ItsADuckStupid
Cadet
Title: So You Dream
Author: Duck
Rating: Strong PG-13
Summary: Companion to Just a Dream
Disclaimer: I own nothing, although I'd kill to own Michael Vartan
The green felt stretched out on the table reminds you of him (his eyes), even though he’s standing right next to you. You run the blue chalk onto the tip of the cue stick, watching as he breaks the sculpted triangle evenly, colored spheres rolling to different corners of the table.
You lied earlier, when you said you’d only played once or twice. The pool halls were places you’d go when you needed to improve your drama skills, and you learned the game well. But he doesn’t need to know that. Although it doesn’t bother him that you could kick his ass from now till sundown, you still like to help his self esteem every now and then (hockey, pool).
He looks at you, after knocking three solids into corner pockets, and you attempt to send the orange striped ball into the middle pocket. Your cue stick ricochets off the cue ball, and the ball hits a solid to the side, nearly knocking it in.
He smiles at you, dimples full fledged, and offers his assistance. You smile shyly in turn, (this is why you reserved the whole pool hall) and nod. His hands cover yours, with his arms wrapped around you, chest pressing into your back. Together you line up a shot, take aim (his breath on your neck is driving you crazy), and miss the cue ball by a startling distance. However, neither of you notice, because his hands have made their way to the hem of your shirt, and your body is twisted to receive the passionate kiss he is bestowing on you.
The lesson is long forgotten as you clear the green felt of any rolling objects, and he continues to slowly drive you crazy, removing clothing with ease, his fevered mouth replacing the cloth and burning your skin.
You both reach the point of ecstasy quickly, (after all, he knows how to drive you insane) and you collapse with him on the smooth felt. The air around is still crackling, and you feel the electricity in his touch. You are still connected, and you loathe having the feeling of completeness taken away, so you wrap your legs around his hips to hold him in place. He brushes hair from your face, a sweet gesture (an inappropriate one, after what just transpired), but appreciated nonetheless.
He leans toward your ear, his breath tickling your neck, the giggles shaking you and you instantly feel him move inside you. Your giggles quickly become moans, but his expression is one of complete seriousness. His voice (still tickling you) whispers softly in your ear.
“God I love you.”
He pulls back, waiting for you to respond, and you’re in total shock because the last time you said it, he never had a chance to respond.
Because you woke up.
You curse loudly as the light hits your closed eyelids, because you are never able to hold onto the dream long enough.
You’ve had these dreams since you were 19, since the night you became an intern at a bank downtown. It was you, your friends, your college, but the bank wasn’t really a bank, and you weren’t really an intern.
You were a spy.
The things you dreamed about (weapons, martial arts, terrorists) were things you couldn’t (can’t) even imagine in real life. You even dreamed about Noah, who lied to you constantly and had another life on the side (some things don’t change from dream to reality). You dated Danny for a while, but said no to his proposal, because you were scared he’d die.
Most of your dreams happen the night after you do something (like meeting Noah), but the ones with Danny and his death happened before (during your divorce). Then they stopped until you said no to Danny, which sent them rolling again.
But this time around, the dreams involved a new person, someone you’ve grown to love with fiery passion. And when you finally kissed him (after a year and a half), it blew your mind and invaded your thoughts at the worst times. Like when you were teaching your AP English class (you stopped mid lecture), feeling his touch and lips, only to be shaken by a concerned student.
Ever since you’ve kissed, your nights have been filled with a passion you weren’t aware you were capable of. His touch burns, and you feel the scorch marks for days.
As good as the dreams feel, and as much as you hate the thought of losing him, you are always reluctant to fall asleep. Because when you know how you’ll feel when you wake up (cold, alone, depressed).
You don’t even try to date anymore, because you’ve been asked too many times who he is (the name you moan while you sleep). You’re only 29, but you’ve given up on finding love in reality, because nothing can compare to the dream.
So, you fall asleep alone, dream with him, and wake up alone. It’s a fair trade, you guess, because you know you can’t live without him. Your lover, your soul mate, the one who drives you crazy with passion, your friend. And as much as you hate waking up cold and alone, and as many times you tell yourself its only a dream, you don’t know what you would do without him.
