I knew right away that it was a dream. Everything was just too perfect for reality. The room was in total darkness around us, but somehow I could still see you in perfect clarity. This time there wasn't any warm comforting safety in your hands. They moved over my skin in patterns that spoke of primal rituals, leaving glyphs traced of pure fire in their wake. Everything blacked out around the building pressure, constricting my chest until I couldn't even draw a breath. Everything but your eyes. Even when I forced my own eyes closed, the sight of your beautiful dark eyes, narrowed in the heat of passion, seemed to consume me.
Even if I knew it was a dream, the knowledge was empty. I'm at least honest enough with myself to admit that the only way I'm likely to ever have you is in my sleep. I'm damn well not intending to give that up.
Well, at least I wasn't. It's hard to stay asleep when you jerk yourself so hard that you fall out of bed and smack the floor.
I pull myself back to my feet, shivering as the cool air connects with my damp skin. Guess what? The cold shower apparently didn't work.
Fine. I give up. I've had enough nights without sleep over the past couple of years that I doubt one more is going to kill me. I absolutely refuse to lie here in the dark, staring at the walls until dawn, trying not to wonder where you disappeared to in the middle of the night. I don't even want to know if you're with her. Really, I don't. It's not like there's anything I can do about it. At least you're not alone.
You'd think I'd have gotten better at lying to myself by now, wouldn't you?
Shutting off that line of thought before it completely depresses the hell out of me, I grab blindly for the clothes I dropped on the floor before I got into bed, yanking them on in the darkness. I will not think about how neat and orderly your room is. I won't. This is ridiculous. Control, Lance, control. I need fresh air. Just go outside, out of these constricting walls, away from the possibility of the two of them, before you snap.
I grab my jacket and am halfway down the hall before mind my mind manages to finish arguing with itself.
It's all just about control.
Maybe if I keep telling myself that I won't have to think at all.
The guards at the gate don't do anything but nod as I slip out into the open darkness. Part of me, the part with the insane urge to yell at someone, almost wants to stop and ask why they don't question a dark lone figure slipping out in the middle of the night. Then again, I guess Allura has them all acclimated by now.
Ah, fuck it. As long as they question people trying to slip in, I guess it doesn't really matter.
I push everything else out of my mind as I cross the bridge, letting out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding and feeling the tension begin to drain away. I step off into the grass, releasing the death grip my fingers have taken on the hard leather of my jacket and turning my attention to the nighttime sky, the way I did when I was a frustrated kid. It's amazing how very rarely I look at the stars anymore. I look up all the time, but I never stop to see the patterns. You know, I'm not even entirely sure that Arus has constellations, much less what they are.
It's no wonder that I don't see you in the grass. The next thing I know I'm on my back in the grass with my gun in my hand, staring up the barrel of yours as you straddle my hips.
Talk about one of my odder fantasies suddenly coming true.
I can feel the heat rising in my face. I thank every god I can think of that you can't see through the darkness. I can feel the embarrassment burning through me, crystallizing into a familiar surge of tense anger, but it's oddly distant, almost muted, as if the darkness has somehow sucked the vitality out of even that familiar spark. That's not it, though. It's something much more basic, more elemental, than that. If I get angry, I'll push you away.
There's no way in hell that I'm going to do that.
Instead I focus on my hand, forcing my fingers to slacken around the handle of the gun until it drops unnoticed into the soft grass by my side. You're giving me that look again, the one I can't even begin to define. For once I can't think of anything to say, so I just stare, losing myself in the odd intensity darkening your eyes.
The gun pointed at my face begins to slowly lower. If you were anyone else, I'd be tempted to believe that the hand holding the gun was shaking. Not you, though. I can't remember anyone ever truly sneaking up on you. You're always too alert. You had to have known I was there. You were just testing me, right?
Why are your eyes so wide, then? What are you thinking?
I almost work up the nerve to ask, but then you do the one thing I never would have expected in a million years. The gun drops from your fingers and you kiss me.
You kiss me. Imagine that. It actually takes a minute before I can remember how to react, and even then it's my body that seems to take control. My hands reach up through your hair of their own volition, tightening around your neck and pulling you closer against me. My mind is too shocked to keep up. Good thing I've been dreaming about this moment for years, I guess.
