap as he ran in his dream, chased by something unknown, unseen but that felt like icy fingers a fraction of an inch from his spine.

His lashes fanned both cheekbones, brows faintly pinching as little muscles here and there contracted in his sleep. Ganymede didn't make much noise, only the softest little sound of protest when Ash combed through his hair; in his dream he felt prickles along his scalp like tree branches snatching at it while he ran, directionless and seeming to get nowhere.

He couldn't turn back to see what was chasing him and he couldn't stop. He looked down, jerking his chin gently in his sleep, to make sure he didn't put his foot in a rabbit hole and fall, and suddenly--the ground had fallen away, he was tumbling through nothing but air, the world so far below he could barely see snatches of it.

Ganymede isn't only afraid, he is terrified.

Tumbling through the air, not knowing how far the ground is but knowing deep in his core that the sudden stop will kill him, he reaches and snatches for anything he can reach--the despair in him is palpable, because there is no way out of this. There is nothing to catch himself on, nothing he can do to arrest the fall. The only thing he can hope for is what should be his worst fear--the glint of talons and the soft, airy whoosh of feathers to swoop down and snatch him out of thin air, and he knows it will cut and bleed and hurt.

As fast as he had been falling and jerking in his sleep, now he's soaring, flying through the air as easily as he could have ever imagined. The wings holding him aloft were huge and pearlescent white, easily holding him aloft as he changed course abruptly and banked into the wind, feeling finally like he can breathe, giddy and happy and exactly how he feels with his husband.

Ashley.

Some sub-conscious part of him yearns at that name, at the idea of the man he loves, and it's enough to slide him towards wakefulness, eyes blinking open as if he'd been splashed with cold water, staring up at Ash's face. "...my love," he murmured, letting everything in him re-acclimate to being awake, his limbs feeling oddly like he'd been floating on something.

His expression settles into the gentle lines of remembering, and concern as he recalls the all too familiar dream of falling.

"This one was...strange. I had wings," he murmurs. I've never had wings before."

Ganymede's brows crease, still adjusting to reality outside the dream-world he'd been in that had seemed so very real. Real enough to have him panicking because he couldn't feel the earth underneath his feet. It was all around him now, the vibrant and verdant green of all the plants and flowers on their rooftop, the smell of respiration and the damp soil.

"How can you do that?" he asked, though he didn't sit up or pull away. He didn't feel the need to, not with his husband's gently tracing fingers over his face. "Why would you change it?"

"But you made it so I could fly," he murmured gently. He didn't know precisely how to feel about knowing Ashley could not only tell what was on his mind but change it, down to the very fabric of his dreams...but Ganymede didn't hate it. His love had the opportunity to do any number of things, and he'd only changed enough to keep him from being afraid.

"I never had dreams about flying. Only falling."

Ganymede chuckled and caught the tip of Ashley's finger in his mouth, teeth gentle as he soothed the skin with a soft kiss. "We should fly. I have really good weed in the kitchen from Naci. I was going to make cookies...but then we came up here."

He had no real compunctions against using drugs since it was exceedingly hard to get him addicted to anything, and Ashley wasn't very easily distressed.

"You know every time I go in there with you, we end up having sex on the floor," he chuckles, voice and face undeniably fond. He loves his husband so entirely, and reaches up a slow hand to rub his thumb down the line of Ashley's nose until he brushes that tiny snug septum ring. "Last time with that goose game was fun."

The game had been very much Ganymede's speed, truly. Simple objectives, an amusing nature, and no stressful deadlines or narrow tunnel vision. It had been no huge surprise that they'd laughed most of the evening and had curled up on the couch together, until making out had overtaken the actual game.

"Come down here," Ganymede chuckled, meeting his love halfway and pulling Ash into a kiss with the fingertip he still had between his teeth. He remembered that night when he'd come home from a date with someone else and had felt like his heart was slamming against his ribs until he'd found Ashley in his game room.

"You'll have to show me how to play these ones," he murmured. "Maybe after the sex. And the smoke." He had the raw ingredients, as it were, but he was quick at rolling. Ash had seen him do it in less than a minute start to finish. "You know how much I love you right now?"

"I love you more than that," Ganymede chuckles, getting to his feet and feeling the breeze blow his hair away from his face, breathing in the moist air signalling a coming thunderstorm. "I love you more than everything. More than life."

"Hey! Put me down!" Ganymede laughed, kicking and wriggling in Ashley's arms at the bite. "Carry me properly, you ass."

Ganymede laughs and kisses him back, rocking back down to his heels and turning to trot down the stairs so he can grab what he needs, heading back up the stairs to the game room. He only pauses a moment to ditch his shirt and untie his hair before he comes in with Ashley.

"You gotta let me roll another one first, unless you wanna share with me," he singsonged, curling his fingers in the placket of Ash's shirt to tug him in close. "I want to touch you all night."