Chapter 3.

Jon wasn’t sure how he made it through the rest of the evening and back to his apartment. His dream lover had been there, or at least a guy who was a ringer for him. He could still feel the brush of the man’s hand along the back of his neck, and thinking about it sent goose-bumps down his body. Had the man even realized what he was doing to Jon? It wasn’t the same man, of course, he knew that.

Dreams and reality were two different things, and Jon had just been alone too long, and was now starting to fantasize about every good looking man he met. Especially the ones that looked like his dream lover, and touched him with soft hands ...

He’d looked for him at the ceremony, after the award, and thought he’d caught a glimpse of him once or twice, but everyone wanted his attention and his photo, and then Connie was kissing his cheek and shoving him into a cab for the ride home.

“It’s late, sweetie, and you deserve to take a cab just this once.”

He could, logically, call the Foundation the next day and find out who had been handing out the awards, but he didn’t want to. The man wouldn’t really be his dream lover and he’d look like a fool if he went to see him at his office. What would he say?

“Hi, darling, I’ve been having those erotic dreams about you, and I was wondering if you wanted to roll around in the dirt with me?”

Then, after he was kicked out of the guy’s office, he’d still be alone. It was nice to just have the illusion for a little while. He felt like he was drunk, but in the best possible way, and he wanted to stay that way.

He put the embroidered shirt carefully away on its hanger, and sat where he could look out of his window, staring at nothing. What had really happened back at the ceremony? He felt like he was lost between waking and dreaming, back in that half-way stage he’d lived in when he was in the hospital, shot full of morphine while they were trying to keep him alive long enough to sew him back together. Maybe he was still there, or had he died after all?

He ran one hand down the scar that began on his abdomen, feeling the ridge of it where it disappeared into his pants, the proof that he was still living. Such a fine line between life and death, reality and dreams …

When there was a knock on the door, he was still distracted and didn’t stop to think about who would be visiting after midnight. Then he wondered if he was dreaming again after all.

Dream lover, still in his tux, tie undone and shirt half unbuttoned, stood there staring at him. Damn, but he was a fine looking man, well over six feet, solidly built, longish dark hair, dark eyes, firm lips ... just like in his dreams.

“Um ...” He could only stare at him.

“I forgot something ...”

“Oh. Um, what did you forget?”

“You.” Dream lover moved into him, pushing him gently backwards into the living room. “I forgot you.”

Hands reached up to cradle his head, and those firm lips moved down towards his. Then they stopped.

“I mean, if ...”

Jon remembered to push the door shut behind the big guy before wrapping his arms around his neck. He didn’t want the dream lover to let the real cats out. The hand that had teased at his hair before stroked it now, and strong fingers sank into it, pulling their heads closer together.

“Yes. Whatever the question was, the answer is yes.” Usually he was in bed and asleep before the dreams started, but this was alright too.

A big hand ran down his bare back and pulled him closer, and he moaned and rubbed against that strong body. The one that had too many clothes on it. He knew that this was his dream lover because the man knew exactly how to touch him, running his hands down his back, one of them curving around his neck and pulling him in closer.  He didn’t waste words, either, but how could he speak, anyway, when his lips were exploring Jon’s, pushing his mouth open to give his tongue access?

The big man backed him down the short hall towards the bedroom, as Jon struggled with the rest of the tiny buttons on the dress shirt. When they both came up for air he bit gently into the soft neck that was so temptingly in front of him, right under his mouth, and struggled to breathe and think at the same time. He decided that the thinking part was over-rated, and gave into feelings instead.

“Sweetheart?”

He nibbled at that beautiful neck, and made better progress on the buttons now that they were standing still.

“Sweetheart?”

“Huh?” He didn’t understand why his dream lover was trying to interrupt now that they had made it this far and they had a bed in sight.

“Sweetheart, are you sure?”

Sure about what? Sure about the bed? Yes, it was definitely a bed. He pulled the big man’s shirt out of his pants, then turned them both around and pushed him over backwards onto the bed, hoping they weren’t going to land on either of the cats. To hell with it, the cats could look out for themselves tonight.

He went down on top of him, kneeling over him and caressing that broad chest with both hands before moving them up to tangle into the long dark hair that was just barely spilling over the covers.

“God, so beautiful, just kiss me, please.”

In his dreams the big man had usually been on top to start with, but this was okay, he liked this too. He ground his crotch down on the growing erection under him, and brought his mouth back to those firm lips, softly at first and then with more hunger. Whatever the man had been asking about was forgotten as both of his hands came up to the back of Jon’s head, fingers tangling into his hair, and the kisses became harder and more urgent.

