Warnings: Masturbation, Allen's dirty dream.

Pairing: Allen x hand (though in fantasy it's Allen x Rhode)

Word Count: 614 - ficlet.

Notes: Written for a friend. Un-proofread, un-edited, this is completely as I first typed it, so my bad for typos and such.

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The night was like any other. The soft wind howled across the city, sweeping past trees and lovers. The moonlight caressed motionless houses and dressed the ground in a creamy glow.

Allen lay in bed, his body shifting from a restless sleep.

He was dreaming again, about a slender figure approaching him, reaching out to him. Of familiar lips that tasted like candy coated sweetness and of a playful voice calling out his name. This dream had been recurring for days and when he awoke he would always forget the exact details of his dream.

His pants, however, always supplied some answer.

Allen jolted upright, eyes wide, his breathing heavy. The shirt he was wearing clung to his back, silently accusing him of his sin. The tent in his pants was no less lenient; it was as if his body was pointing fingers at him, daring him to do wrong.

He looked down to the floor where Link lay asleep. Allen had observed that the boy was a heavy sleeper, despite the fact he was supposed to be observing him 24/7. He let out a sigh of relief when he was sure Link had noticed nothing.

Allen stared at his groin. He bit his bottom lip, slipping his hand underneath his pants and boxers. It was not like he had never touched himself before, there had been times, but in most cases he was too busy to even think about sex or anything related to that topic.

And certainly sex and Noah did not fit into one sentence together.

He stifled a moan as his cool hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. Breathe, he reminded himself. Allen let his head fall back while he rested his weight on his other, stronger arm. His hand squeezed tightly, stroking up and down. Hips began to move, his chest began to heave. Pre cum was smeared across the head of his penis while eyes fell shut.

He could see her then. Her childish, yet mocking, mischievous eyes. Her slender curves and playful smile. The way she cocked her head to the side in an almost questioning, yet teasing manner. And then…

He could feel himself walking forward, grabbing her by the arm and pulling, slamming her small frame close. His lips were on hers and he could feel, feel, her almost taunting smile. Her lips tasted like sugar, it's always sugar, but it was delicious, like candy sticking to your teeth.

His lips were all over her then. Down her neck, across her collarbone, upon her breasts. He licked her nipple into hardness and toyed with the bud until she breathed out his name in an almost plea. He could feel her arch beneath his body, the heat between them almost unbearable. Clothes were ripped, made nothing by the urgency.

And then he was inside. Inside the warmth, the wetness, the tightness. She clung to his shoulders so firmly; he could swear she had left imaginary bruises. Her breath played along his cheek, the almost unbearable squish echoes sending shocks up and down and all about Allen's body.

In. Out. Deeper. Harder. Faster.

ALLEN!!

He had to swallow his moan, which threatened to escape much like his cum had. Allen fell back onto the bed, eyes fixated on the roof, hand slipping out from his shorts. He quickly glanced to the side, making sure Link wasn't awake and fully aware of what had just transpired.

Good.

As Allen lay in bed catching his breath, he eyed his dirty hand, frowning. It was just what he needed: to be caught with his hand in his pants thinking, no, fantasizing about none other than the enemy, none other than Rhode Kamelot.