I've decided I don't like page breaks anymore, so .. that's why this looks different.
I don't have much to say. This isn't a real chapter -- just a .. teaser, of sorts, maybe? I call it an interlude. I was going to have it as the beginning of chapter eight, but it ended up being its own thing, and when it comes to this goddamned story, I let it do what it wants. I just don't want the muses to run away, like they did at first. I want to keep them.
-o-o-o-
Because the Night
-o-o-o-
"A-ahh, god!"
His voice echoed in an empty room, reaching the ears of the redhead between his thighs and making him shiver deliciously. The other's tongue flicked teasingly over the head of his length, curled as he was taken into that unbelievably hot mouth – the blond writhed, reaching with trembling hands to tangle his fingers in the damp strands of hair at the base of his neck as his hips bucked. Another strangled moan slipped through tightly clenched teeth, breath hitching as he hissed.
"You're not going to stop, are you?"
The other lifted his gaze, green eyes sparkling as he tugged too-tight jeans from slender hips, a twisted grin painting his mouth. He laughed softly, as though only to himself, spreading pale thighs as he rose over the petite body beneath him; meeting the slightest resistance, he paused to press a soft kiss to the bend of a knee, smoothing a hand over heated skin. "Not when you make sounds like that when I touch you, Roxas …"
A soft whimper in the back of a dry throat as he lowered himself again, lips grazing his cock, fingers probing.
"A-Axel …"
-o-o-o-
"W-what? Jesus christ –"
I woke with a start, damn near throwing myself out of the bed and onto the floor – my hands were shaking, hell, my whole body was shaking like I'd been trapped in a sub-zero temperature freezer for half an hour. I took a deep breath and raked a hand back through my hair, dropped it into my lap with a thud only to notice that a certain part of my anatomy had been … awake far longer than I had.
What. The fucking. Hell.
I was harder than I thought I ever had been. And having just woken up from a … dream … a nightmare? I can't say that I'm accustomed to this sort of thing. It just … doesn't happen to me. I don't … I don't even do that. Masturbate. God, who the hell came up with that word, anyway?
Reaching for my pillow, which had somehow found its way to the floor, I dragged it back onto the mattress and punched it a few times for good measure before burying my head beneath it. I closed my eyes, tried to sleep. Sleep. Sleepsleepsleep. Sleeeeeep.
Fuck, this isn't working.
I shifted over onto my stomach, folding my hands beneath my chin and staring at the blank expanse of my headboard. The action put an added bit of pressure to my nether region and I groaned, unconsciously grinding my hips against the mattress. It was kind of sweet, the torture, the tiny tendrils of heat pooling in the pit of my stomach as I rocked my hips again.
You may as well not even bother trying to sleep as long as you keep this up, Roxas … you know you can't just … stop and recede back into unconsciousness.
I … wasn't so sure about that, but … it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than the throbbing ache in my cock.
Why are you hard, anyway?
Christ, that dream. I couldn't remember the whole thing – I'd never been particularly fantastic at remembering things I dreamt about after I'd woken up, but before now that had been a moot point. It hadn't mattered. I could, however, vividly recall the heat, the overwhelming quality of it as that mouth covered me. His mouth. Axel's.
The feel of his hands, warmer than they had any right to be, ghosting over my skin … the weight of his body pressing me down, the taste of his tongue –
How long has it been since I kissed him? Days? Hell, too long.
I flipped over onto my back, sighing audibly as the fabric of my boxers shifted. Forgetting for the shortest moment that I had never even attempted what I was thinking about, my hand found my cock and squeezed, and a moan slipped past my lips before I had the thought to close my mouth. Oh, this was bad.
My hips jerked upward as I recalled the way he'd looked at me in the dream, the sheer lust in his eyes as he took me into his mouth – the artful curl of his tongue, the light scraping of his teeth – I bit my lip as I began stroking, the light film of sweat formed on my palm serving well enough as lubrication. It was almost as if, even through my own means, I could feel him. Taste him.
When did you become such a whore for him, hm?
I'm … I'm not …
My mouth fell open as another broken moan slipped past, my strokes becoming harder, rougher. I was panting, breath ragged, as I felt this unfamiliar pressure building just beneath my navel. Is this … ?
You want him to fuck you, don't you?
"I …" I snapped my mouth shut, remembering that I wasn't alone in the apartment – If Zexion heard me, or god forbid, Demyx – I would never be able to live it down.
The pace quickened again and I licked my lips, all but tasting him on them as my back arched.
You want him. His mouth, his hands, his cock – don't you?
I … want …
Don't you?
My eyes squeezed tightly shut, his name tainting my tongue as I came – hard, pulsing, quivering beneath the sudden thickness of the air in my room, my voice betraying me. Motion ceased and I fought to breathe, to regain some sort of composure.
I … don't … know what I want. Do I?
I rolled over, reaching blindly for the towel I knew I'd left the night before; I cleaned the mess from my hand, my stomach, dropping the cloth back to the floor and promptly forgetting it. My mind was hazy – nevermind that I had just gotten off for the first time in my life, that I had even gotten hard from a dream involving another person. It was the person I was thinking of. I still wasn't entirely certain what it was about him that … attracted me so easily. What calmed me, just enough to allow him to get as close as he wanted without me freaking out completely.
Being with him was like a direct dose of diazepam straight to the bloodstream. Save for that goddamned panic attack at the club – and even then, he came to find me, worried about me. I'm not used to that. Not used to that at all.
I sighed, curling up beneath the blanket, my body finally appearing to allow me to go back to sleep. I tried not to think about tomorrow, or the fact that he'd invited me to his apartment for dinner. What if he knew? What if he could read it on my face, that I touched myself to an image of him in my head, to the taste of him on my lips from days before? He'd think I was fucking off my rocker.
I'd just have to … make sure I didn't think about it. Which, I wasn't sure how simple that would be – given the fact that he put himself as close to me as he possibly could, always found some way to touch me ever since I'd told him that he was the only person to have gotten that close to me. Ever. I sighed, wrapping my arms around my shoulders. I could do this. Couldn't I?
-o-o-o-
Desire is hunger, is the fire I breathe.
-o-o-o-
Sleep was a luxury I was persistently denied.
It wasn't happening. Not tonight.