He pushed his tongue into a welcoming mouth, but lost any illusion he’d had of dominance when he was rolled over and pinned down by the weight of that beautiful body, his own mouth invaded by a searching tongue. He sucked on it, and sank his fingers into the dark hair that was falling like a curtain around their faces. God, such beautiful silky hair. He could spend all night running his fingers through it, if he didn’t have better things to do.

That big body settled down between his legs, rubbing urgently against him through their clothing, the man’s need as obvious as his own. Still too many clothes. He pulled the shirt down off the man’s arms, the two bodies getting tangled up together as he did. He hesitated briefly with the shirt half-way down those strong arms, holding the man’s arms behind his back with it, debating pinning him, tying him with it, but not tonight. No games tonight, just intense need.

He was momentarily stymied by the cuff links – who wore cuff links these days? – but got them unhooked and threw the shirt out of the way. Then he could concentrate on running his hands up and down the length of strong arms and a big well-muscled torso, appreciating every inch.

“God, babe, so beautiful ...”

They rolled around on the bed, as they had on the soft ground in Jon’s dreams, and it was every bit as good. His hands stroking that body, strong hands running up his ribcage and fingers sinking into his hair, bare skin against bare skin and hungry mouths moving urgently against each other, exploring soft skin. He licked and sucked and kissed, and wanted more, more before it ended and he woke up again.

He found his lover’s belt buckle and managed to get it and the top clip of the dress pants undone, then eased the zipper down over an impressive erection, moaning as he ran his fingers over it through silky boxers. This was further than they had made it in any of his dreams, and he was really hoping he didn’t wake up any time soon. Wiggling around underneath his lover, he managed to get the man’s pants and boxers down over his hips, and then was totally distracted by the feel of that lovely smooth hard cock in his hand.

“Oh god, yes, babe, feels so good ...”

Jon wrapped his hand around the thick length that he had always known would be there waiting for him, and bit gently at the man’s neck, feeling him tense against him and suck in his breath. This was so much better than the dreams had ever been.

Dream lover kicked out of his remaining clothes, and then rolled them both over again, freeing up his hands to work on Jon’s pants. Jon hesitated suddenly as the big guy peeled his soft cotton pants down, worried about how the guy would react to his scars. He’d never had this problem in his dreams. Lover interpreted the sudden cessation of movement in the wrong way.

“God, I’m sorry, sweetheart, this is too much, too soon ... ”

Jon decided to take the plunge. He’d never had to explain this to a dream lover or a real lover before, but there was a first time for everything.

“No, god no, want you, but I took a shell a couple of years ago, got some ugly scars, haven’t ...”

Dream lover pulled back, and Jon cringed and curled up away from him, because if this was reality, not a dream, why in hell would such a beautiful big man want a wreck like him? And what if nothing worked properly, if he couldn’t keep it up? He hadn’t been with anyone since …

The big man held him in his strong arms and murmured into his throat, stroking his neck and his back, then gradually uncurling his body, working his way down it as he laid him out on the bed.

“Shush, sweetheart. This part looks okay,” as he kissed his way down Jon’s scarred belly.

“And this part is all here, and this seems to be functioning just fine ...” One big hand cradled Jon’s velvet sac and then that clever tongue ran up the length of a cock that was indeed working just fine.

Jon cried out softly and arched up into his mouth, and his lover sucked on his broad head, pulling at the rim gently, then backing off to lick the first liquid drops out of his slit.

“Hmm. This seems to be more than okay, sweetheart. Have to do some more research, obviously ...”

Research? Jon was still trying to figure out what the big man was talking about when he demonstrated, taking a firm grasp at his base and sucking in as much as he could of his thick length, working up and down and clearly trying to drive Jon insane with pleasure. He hadn’t felt this much incredible sensation since forever, since before they’d cut the pieces of metal out of him and told him that there could be some nerve damage, but only time would tell. They hadn’t mentioned dream lovers. Tonight, in this man’s arms, even if he was dreaming, he wasn’t having any problems at all.

He clenched his fists in the covers and bucked up under his dream lover and cried out, and then, far too soon, erupted into his lover’s hungry mouth. It had been too long since he’d been with anyone, and his mind wanted it to last forever, but his body wanted release now, and the physical need won out.

“God, I’m sorry ... been so long …”

“Shush, sweetheart. Feels so good to make you feel this good.”

He felt his lover slicking up a finger from spit and his cum, and then that finger probing back, teasing around his tight hole. He cried out and writhed under the tender hands, and the big man kissed his belly softly, stroking down his lean rib cage and across his chest.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.  We’re just going to play a bit, take it slow. We have all the time in the world.”

Jon tried to find the words to explain that they didn’t, they only had until daylight, when he woke up from this delightful dream, but then that finger breached his tight ring and twisted into him, and he forgot everything. All he had left was feelings, and those feelings were telling him that he wanted more, wanted everything from his big lover before the man disappeared again.