This goes with an art request from tumblr.
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For the third time that week, Saïx woke up sweaty and short of breath, with the lingering tingle of lips on his throat and a slim hand around his cock. Those sweet tender kisses sizzled away into nothing once he realized the hand down his pants was his own and that he was alone in his bed, the blankets tangled around his feet. He let out a shaky breath and a muffled "...shit," and kicked the blankets off the bed, undoing his pajama pants and sliding them down his hips with his underwear, freeing his painfully swollen cock.
He laid there still for a moment, his hands gripping tight in his own hair under his head to bring himself back down to earth, his heart racing and dick throbbing and he desperately tried to force away the lingering memories of Axel's loving touches.
Axel's stuff was gone, leaving Saïx's bedroom disturbingly empty, save for the few things he'd already had. The furniture was his, but most of the livelihood had been Axel's, and Saïx had thrown that livelihood out the back door the last time he'd caught Axel cheating.
But the bed still smelled so much like him, leaving Saïx with his shameful early morning escapades, where he woke up hard as a rock and jacked his cock as hard as he could just so he could go back to sleep and wake up and go on pretending that he hated his ex-lover and didn't miss him in the slightest.
His cock betrayed his faux hate, and he wrapped a hand around his erection with a shaky sigh, hesitating as he mentally reprimanded himself for submitting in the first place, before throwing all caution to the wind and stroking.
3 am was the only timeslot where Saïx allowed himself to miss Axel. He was tired and he was alone and gods did he still love that cheating asshole with everything he had, and even if things hadn't worked out, he could still pretend.
He draped his right arm over his face, blocking the light from tonight's nearly full moon as it shone into his eyes through the window, and his hand stroking at his erection was suddenly Axel's, and the thought hurt, but he shoved it down to the back of his mind and ignored the stinging in his eyes.
It was over quick; he came hard with a grunt and a hard inhale, his fluids coating his stomach and dribbling over his hand, and he was painfully aware of how alone he was in his bed again. No Axel. No comforting words. Nothing.
Saïx slipped his pajamas the rest of the way down his legs, wiping up his mess with them before tossing them somewhere off to the side.
He was suddenly very tired, ignoring the lurch in his chest that longed for the thin arms that used to wrap around him as they slept. Saïx rolled over onto his side, his back to an imaginary Axel, and he pulled the thin sheet up over his naked lower half before sleep finally overtook him.
And he dreamed.