"Dream Within A Dream"
A Rockman.EXE fic by Kikuko Katsuki

The dream of one who finds himself thinking of another, with unexpected results.

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This was the third night he'd lain awake like this.

His eyes burned, his body trembled with exhaustion-induced shivers, his mouth opened wide with constant yawns...yet he couldn't seem to drift into the deep slumber he so desperately craved. It was strange; his thoughts were calm, his breaths slow and even, his internal temperature pleasant, not too hot or too cold. So why couldn't he sleep? Normally it took him only a few minutes to descend into restfulness, but tonight it had been - he checked the clock - five hours and he hadn't once drifted off. With a soft sound of complaint, he shifted onto his side, the thin blanket rubbing over his naked body in a delicate caress, as if to soothe him, draping over the gentle lines of his slender frame. He couldn't afford to stay awake like this, as tired as he was, as tired as he had been lately. Three nights of being unable to sleep properly were already taking their toll on him, yet, he couldn't do a thing about it. He could only lay here and pray for sweet respite.

It was somewhere around 3 in the morning when his eyes finally drifted shut and stayed that way, the tantalizing pull of sleep overcoming his body at last. Restless motion calmed, slim legs drawn up to his chest as he curled up, hands tucked beneath his chin, hair slipping across his closed eyes in an almost intangible brush of earthen-colored strands. His lips were parted slightly, allowing soft breaths to be drawn in and let out again, silent and slow. At last, he slept, whatever had been bothering him enough to keep him awake finally gone from his presence.

But his sleep was not to be a restful one, as he began to dream.

It was simple enough at first - a scene of himself, lying awake in his bed, unable to rest. Yet,
somehow, though he was the only one in the room, he wasn't alone. Invisible hands touched his cheek, his shoulder, easing him up into a sitting position, unseen arms cradling him against an
unfamiliar body. He opened his mouth to ask who was there, but a delicate fingertip touched his lips, quieting him. Silence and a strange warmth permeated the room, until the figure spoke.

Watch, it said simply, in a voice audible but not.

His eyes slid closed of their own volition, but not to let him sleep. A scene was playing across the inside of his eyelids, sort of a dream within a dream. A familiar figure lying in bed with the covers kicked off, completely nude, curled up on his side and touching himself. Soft moans escaped his throat, escalating into hesitant cries as his fingers stroked over his arousal in movements he had obviously practiced many times before. His hand slid down, stilling for a moment as he cupped himself, heated flesh resting against his palm and fingers for a moment before he resumed the rough touches that he was giving to himself. His back arched, head thrown back in a moment of particularly intense pleasure, a sharp cry torn from him now as he tightened his fingers around himself. He turned his face into the pillow, muffling his cries as he moved faster and harder, hips bucking into his hand; he flipped onto his back then, biting on his free hand to keep quiet, eyes slitting open to reveal slivers of glazed brown, almost unseeable in the darkness around him. He stared into nothing as his hips rocked, nails digging just slightly into the achingly swollen flesh he held, earning another cry. Soon enough, his hand dropped away from his mouth and he arched up, gasping, purring and moaning all in the same sound. He was close - so close - it hurt by now, he craved release, craved the single moment of bliss - gritting his teeth, he raised his free hand to his mouth again, licked his fingers and slid them inside himself, giving out a sound something like a yelp as he was penetrated. His movements were faster now, less restrained, and he was panting as he gave himself one last stroke, driving his fingers deep inside himself and nearly screaming out a name as he arched again, release finally coming, torn from his heavily shaking body in a hot rush. Hand dropping away, he sighed softly as it ended, collapsing back to the bed.

Wake, the disembodied voice ordered the dreamer.

He woke just as his body arched, a cry trembling in his throat as release flowed out of him, sweet and unexpected. It lasted for an endless moment that still seemed far too short, warmth splashing over his stomach and spilling down to the sheets, leaving trails of stark white, bright even against his pale skin. Moaning quietly, sated, he let himself settle back to the mattress, catching his breath before he glanced over at the clock again. There was just enough time for him to clean up before his father would come in to wake him for school, and he wondered; was this just coincidence?

As he traversed the schoolyard, his eyes unconsciously searched the crowd for a familiar face, for dark hair and darker eyes. When his gaze fell on the person he'd been searching for, he smiled, gripping the straps of his backpack and running over. He saw, and he remembered the dream, and he caught up to the other boy, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Ohayou, Netto-kun."

Netto turned and smiled. "Ohayou, Tohru," he said.

-owari-