Snow awoke the next day feeling gleeful. This was perhaps one of the best ideas he'd ever had.
As he showered, he reflected on the rest of the previous evening. They'd had dinner and watched TV as though nothing had happened, much as they normally would… when it came to bedtime, though, Hope had changed into his pyjamas and gotten straight into bed and curled up without saying anything. This tickled Snow, since unless it was cold and Snow was away, Hope generally slept naked. The warmth of their bodies together was enough to stop either of them from getting chilly. The only reason Hope would ever wear pyjamas while Snow was in the apartment would be because he was cross, or because he wanted to make it clear that sex wasn't going to happen. In last night's case, it was probably both.
Snow chuckled to himself. He remembered how he'd tried not to get horny from the situation. Irritatingly, he had a tendency to find Hope's grumpiness to be a turn on. It made him feel playful, and want to tease him more. Which, true, would sometimes end up leading to sex… but not last night, of course. Snow had the good sense to not even try to provoke a conversation, and instead settled down next to Hope just as silently as Hope had been to him. Pretty soon, he drifted off to sleep, tired from the day's efforts, the two of them facing away from each other.
Today would be a tiring day as well. It was 6:40, and he needed to be at the temporary offices the mayor had authorised for the sector 11 reconstruction project by 8am at the latest. There were some files or something he was supposed to go through with someone, and then the rest of the day would be meeting all of the volunteers who had signed up so far and introducing them to one another. This couldn't be played like any old construction project, the mayor had explained. This was not a private business project, and the buildings wouldn't be owned by any given individual at the end of it. It was pro bono publico, and their approach would have to reflect that.
On leaving the shower, Snow got dressed and scarfed down some cereal hurriedly, but as quietly as he could. Hope didn't have to be at the academy until 9, he was sure, and since he was a sleepy sort, there was no chance of him getting out of bed any earlier than necessary. Snow would be leaving the apartment before Hope even woke up.
The day was indeed tiring. Meeting all of the volunteers took longer than expected, but in a way this was endearing – that so many people were willing to help out was extremely encouraging. There were well over two hundred of them, maybe nearer three hundred, and these were only the ones who were able to show up. According to Addison, one of the project managers, there were a hundred more who had also pledged their time, and the numbers were still growing. When added to the number of licensed construction workers who would be commissioned by the city council, the number of people who could be said to be involved in the endeavour stretched into the thousands. So when he finally climbed onto his velocycle at 5pm, he was resonating with the conviction that this project was genuinely something they had the capacity to achieve. It felt good. But no, there was something more than that – this was the biggest reconstruction project he'd been leading since Cocoon fell. This wasn't just building houses individually for those who were most in need; this was four square miles of metropolis, and would change the entire face of Palumpolum. It would take at least a year, and it was rallying what felt like the entire city's population. Snow was feeling reinvigorated and powerful again almost as much as he had done when he had originally formed NORA, although he was perhaps a little wiser now. He was leading a team to change the world.
His day wasn't over, though. He checked his communicator before he set off, and saw he had a message from Gadot – that was right; he had promised to help him move some more concrete. Groaning a little, he swung his bike around and set off in the opposite direction.
When he did finally get back to his apartment, it was after 9pm. He hadn't eaten since midday, but he needed a rest before he could think of preparing any food. He was mentally fatigued from the reports that morning, socially fatigued from meeting the volunteers that afternoon, and physically fatigued from shifting building materials with Gadot that evening. It had been the kind of day, he reflected, that he would normally be really looking forward to having Hope at the end of.
Upon entering the apartment, he found that Hope was already in the bedroom, in his pyjamas and reading a book. He gave away no indication of recognising Snow's existence as he clumsily removed his boots, stretched and groaned, and collapsed onto the bed, thrusting his arms behind his head.
Almost a minute passed in complete silence before Snow finally spoke up.
'I don't suppose you, uh, happened to completely forget about our arrangement last night?'
'Not a chance,' Hope replied without lifting his eyes from his book.
For the first time in a while, it not normally being in his nature, Snow began to feel sorry for himself.
xxxxx
xxxxx
The next day wasn't much easier. There were more heavy lifting jobs he'd agreed to do with Gadot on the other side of town in the morning, and the afternoon was filled with more tedious paperwork at the mayor's offices. True, this did need to be done before any physical work could begin, and true, it did make sense that Snow should be clued in on everything that was going on, but he still couldn't help but feel that this wasn't where his best talents lay.
