He works himself, pushes, until he’s too tired to think, to even function, because then he knows he’ll sleep.
Quick, hard, deep.
And then the dreams will come. They always do when he’s too tired to even roll over in his sleep.
There he is. Waiting, smiling, eyes bluer than Jeff remembers, shoulders strong enough to take anything on board. Arms that wrap around him, hands that pet and stroke as they get rid of every stitch of clothing Jeff can’t figure out why he even has on. He’s dreaming, he should be naked, shouldn’t he?
Then again, naked would mean he’d miss the thumb pad rubbing at the inside of his elbow at the shirt comes off, or the fingers brushing at his cock, those blue eyes smiling because their owner knows what he’s doing.
He knows Jeff loves to be bitten where his throat meets his shoulder, and sucked anywhere, everywhere, over and over until it’s all he can do to beg and plead, needing to come more than he needs water or air.
When Christian walks into the bedroom, late, a surprise for a lover he hasn’t seen in so long, he sees Jeff, naked because the bed clothes are long since gone, dreaming, moaning, hard, leaking and Chris knows how to make those dreams come true.
Jeff comes down Christian’s throat, hot and long, and he knows the second he feels that wet heat he’s not dreaming anymore.
Because he’s had this dream before and it’s never felt this good.
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RPS Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Christian Kane
Date: 2009-01-16 02:30 pm (UTC)He works himself, pushes, until he’s too tired to think, to even function, because then he knows he’ll sleep.
Quick, hard, deep.
And then the dreams will come. They always do when he’s too tired to even roll over in his sleep.
There he is. Waiting, smiling, eyes bluer than Jeff remembers, shoulders strong enough to take anything on board. Arms that wrap around him, hands that pet and stroke as they get rid of every stitch of clothing Jeff can’t figure out why he even has on. He’s dreaming, he should be naked, shouldn’t he?
Then again, naked would mean he’d miss the thumb pad rubbing at the inside of his elbow at the shirt comes off, or the fingers brushing at his cock, those blue eyes smiling because their owner knows what he’s doing.
He knows Jeff loves to be bitten where his throat meets his shoulder, and sucked anywhere, everywhere, over and over until it’s all he can do to beg and plead, needing to come more than he needs water or air.
When Christian walks into the bedroom, late, a surprise for a lover he hasn’t seen in so long, he sees Jeff, naked because the bed clothes are long since gone, dreaming, moaning, hard, leaking and Chris knows how to make those dreams come true.
Jeff comes down Christian’s throat, hot and long, and he knows the second he feels that wet heat he’s not dreaming anymore.
Because he’s had this dream before and it’s never felt this good.