AN: Pure solo smut
I was tossing and turning, resenting that my bed was as empty as my mind was full of those freckles. Were those hazel eyes shut and dreaming peacefully? His hair a tangled brunette splash on his pillow or neatly plaited back?
"Who gives a shit, Alex?" I said aloud, my voice bouncing around the room empty room.
I should just get up and do some work, I told myself, but couldn't find it in me to get up, my eyes adjusted to the darkness, the thought of lights made my head and eyes hurt. I lie in the darkness, listening to the noises of the bar downstairs that my apartment was attached to.
I growled at myself in frustration and palmed myself through the thin fabric of my sweatpants. Do you know what a loser you are? I know. I closed my eyes, focusing on what my hands were doing, trying to relax into the sensations.
He'd bitten his lip when I told him I worked only in silence. I imagined being the one to bite his lips. I moved the cotton out of the way to stroke myself properly. His lips were full, a freckle here and there even on his lips. Was he a hair puller? Did he keep his long because he liked to have it pulled? I would pull it. I wondered how far down his freckles went, did they cover his chest? I considered his chest. He looked strong, a broad man, he filled out the sport coat that he'd worn, surely he had abs, in my mind he had abs. I imagined his muscles tightening and twitching, that it was him in my hands instead of my own body, and let myself release, wishing it was on those abs. Still alone, I was at least less pent up, I cleaned myself up with a dirty t shirt from the floor and smoked a final cigarette, snuffing half of it for the morning.