There was another reason for his agitation, though. The manual labour with Gadot was one thing, as that kept him fully distracted, but when he was reviewing files and feeling bored, his mind had a tendency to wander. And when it did, it would wander to Hope. Visions of his sexy, slinky body – he'd caught a glimpse of him having a shower just before he left the apartment that morning and he hadn't been able to shake the image from his mind. He'd forgotten his keys, and on his way to the bedroom happened to glance through the bathroom door, which had been left half open… Hope was inside, only semi-visible through the steamy, translucent door of the shower, delicately rubbing suds through his hair, down his gorgeous neck and slender frame, and over his most sensitive regions. After staring for probably longer than he should have done, he forced himself out of his trance, collected his keys and left.
Snow couldn't help but wonder if Hope had left the door open deliberately, as a way to taunt him, or perhaps to seduce him. But if he was trying to get into his head, it had definitely worked. The graceful way he moved his hands over his own body… wow. Snow kept getting random spontaneous erections all afternoon each time he let his mind wander too far in that direction. All he could think was, thank the gods he'd been given a desk that he could hide himself under.
When he was finally allowed to haul himself home, though, he was in for a surprise. He'd known that today was one of Hope's days off from the academy, but he hadn't heard anything from him about what his plans were. So when he opened the apartment door and saw the living room was empty, he merely assumed that Hope had gone out somewhere to meet a friend or just enjoy the unexpected sunshine they'd got that day. He was setting his trench coat on the rack by the door, however, when he heard a noise.
It certainly sounded like Hope. Snow closed the front door silently and listened again: yes, definitely Hope. He'd recognise that moan anywhere. It sounded, well, sexual.
Looking back, Snow felt guilty in acknowledging that his first thought had been that Hope was cheating on him with someone else. He'd dismissed the thought rather quickly even at the time, knowing that Hope just wasn't the kind of soul to do that to someone, but he still felt guilty for so much as considering it. He might now rationalise that it was a projection of his own insecurity of unnecessarily leaving his boyfriend sexually unsatisfied rather than being indicative of a lack of trust in him, which only made him think he was spending too much time with Lebreau (who fancied herself as something of an amateur psychologist). But it didn't matter. Hope wasn't cheating on him. No, what he found when he opened the bedroom door was… infinitely more inviting.
Hope was sprawled on the bed, totally naked, with a shaft of evening sunlight stretching in through the window and draping itself over his form. The reason for his moaning was instantaneously obvious. With one hand he was slowly stroking his erect cock, and with the other he was thrusting some kind of sex toy in and out of himself. He was bucking his hips into the motion, and his mouth was parted in apparent nirvana.
Snow raised an eyebrow and folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe. He let the show continue for a few moments more before clearing his throat amusedly.
'Ahh!' Hope yelped, and threw his hands to cover his erection and the sex toy as best he could. It didn't really work.
'Having fun?' Snow asked.
'Well, I, uh…' Hope looked sheepish for a moment, but quickly switched to defiant. 'I don't have to be embarrassed! I haven't done anything wrong. When the cat's away, as they say…'
'I think this would be breaking the rules,' Snow chided playfully. 'We said no sex, remember.'
'This isn't sex! There's only one of me.'
'But the point was that we'd see how long we could go without sexual gratification,' Snow pointed out. 'I'm pretty sure that includes orgasms of any variety.'
'Was that made explicit?'
'It was implicit.'
'Oh, fine,' Hope complained. He removed the dildo from himself – in a pretty sexy way, it should be noted – and set it on a towel next to him. He made to stand up, but a thought seemed to strike him and he lay back again seductively, tracing a finger suggestively over his naval. 'Unless, of course, you wanted to come and finish me off… have your way with me… it's up to you.'
'No thank you,' Snow affirmed, ignoring the pronounced bulge in his trousers that would have argued otherwise. Gods, how much he wanted to. But he couldn't let Hope win.
'Hmph,' Hope concluded, and got off the bed to gather his clothes.