It's when I run my tongue across your lips that reality comes breaking in. I am still dreaming. Know what gave it away? You really are shaking. The Keith I know doesn't shake, or tremble, or anything that would indicate a weakness. Therefore you must be a dream. I can deal with that, though, just so long as I don't have to wake up before it's finished. And if it's just another dream, there's no reason at all to hold back, is there?
Reaching up, I grab your arms and pull you off of me, back onto your side. I try to watch your eyes, just to see if you'll fight me for control, but you don't really let me. You grab me and pull me back into you, kissing me hard enough to bruise while you yank my jacket back off my shoulders. I let my eyes slide shut again, running my hands over you while I try to find buttons, zippers, velcro, or whatever the hell it is that holds that damn flight suit on. If this is a dream, shouldn't your clothes just melt away as soon as I touch them? Then again, what would be the fun in that?
My hands finally reach the hidden zipper and your clothes fall away beneath my fingers. The satiny feel of your bare skin against the cool metal of the zipper and the coarse fabric of your clothes drives me crazy. I want to prolong the moment, to let the sensations drag on and on until we both scream in frustration, but somehow I can't. There's still a part of me that refuses to bow before the irrefutable evidence that I'm dreaming, and I'm almost afraid to take too many chances. Imagine that one if you can.
You must feel the same way. You have most of my clothes off before I've even managed to unzip you all the way. This is the way I've always imagined it would be: the heat of your bare skin against mine, the tingling pain as your teeth actually bite into my skin, the salty taste of you beneath my lips.
Allura really doesn't deserve you. I can't even imagine her with her hair mussed, much less squirming and gasping under the heat of your hands.
I lean up and push you roughly back down onto the cool grass, kissing my way down the line of your breastbone and stomach. I can hear you gasp, feel the sudden violent intake of breath, as I take you into my mouth. I hold down your hips, try to keep you from choking me, but I can't help risking one glance. I stop and forget completely what I'm doing as I stare down at you. I was wondering what you'd look like completely disheveled? This is beyond anything I could have imagined. Your back's arched, your head thrown back and eyes closed. But it's the expression on your face that really gets to me. It's so…unguarded, so simple.
You open your eyes and stare up at me, lips parted while you pant for air. I think you're the most beautiful thing that I've ever seen. I lean down and kiss you, suddenly oblivious to everything but my own need. I let you push me down underneath you, and can only nod at the unasked question in your eyes. If this were real, it would hurt like hell. But it's not real, and no one's ever been unable to walk in the morning from a dream, at least in my experience.
I stare up into the endless stars in the sky as the wet heat of your mouth enfolds me and your fingers begin to work their way into me, my own breath catching in my throat. It hurts. Are dreams supposed to hurt? You add another finger, and finally I can't stand it. I grab for your hair, trying to hurry you along. I just want you. I don't think I've ever wanted anyone this badly before.
You don't even question me. You just kiss me once, then push into me. Hard. I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming out loud. You pause, one of your hands cupping my face.
"Lance?"
I think that's the first word I've actually heard you say. The concern in your voice forces me to look up into your eyes, but I still can't make myself talk. I just nod again. Maybe this is real after all. It's all right, though. It'll hurt, but not forever. There comes a point where pain just doesn't matter anymore.
You stare down at me for another minute with that inscrutable expression back on your face before you finally nod back and begin to move again. I was right. After a few minutes, the pain does mostly stop. All that matters is the shock of your rhythm, the heat of your hands and lips on my skin, and the silken tautness of you on top of me. There's nothing else in the whole universe. I try to look up at the stars again, but somehow I can't imagine anything more wondrous than your face or your eyes.
The heat builds up in me until I'm rocking against you, our bodies moving in time to the electric movement of your hands. You lean down to kiss me again and all thought stops until something finally explodes, a burst of pleasure so intense that it's nearly pain and the stars in the sky seem to swirl themselves into the darkness of your eyes. You follow me almost immediately, crying out into the skin of my chest and collapsing down on top of me.
I know we should get up, put our clothes on and creep back into the castle, but somehow I can't quite summon the energy to move. It doesn't really matter. Just a dream, right? I curl up against you, listening to the calming sound of your slowing heartbeat beneath my ear as I drop down into the soothing realms of deeper sleep.
Everything else can wait until morning.