Sequel: Afterglow ›
Status: Complete! Sequel coming soon.
Miles Away
Nine.
There’s a wetness against Alex’s neck that he can’t identify, and that’s the first thing that wakes him up. He doesn’t open his eyes yet, focusing on it, and it’s… moving? Trailing down his neck in a line, sloppy but also gentle. He’s nervous, and he doesn’t know why quite yet.
He learns the answer as soon as he hears a familiar voice, one that usually brings him comfort. “Fuck, Alex. You’re beautiful, so goddamn beautiful.”
It’s John. And those are John’s lips. On his fucking neck.
He would be freaking out right now, but he can’t bring himself to. And when he tries to speak, a moan falls from his lips, and he’s suddenly way too aware of the feeling between his legs and slowly building up in his lower stomach, travelling up his body. He doesn’t know what the feeling is, but it’s good. No - it’s more than that, a word he can’t even come up with.
His eyes flutter open, another soft gasp escaping as he begins feeling John’s hands travelling up his legs, those freakishly long fingers dipping into every crevice and dip he can seem to find. It makes Alex shiver. They travel inward, resting on the top of his thighs, and soon there are thumbs rubbing against the most sensitive skin he has.
Yeah, that was when Alex realized he was naked. Completely naked. They both were.
John then sits up straight, seeming to tower over him. Their eyes meet, and Alex stares into those beautiful green eyes he remembers seeing every time he opens Skype. The ones that are the last thing he sees before drifting into a beautiful sleep.
“Are you ready, baby?” John asks, his voice going deeper than Alex thought it could. It isn’t scratchy, it’s low and smooth, the most beautiful melody. The pet name and the vague question give him goosebumps. But why?
Alex finally finds the words and the willpower to speak, even if it’s shaky, and he squeaks out, “Ready f-for wh-what?” John doesn’t answer at first, and only smiles, one of those smug ones that always appear after he’s made some sort of joke. Usually a dirty one.
“To wake up.”
Alex wakes up for real this time, startled and confused. Not only that, but he’s dazed, and sticky.
Sticky?
His eyebrows furrowed quickly, and he sits up in bed. He has no idea how to process that dream, and he knows that they were about to get intimate, but the real question was how intimate ? What was John asking him what he was ready for?
When he eyes the clock on the nightstand behind his bed, he notices the time, and shit . If he didn’t get up and get ready to leave right now, he was never going to make it to school in time. While he would love to stay home and all, his grades said he needed to be in class.
He’s rushing then, throwing his covers off. He stumbles upon jumping up but is fast in catching himself, holding onto the nightstand. He has time to brush his teeth, smooth out his hair, and change, and he does just that. There was just one thing, though.
When he peeled off his underwear, he quickly found out why he thought of the word sticky. He came. A lot. That’s when it hits him that he had just had a wet dream, a wet dream about somebody he was quickly coming to call his best friend. He was confused, and to be quite honest, feeling embarrassed and guilty. Really fucking guilty, for some reason.
He didn’t message John that morning.
He learns the answer as soon as he hears a familiar voice, one that usually brings him comfort. “Fuck, Alex. You’re beautiful, so goddamn beautiful.”
It’s John. And those are John’s lips. On his fucking neck.
He would be freaking out right now, but he can’t bring himself to. And when he tries to speak, a moan falls from his lips, and he’s suddenly way too aware of the feeling between his legs and slowly building up in his lower stomach, travelling up his body. He doesn’t know what the feeling is, but it’s good. No - it’s more than that, a word he can’t even come up with.
His eyes flutter open, another soft gasp escaping as he begins feeling John’s hands travelling up his legs, those freakishly long fingers dipping into every crevice and dip he can seem to find. It makes Alex shiver. They travel inward, resting on the top of his thighs, and soon there are thumbs rubbing against the most sensitive skin he has.
Yeah, that was when Alex realized he was naked. Completely naked. They both were.
John then sits up straight, seeming to tower over him. Their eyes meet, and Alex stares into those beautiful green eyes he remembers seeing every time he opens Skype. The ones that are the last thing he sees before drifting into a beautiful sleep.
“Are you ready, baby?” John asks, his voice going deeper than Alex thought it could. It isn’t scratchy, it’s low and smooth, the most beautiful melody. The pet name and the vague question give him goosebumps. But why?
Alex finally finds the words and the willpower to speak, even if it’s shaky, and he squeaks out, “Ready f-for wh-what?” John doesn’t answer at first, and only smiles, one of those smug ones that always appear after he’s made some sort of joke. Usually a dirty one.
“To wake up.”
Alex wakes up for real this time, startled and confused. Not only that, but he’s dazed, and sticky.
Sticky?
His eyebrows furrowed quickly, and he sits up in bed. He has no idea how to process that dream, and he knows that they were about to get intimate, but the real question was how intimate ? What was John asking him what he was ready for?
When he eyes the clock on the nightstand behind his bed, he notices the time, and shit . If he didn’t get up and get ready to leave right now, he was never going to make it to school in time. While he would love to stay home and all, his grades said he needed to be in class.
He’s rushing then, throwing his covers off. He stumbles upon jumping up but is fast in catching himself, holding onto the nightstand. He has time to brush his teeth, smooth out his hair, and change, and he does just that. There was just one thing, though.
When he peeled off his underwear, he quickly found out why he thought of the word sticky. He came. A lot. That’s when it hits him that he had just had a wet dream, a wet dream about somebody he was quickly coming to call his best friend. He was confused, and to be quite honest, feeling embarrassed and guilty. Really fucking guilty, for some reason.
He didn’t message John that morning.