'I didn't even know you had a dildo,' Snow commented after a moment.
'Oh, I got it a couple of months ago. You know, for when you're away.' Hope brushed past him and headed for the bathroom. He paused at the door and turned back: 'It's not quite as big as you of course, but then what is?' he added with a wink.
xxxxx
xxxxx
The next day was… difficult. Snow visited the mayor's offices again in the morning, hoping that that day's work would somehow occupy his mind in a way that the previous day's had not, but was disappointed to find that things were actually going very well with the project and they didn't need much of his help. He insisted on staying for as long as he could, but by lunchtime it had become clear he was kicking around the office and not serving any real purpose. After reaffirming for the second time with every project manager that everything was indeed fine and they didn't need his help, perhaps he should take the afternoon off, he had been working so hard lately, etc., etc., he reluctantly left the offices and rode back to the apartment. Hope was at the academy, thank goodness, so he didn't have to worry about whether or not he could trust himself around his boyfriend. He'd gone three days without sex now, which didn't seem like relatively much, but he was definitely beginning to pine for it.
Perhaps Hope had had a point after all. Maybe he was noticing just how frequent and regular their trysts were, and how much he needed them, only now that they had been cut off.
There was something more than that though, Snow thought as he paced aimlessly around the empty apartment looking for something to do. He felt a little like someone had instructed him 'Try not to think about the colour green', or 'Don't you dare think about eating some delicious burritos'. He might not have wanted any burritos before, but being told that they were completely off the menu was making him want burritos for apparently no reason at all.
He stopped pacing and rubbed his stomach. Damn, now he wanted burritos.
'Oh, come on!' he shouted to no one in particular. 'I'm tougher than this. I can do this. It's all just a matter of willpower.'
And so, Snow endeavoured to cleanse his mind. He used some suggestions for meditation that Maqui had written down for him ages ago, that he had tossed aside and otherwise ignored. Maqui had become quite a spiritual kid, and had practically raved about the benefits of concentrated meditation the last time Snow had seen him, but Snow had not found a need for such a practice before now. He had always considered himself to be pretty relaxed, easy-going; it took more than getting caught in a traffic jam or running out of milk when he wanted to have cereal to get under his skin. No; for something to drive him to distraction usually necessitated it be something pretty major that had gone wrong. He thought briefly of Serah, and stifled the image.
In accordance with Maqui's instructions, then, Snow tried to get comfortable on the floor (it didn't take him long to decide that a cushion would also be preferable) and assume what was described as a 'receptive' posture. After doing a couple of breathing exercises, which he had to admit did make him feel a little calmer, he tried concentrating on emptying his mind. Trying to think about nothing at all was harder than he would have guessed. His stream of consciousness felt more like a metaphorical stream than he had ever previously appreciated – like a river he was trying to dam by throwing his hands up against its flow. He might manage a few seconds of silence before thinking again about Hope, or the sector 11 project, or how stupid Maqui was, or the constant buzzing of the refrigerator… he refused to allow himself to become frustrated, though. After sticking at it, he found he was eventually able to manage ten or fifteen seconds of stillness at a time, which felt like an improvement. When he finally glanced at the clock, he saw that he had been sitting on the floor for almost 45 minutes.
This has actually kind of worked, Snow thought to himself. He felt so much more… becalmed. He proceeded to tidy a few things around the apartment that needed tidying in an unhurried, undistracted kind of way, and eventually settled down with a magazine on the couch in the living area.
He was doing so well.
So well, that is, until he noticed something niggling at him in his peripheral vision. Something right in the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see what it was, and quickly identified the offending article.
Situated on the couch maybe three feet from where he was sitting was a pair of underwear. A bright green pair, with a white elastic waistband. He hadn't noticed them earlier on account of them being hidden by a misplaced cushion.
Obviously they were Hope's. He recognised the pair. He studied them abstractedly. Why were they here, on the couch? Hope was a fussily tidy person, bordering on fastidious. He was also very private. Leaving underwear so casually strewn about the apartment was not something he would ordinarily do.
It was possible that Hope had been folding some clothes, and somehow missed these when putting them away… but no, these were not folded, and the washing machine did not look like it had been used that day. The only explanation he could think of was that Hope had been wandering about the apartment in only his underwear that morning and eventually, being all by himself, decided that even they were too much of a restriction and discarded them.
