The club had helped. He could pretend that Dream was Theo. The mannerisms were familiar, and the sex was mind-blowing. It had been like a balm to the sore pulsing places inside him that reeked of Theo and the holes he had left on Harry’s psyche. That first time had been by far the best. He could imagine that Theo was taking out all the pain and hurt he had suffered, because of Harry, out on his skin. He had slept better than he ever had that night.