He looks almost innocent when he sleeps.
It's really an humorous thought. The very idea of Chris MacClean being anything remotely related to innocent is laughable.
He's really a sick bastard when you think about it. No matter what horrendous challenge we are forced to endure, he always sits at a safe distance, enjoying the fireworks, his sadistic little grin plastered on his smug face.
No matter how many times he assures us he's only doing it for the money, I know the truth. He likes to see us sweat, to see us cracking under the pressure.
It's almost like a turn-on for him. Who knows. Maybe it is.
But, all of that seems to just vanish when he sleeps. The twisted smile melts away from his face and turns to a look of peace and comfort. His chest rises and falls rhythmically as he quietly breathes. You would barely even notice the sound of it if you didn't listen as carefully as I do.
I've been watching him like this every night now. Ever since I found the cabin I have been. I saw it's lights in the woods one night, and I suppose my curiosity got the better of me, as I soon found myself peeking through the windows watching him sleep for the first time.
I don't know what happened that night, but I eventually managed to pick the lock and actually sneak into his cabin to watch him sleep.
I often wonder why I torture myself this way. I mean, there are plenty of girl here for me to choose from. What do I need with an overly cruel pretty boy?
Who knows. Maybe I like the pain.
He shifts a little, breaking my train of thought. A thin strand of his ebony hair falls in his face, right over his closed eyes, his face remaining serene and even. He looks absolutely perfect.
Desire overtakes every fiber of me. My fingers ache to trace the contours of his body. Just feel his warmth under my hands. Intake his sweet scent. Have his lips interlock with my own. I can already taste them.
He shifts again, this time throwing off his comforter. I feel my eyes grow wide at the sight. He's shirtless. I can see the outlines of his tight abdomen from the moonlight shining through the window.
Just looking at him, his perfect skin exposed to me, is electrifying. My desire is growing unbearable. It's tearing at my insides like a wild animal trapped in a cage.
I take a deep, silent breath and quietly crawl to the edge of his bed.
I'm inches away from him now. That single strand of hair is still in his face. I bring my wavering hand up to his face and slowly brush it behind his ear with my finger.
He doesn't even stir. He just lies still, continuing his slow, steady breathing.
I continue my exploration of his face. His skin is soft and warm. His stubble is rough, but a comfort to feel under my fingers. I move onward and begin to softly run my hand through his hair. It's silky, smooth, and slightly wet, most likely from a shower.
I am overcome by the urge to make my fantasy a reality. To finally be able to lock his lips with mine.
I slowly lower myself toward him.
It's even more beautiful than I imagined. His lips are sweet, warm, and the most perfect thing I have ever come into contact with.
I wish I could make this heavenly moment last an eternity. To just stay here, locked in this sensual feeling for all time.
But my more sensible side takes control, and I finally release his lips from my own. I brush my fingers against his rough cheek once again, basking in how amazingly good it feels against my own skin. Then, I see his face slowly melt into a serene smile.
I can feel my heart stop. He's smiling. He felt my kiss and he liked it. At that moment, I felt all gravity leave me, so I could fly to the stars and back.
Even if he thinks that the kiss was only in his dreams, it doesn't matter to me. He still felt it and it was enough to bring a smile other than a cruel one to his face. I can barely contain my joy.
I steal a peek at the small digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed. It blares one in the morning at my face, warning me that I have to get back to the cabin before I'm missed.
Slowly and quietly, I tiptoe out of the cabin, making sure I catch one last glance of his perfect, smiling face before I go.
I race thorough the woods, my heart beating about thirty times faster. I am still trying to get over the disbelief.
I kissed him. He smiled. It's something I'd only hoped for in my wildest dreams.
Finally, I make it back to the cabin, making sure I get my heart rate down before entering, as to not give the guys any clue to where I was.
When it finally gets back to normal, I walk up the steps and quietly open the door. I can hear Harold snoring from his bunk. In the moonlight, I see Geoff with his precious cowboy hat over his face. I see DJ, curled up in his bed like a small child.
I creep to my bed as quietly as my feet will allow me. Unfortunately for me, I'm not quiet enough.
DJ stirs in his sleep and I hear him sit up.
"Duncan," he says, groggily, but still laced with mild concern. Leave it to DJ to act as den mother to the lot of us. "What's up, man?"
"Nothing, dude," I reply, thankful for the darkness that hides the heat I now is visible on my face. "Just needed the little dude's room."
He gives a satisfied moan, shifts back into the curled-up position on his bunk, and, with a sigh, drifts back off to sleep.
I climb into my bunk. The running wore me out, and I slip into unconsciousness as soon as my head makes contact with the fabric of my pillow.
But I vaguely recall a dream about a certain pair of soft sweet lips that made me feel like I could fly to the stars and back.
A/N: Well, there you have it folks. If you want to leave reviews, go right ahead.
However, seeing as this is slash and slash tends not to go over so well in this category, I'll say this:
Any reviews that looks like this "Ewwwwwww! Gross! Duncan is nawt gai! Hw could u do tht?! Perv." or "WHAT?! Duncan and Courtney totally belong together you horrible person! DxC forever!!" will be laughed at and then put in a forum where they will be laughed at even more.
Cheers,
Lavender Cat