Snow felt himself growing hard at the thought. His sexy, sleepy boyfriend, wandering about almost naked… settling down on the couch exactly where Snow was sitting now, deciding that the underwear was an unnecessary extravagance… pushing his thumbs under the waistband, raising his knees into the air and slowly peeling them off…
Snow reached out with one arm to pick the item of clothing up, and turn it over in his hand. With his other hand, he absent-mindedly started playing with his erection through his pants. The green underwear looked small. But then, Hope's underwear always looked small. So tight. Clinging to his little frame in the sexiest way possible.
Snow pulled his cock out of his pants and toyed with it gently. He wondered if Hope had had a hard-on when he'd taken the underwear off that morning. Maybe that was why he'd taken them off. The tightness of the elastic too restrictive. Needing to feel freedom. Maybe Hope had sucked on his fingers as he lay on the couch, and bucked his hips. Maybe he'd inserted those fingers into himself. Maybe he'd whispered Snow's name while he did so.
Snow was unashamedly jerking off now. He used the same hand as he was holding the underwear with, pressing the tiny garment against the proud hardness of his cock. It felt so good. He thought about his boyfriend, naked and horny and helpless.
And that might well have been the end of it; the bet he'd made with Hope could have so easily been lost then and there. That's exactly what would have happened, had Snow not then heard the sound of a key being inserted into and turning in the lock of the front door to the apartment. Oh hell, he thought.
He had time to thrust the green underwear away and out of sight, but not enough time to re-sheathe his throbbing penis. It was all he could do to assume a pose that he prayed didn't look too guilty and smile at Hope as he came through the door.
'Oh good, you're already back,' Hope said without properly looking at him. 'I was wondering…' he froze when he took in the full picture before him.
There was a brief silence while Hope looked warily at his boyfriend, and Snow grinned innocently back.
'Snooow…?' Hope finally asked, assuming the tone of a parent who had caught a child with their hand in the cookie jar.
'Yeah babe?'
'Were you jerking off?'
'Definitely not.'
'Right,' Hope said doubtfully. 'It's just, you're leaking precum onto the carpet.'
Snow looked down. There was indeed a thin, egg white trail leading down from the tip of his cock and towards the floor. He feigned surprise dramatically. 'Oh my!' he cried, and stuffed himself back into his pants. This done, he leaned back again and resumed grinning at Hope.
'…Looks like someone needs to get off more than he realised,' Hope gloated after a moment, setting some groceries down on the kitchen surface.
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'I could take care of it for you, of course,' Hope continued, ignoring him. 'If you really, really wanted me to. Of course, that would mean forfeiting the bet…'
'Absolutely not,' Snow affirmed, crossing his arms over his chest emphatically.
'If you're sure,' Hope said teasingly. He walked back across the room towards Snow. He appeared to be fiddling with something small in his hand. 'You'd better look at the toaster, then.'
'What?' Snow asked, confused. He instinctively turned his head to look at the part of the kitchen where the toaster was, and felt a sharp pain in his neck. 'Ow!'
'Sorry,' Hope apologised.
'What was that?' Snow asked, rubbing his neck where it had hurt.
'Just a little something I brought back from the academy. Thought it might help us settle this bet fair and square,' Hope explained casually, applying the same device to his own neck. He winced when the thing – whatever it was – was injected. 'It's a tiny chip that monitors things like heart rate and blood pressure from internally. It transmits that information as a signal which can be picked up on other devices. Pretty cool, huh?'
'It's fantastic, kiddo,' Snow said sarcastically, still rubbing his neck. 'What'll they invent next? An X-ray that works by kicking you in the nuts?'
'Don't be such a baby,' Hope rebutted. 'The point is, sex does things to a person. Heart rate elevates dramatically; neurons start firing like crazy. At least, so the medics tell me. Not really my field. But I'll hook these chips up to our communicators. Neither one of us will be able to have an orgasm without the other knowing.'
'I guess that's pretty clever,' Snow conceded. 'If anything, the thought that a machine is studying my every move from the inside will probably help me keep my hands to myself.' He paused for thought. 'Or off myself, I guess.'
