#AtoZChallenge — O is for Oblivion

OAwake, pt iii. (Read Awake pt i and pt ii.)

1499 words. Definitely contains adult content. Please leave a comment if you like what you read. 😊 

Oblivion (Awake pt iii)

It was quiet but Simon woke up anyway, out of habit, and… stared blearily at his roommate in the bedroom doorway. Low light from the TV in the adjoining room crept in and illuminated his outline, flickering and mercurial. There were about three million things unusual about that, starting with breaking the unspoken arrangement of leaving each other alone after they turned in for the night. Not to mention the fact that his roommate was shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose-fitting pajama pants that dipped low on his hips.

Simon sat up quickly, letting the blanket and sheets pool protectively in his lap just in case. “Hey, uh… what’s up?”

They stared at each other for a moment until he felt restless, almost crawling out of his skin. Then his roommate shut the door, plunging them into the relative darkness of only the moonlight filtering in through the window panes. It took a moment for Simon’s eyes to adjust, but first he felt the mattress dip with new weight. A moment later he could see his roommate leaning towards him, bracing himself with a hand on the side of Simon’s far leg, breathing the same air — or would be if Simon were breathing.

Before he knew what was happening his roommate kissed him, at a speed just short of hesitant, with little pauses between movements that gave each of them the chance to pull back. Neither of them took that chance until Simon’s lungs were screaming for air  and he gasped, leaning back against the headboard and gulping for breath.

“What, I, you?” Simon sputtered. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He’d gotten so used to the wall being between them that he didn’t know what to make of it suddenly coming down. What had happened to forbidden getting him off? Because this was an unmistaken invitation, and god he wanted it.

He didn’t get an answer, not out loud. His roommate just looked at him, giving Simon’s memory of those slow-slung pajamas a chance to catch up, and then kissed him again. This time there were no pauses. Their bodies drew together, rolling and twisting in the blankets until blissfully horizontal, and Simon let out a giddy groan as his hand landed on his roommate’s hip and pushed the pajamas down because this was really happening.

It was so much better than listening through the wall. If Simon’s appetite was bottomless before, now it sent ravenous tremors through his entire body as he wrapped one hand around his roommate’s eager hard-on. Lying on his back, his dark-adjusted eyes saw the other man bite his lip, heard him moan, felt his roommate’s hips roll instinctively down. They were close enough that the friction was glorious.

All those nights of waiting until the last moment to touch himself, all the delayed gratification, was bearing down on him now. Simon knew he would come embarrassingly soon but his mind was too blown with pleasure to care. He still couldn’t quite believe this was really happening, couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t stop kissing him in case this was a dream and stopping would make him wake up. His roommate didn’t seem to know where to put his hands, which Simon hadn’t expected, but finally they both settled on his ass and squeezed. The moan that rocked through him at the new stimulation knocked something loose inside and he convulsed, coming harder than he could ever remember doing before. Eyes dilated and unfocused, Simon just barely retained the presence of mind to keep his own hand pleasuring the man beneath him until there was a warm explosion within his fist and his roommate shouted into his shoulder, whole body going rigid for a moment until he relaxed against Simon with a soft gasp for air.

He drifts off into a light doze. This dream is something about oversleeping and being late to work, but he feels refreshingly unbothered by it. In fact, he’s in such a good mood that when one of the kids is sent home early from school for causing a scene with the frogs in science class, he takes her for ice cream before heading to the house. A great big father-daughter banana split, just what they always had when she was little, before the second baby. He orders and extra large one and she asks if he’s gone crazy. This mood is so good it’s like being drunk.

His roommate was shaking him gently awake. When he saw Simon’s eyes open he gave him a slow kiss. “Stay with me.”

“Hm?” Simon blinked slowly at him, not sleepy so much as peacefully sated. That was the answer to world peace right there, he thought. Fuck fighting, everyone should just have amazing sex all the time and let everything else go ignored.

Smiling softly, his roommate wrapped an arm around his waist. “I’ve got to admit, I didn’t think it would feel this good with a guy. I should have spent less time worrying about it and more time in here with you.”

Simon felt his cheeks growing faintly warmer. “Are you saying you knew?” And here he’d thought he was being so discreet. Always so quiet in his room. Always so hands to himself outside of it. Maybe not always so eyes to himself, but he was only human.

“Not until recently,” his roommate replied, and then sat up. “I kind of… felt you through the wall. I felt what you were doing.” He gave Simon a look as though trying to gauge how believable that sounded. But Simon was prepared to believe it. After all, he’d been imagining he felt the other man through the wall for… how long now?

When not immediately scoffed at, his roommate continued.

“I guess I always did know, but I was distracted. I mean, it’s hard to keep track of that sort of thing when you’re coming in someone else. All the signals get jumbled together.” Smiling apologetically, he traced his fingertips over Simon’s now bare hip. What little clothes they had been wearing earlier had either landed on the floor or gotten tangled up in the sheets.

The contact sent warm tingles through Simon. He would be ready for a second go in a minute or two. “That’s okay,” he murmured, pulling him down into a kiss. His roommate settled back down against him and entwined their bodies again. It felt as natural as breathing, and the giddy feeling in his chest was only from how long it had taken to realize that this could really happen. Now he was ready, hard and pressing against his roommate’s leg, aching for more release. It was like being a teenager again.

“Wait, I want to ask you something.” His roommate pulled back a fraction of an inch so they could see each other, and said, “Simon, this is really important. How… How long have you felt this way about me?”

Reluctantly, Simon stilled and tried to think. He’d just been wondering about that, but hadn’t been able to dredge up an answer. “It feels like forever,” he admitted. “I’m not exactly sure.”

“Try to think.” The other man was watching him closely, earnestly, and Simon did want to try for him. “How long have we been roommates?”

There was the question, delivered in a serious voice, and then there was the hand that snaked between them and began to stroke Simon encouragingly. His eyes fluttered shut but he still tried to concentrate, honestly, because he suspected that if he didn’t his roommate might stop. “I, um… I dunno…” He bit his lip to stifle a moan. “A few years?”

His roommate gave him a gentle squeeze. “What time of year was it when we moved in together?”

It was getting very hard, very hard indeed, to concentrate on the questions. Simon shook his head and gasped, “I don’t remember, uhhhh… Fall maybe?”

“No, really try to remember.” His roommate kissed his mouth, then his cheek and along his jawline, nipping briefly at his earlobe. He kissed down his neck, leaving a trail of oversensitive skin in his wake. It was a game, Simon realized, one that felt so good to play even if he wasn’t sure what the point was.

He continued to wrack his brain for the response the other man wanted. The hand curling around him between his legs wasn’t leaving much brainpower for thinking, but Simon followed the anticipation of orgasm back through all the memories of wanting exactly this. There had to have been a beginning to all those nights spent touching himself to the sound of ecstasy bleeding through the wall.

In the moment of climax it came to him, simple and impossible. Simon clutched at his roommate, going rigid and seeing nothing but white sparks and knowing, with the slow realization of sunlight creeping over a horizon, that all of this is just—

“A dream!” he yelps, shooting up in an unfamiliar bed.

(Awake pt iv.)

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