So you dream.
Author: Duck
Rating: Strong PG-13
Summary: Companion to Just a Dream
Disclaimer: I own nothing, although I'd kill to own Michael Vartan
The green felt stretched out on the table reminds you of him (his eyes), even though he’s standing right next to you. You run the blue chalk onto the tip of the cue stick, watching as he breaks the sculpted triangle evenly, colored spheres rolling to different corners of the table.
You lied earlier, when you said you’d only played once or twice. The pool halls were places you’d go when you needed to improve your drama skills, and you learned the game well. But he doesn’t need to know that. Although it doesn’t bother him that you could kick his ass from now till sundown, you still like to help his self esteem every now and then (hockey, pool).
He looks at you, after knocking three solids into corner pockets, and you attempt to send the orange striped ball into the middle pocket. Your cue stick ricochets off the cue ball, and the ball hits a solid to the side, nearly knocking it in.
He smiles at you, dimples full fledged, and offers his assistance. You smile shyly in turn, (this is why you reserved the whole pool hall) and nod. His hands cover yours, with his arms wrapped around you, chest pressing into your back. Together you line up a shot, take aim (his breath on your neck is driving you crazy), and miss the cue ball by a startling distance. However, neither of you notice, because his hands have made their way to the hem of your shirt, and your body is twisted to receive the passionate kiss he is bestowing on you.
The lesson is long forgotten as you clear the green felt of any rolling objects, and he continues to slowly drive you crazy, removing clothing with ease, his fevered mouth replacing the cloth and burning your skin.
You both reach the point of ecstasy quickly, (after all, he knows how to drive you insane) and you collapse with him on the smooth felt. The air around is still crackling, and you feel the electricity in his touch. You are still connected, and you loathe having the feeling of completeness taken away, so you wrap your legs around his hips to hold him in place. He brushes hair from your face, a sweet gesture (an inappropriate one, after what just transpired), but appreciated nonetheless.
He leans toward your ear, his breath tickling your neck, the giggles shaking you and you instantly feel him move inside you. Your giggles quickly become moans, but his expression is one of complete seriousness. His voice (still tickling you) whispers softly in your ear.
“God I love you.”
He pulls back, waiting for you to respond, and you’re in total shock because the last time you said it, he never had a chance to respond.
Because you woke up.
You curse loudly as the light hits your closed eyelids, because you are never able to hold onto the dream long enough.
You’ve had these dreams since you were 19, since the night you became an intern at a bank downtown. It was you, your friends, your college, but the bank wasn’t really a bank, and you weren’t really an intern.
You were a spy.
The things you dreamed about (weapons, martial arts, terrorists) were things you couldn’t (can’t) even imagine in real life. You even dreamed about Noah, who lied to you constantly and had another life on the side (some things don’t change from dream to reality). You dated Danny for a while, but said no to his proposal, because you were scared he’d die.
Most of your dreams happen the night after you do something (like meeting Noah), but the ones with Danny and his death happened before (during your divorce). Then they stopped until you said no to Danny, which sent them rolling again.
But this time around, the dreams involved a new person, someone you’ve grown to love with fiery passion. And when you finally kissed him (after a year and a half), it blew your mind and invaded your thoughts at the worst times. Like when you were teaching your AP English class (you stopped mid lecture), feeling his touch and lips, only to be shaken by a concerned student.
Ever since you’ve kissed, your nights have been filled with a passion you weren’t aware you were capable of. His touch burns, and you feel the scorch marks for days.
As good as the dreams feel, and as much as you hate the thought of losing him, you are always reluctant to fall asleep. Because when you know how you’ll feel when you wake up (cold, alone, depressed).
You don’t even try to date anymore, because you’ve been asked too many times who he is (the name you moan while you sleep). You’re only 29, but you’ve given up on finding love in reality, because nothing can compare to the dream.
So, you fall asleep alone, dream with him, and wake up alone. It’s a fair trade, you guess, because you know you can’t live without him. Your lover, your soul mate, the one who drives you crazy with passion, your friend. And as much as you hate waking up cold and alone, and as many times you tell yourself its only a dream, you don’t know what you would do without him.
So you dream.