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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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867
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1/1
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His Turn

Summary:

Did he want so much, for so long that he couldn't tell a dream from reality?

Work Text:

So let me come to you / Close as I want to be

Close enough for me / To feel your heart beating fast

- Eyes on Me - FFVIII OST

 

He lay in the bed, his eyes still closed though he was no longer asleep. A chill had run through his body, awakening him. He didn't want to open his eyes to reality so he stretched his arm to the other side of the bed. Definitely alone. He sighed, wondering to himself whether the night before had been just been a dream, one so vivid it had been palpable to his senses, or had it been real. He could open his eyes; seek out evidence to confirm or deny his thoughts, but he quite couldn't bring himself to do that. He wasn't sure he was ready to face the possibility it was a dream.

With a heavy sigh, he concentrated on the images running through his mind. Memories he told himself firmly, they had to be real. He could still feel the surprise, the thrill that ran through his body when he looked up from his desk and saw him standing there. He had been so wrapped up in what he was doing, he hadn't heard him arrive. Jumping up from his chair, he had rushed over, both worried and hopeful that his assistance was needed. To have been sought out for that purpose would mean so much.

He stood in front of his unexpected visitor. Well into the other man's personal space but still much too far away for his senses. He stared in to the soulful eyes, eyes that showed so much if you knew what to look for; the pain, the loneliness and something else. Something he had never seen before, at least not directed at him. That flash of something was all the warning he had before a hand snaked out, looping around his neck, dragging him in to a fiery kiss, the intensity shaking him to his very core. A second arm coiled around his waist, pulling him closer, moulding their bodies together as one. It felt like he was going to devour him in front of all present. It occurred in the recesses of his mind that the audience would consist of all of his colleagues, possibly not a good idea.

It turned out that a public show was not on the agenda when after a few more hungry kisses, he started to manoeuvre the two of them away from prying eyes. They found their way to a small room with an even smaller bed, neither of the two speaking lest the spell of what was happening would be broken. Or at least that was how he felt. Though it is here where he starts to question the validity of his "memories". How would someone who had never been here before even know where the room was, unless... But no, that made no sense. No, it have to be a dream, a very realistic dream conjured up by his most fervent desires.

He was still in that room, the one that proved it was a dream, and too much a coward to open his eyes and confirm what had to be true. Swallowing nervously, he tilted his head along the arm he stretched out earlier and forced his eyes open. He blinked in disbelief as it was clear that though he was alone now, he had not spent the night that way. His lover had simply slipped away. Leaving without as much as a good-bye. Not a surprise really. He had gotten a night, more than he had ever expected. He'd just have to push the hurt, the disappointment he felt aside and concentrate on the memories. No one was going to take those away from him, no one.

He grabbed the extra pillow, the scent that clung to it was intoxicating as he set out to recapture the night before in his mind. He allowed the sensations of remembered touches, soft caresses and more urgent strokes slide over his body. He could almost feel the heated breath from the fevered whispered endearments and encouragement in his ear. Running his fingers across his lips, he ghosted the ardent kisses the two had shared. He became so lost in his recollections of their two hard bodies moving together, seeking pleasure and completeness that he once again missed some coming into the room he occupied, only the soft click from the door closing alerting him after the fact. He twisted around to look at the entrance, spotting the individual consuming his mind leaning against the wall. Hope started to swell up at the unexpected return.

Looking awkward, with an embarrassed, almost shy smile on his face, his visitor approached the bed. Looking more at his feet than at the man in the bed, he raised his hand to the back of his head distractedly while quietly stating, "I forgot something."

"Oh." Such a simple word carried so much disappointment . He tried to capture those eyes, see into that soul as he asked almost softly, "What?"

The eyes he sought finally came into view, shining with a combination of hope and fear. "You."