Pacey let out a quiet moan, his hips lifting off the sleeping bag just a little. He’d been having these sorts of dreams for a while now but he hadn’t told anyone, not even Dawson. And now he was having one. In Dawson’s house. In his bedroom.
Only it didn’t feel quite like a dream.
It felt real and warm and liquid all at once. His hand snaked down; ready to ease the tension as he did every night it seemed only to encounter the fine silk of hair. His eyes snapped open and he raised himself up, staring down at his crotch in the pale moonlight.
Staring down at his best friend. “D…Dawson? What are you doin’, man?”
Dawson licked his lips and backed away slightly, shaking his head all the while. His eyes were wild and dark in the moonlight. “No…nothing.”
Pacey tightened his hold in Dawson’s hair and wouldn’t let him move back any further. “Nothing?”
Dawson’s eyes darted down to Pacey’s erect penis, shining with his saliva in the cool night. “I…well…”
They stared at each other in silence, the air around them shimmering with confusion and frustration. Dawson licked his lips again and shrugged off Pacey’s hand. He got off the floor and stalked toward his dresser, his own erection silhouetted against his boxers, tenting them out.
Pacey just lay there, watching his friend as he paced the room. His cock was aching, his nightly arousal compounded by the warm feeling Dawson’s mouth had sent curling through his stomach.
“I didn’t…mean…” Dawson blew out a breath. “You were lying there make…making these noises. And I got down on the floor to make sure you were all right.” He refused to look at Pacey as he sat on the edge of the bed. “And you were…all sweaty. I threw the sleeping bag off you and…and…”
“Sucked my cock?”
“No!” Dawson blushed bright enough that Pacey could see it in the dim room. “You were moaning and thrashing and…I reached out to wake you and…and my hand…grazed…”
“My cock?” Pacey’s voice rose a little, the absurdity of the situation getting to him, but doing nothing to alleviate the fact that he still had a raging hard-on.
“I guess…” Dawson buried his head in his hands. “God, Pace. I touched it and you let out this sound…this moan and it just…oh God.”
“It what?”
“It…” Dawson shook his head, keeping his face pressed to his palms. “It…It was like something shooting through me. This…this molten…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I pulled away and you arched up toward me, like you wanted…wanted more. So I touched you…again.”
“Touched me?” Pacey got to his knees; not caring that his boxers were halfway down his thighs and his erection was exposed for both of them to see.
“I moved your boxers out of the way…eased them over your…your…” Dawson gave up, knowing he’d never get the words out. “And then I touched you. And then…you seemed to like it so much. You were moaning and thrusting and…” He finally dared a look at Pacey who was staring at him strangely. “And I just…just…”
“Decided to suck my cock?”
“You keep saying that!” Dawson glared at his friend. “Quit it.”
“What do you expect, Dawson? I come over for a night of movies, not a night of…of…gay porn! I came over to have a bar-b-que with you and your parents not…not this!” He gestured down at his penis; surprised to notice it was more erect than it had been. “I…”
“I’m sorry!” Dawson was the picture of abject misery. His shoulders were slumped and although his gaze was locked on Pacey’s erection, he looked defeated. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to…to…” He watched in fascination, as Pacey’s penis seemed to move, strain toward him. “Pacey?”
Pacey groaned and got to his feet, needing to move away. Dawson’s longing gaze was making his body ache, making him think things he most definitely did not need to be thinking. Instead, he just stood there, his feet rooted to the spot.
Dawson raised his gaze slightly, licking his lips almost instinctively. Pacey was just in front of him, his erection tantalizingly close. “What were you dreaming about?”
The whispered words kept Pacey frozen. “Sex.”
“With who?”
“Just sex,” his own voice was breathy as Dawson’s hands reached out tentatively, stroking Pacey’s thighs. “I dream about it all the time.”
“Me too,” Dawson admitted. “Every night it’s like this volcano inside me, lava in my stomach, swirling around and…” he ran his thumbs just along the outer edge of Pacey’s inner thighs, almost touching his balls. “And I just want to release it all.”
Pacey nodded. “I dream about this friend of my sister’s. She’s got these boobies…” He gasped softly as Dawson’s thumb brushed the sac, heavy with want. “And I think about…about…”
“Me?”
Pacey didn’t respond, merely locked one hand behind Dawson’s neck and guided his best friend to his shaft. Dawson opened his mouth, sliding Pacey inside him. The heat surrounded him, engulfed him and it was better than he’d ever dreamed, better than he’d ever imagined.
He took a small step forward, shifting his balance. Dawson moaned deep in his throat, the vibration sending shivers of sexual something along Pacey’s spine. Stilling, Pacey looked down at Dawson’s blond hair, his head moving slowly but steadily, his tongue doing the same. He didn’t know how Dawson knew what he was doing, didn’t know if it was just instinct or guesswork. Didn’t care.
His hand moved up into Dawson’s hair, stroking the fine strands with shaky fingers. Dawson’s own hands moved over Pacey’s thighs, circling around to squeeze the firm flesh of Pacey’s buttocks. Pacey hissed, sucking in air, the muscles under Dawson’s hands tightening.
Dawson pulled back slightly, focusing his energy on the sensitive tip of Pacey’s penis, swirling his tongue over the small opening. Pacey whimpered and relaxed into Dawson’s touch, thrusting forward. Sliding his tongue along the underside of Pacey’s shaft, Dawson pulled the entire length back into his mouth, sucking hard.
Pacey’s fingers massaged Dawson’s scalp as he mewled helplessly, the rush that he’d only found with the help of his hand and the Playboy he’d stolen from his father, now surging through him. He fought against it, unsure of what it might mean, unsure of what was actually going on, unsure of what he and Dawson – oh God! He and Dawson! – were doing.
One of Dawson’s hands tightened on his ass while the other eased over, his fingertips brushing along the curved edge, slipping between the two globes to brush the sensitive skin hidden there. Pacey bit down on his lower lip, tasting blood as he struggled not to cry out, the hot flood of his come spiraling into Dawson’s eager mouth.
Dawson sucked greedily at Pacey’s cock, bringing his hands back around the front of his thighs. Pacey was trembling; his knees weak as Dawson released him. He sank to the floor and rested his head on Dawson’s knees. Dawson’s own hand was shaking as he lay it on top of Pacey’s head, smoothing his short, dark hair. “You okay, Pace?”
He nodded, the soft mumble of his response lost in Dawson’s flesh. He raised his head slightly and stared up at his best friend. “I think.”
“Me too.” Dawson nodded, surprised that he no longer felt shy or embarrassed. “I…”
Pacey shook his head and raised himself up a little until he and Dawson were face to face. “Don’t.”
“Don’t?”
“Don’t analyze this, okay, D? Let’s just let it have happened and let it go?” He was between Dawson’s knees, holding onto his thighs as he looked at him, their eyes holding one another’s. Pacey let loose a tremulous breath and closed his eyes, doing what he’d asked Dawson to do and not analyzing his thoughts as he pressed his lips lightly to Dawson’s.
Dawson whimpered and opened his mouth, letting Pacey’s tongue penetrate him. His arms grasped Pacey’s shoulders as he felt his best friend’s hand ease his boxers over his erection. His hands moved up to frame Pacey’s face, guiding the kiss as Pacey’s hand wrapped around the exposed flesh.
They broke apart as Dawson gasped, thrusting up into Pacey’s hand. “Oh…yes,” he sighed. Pacey watched Dawson as he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back.
Lowering himself onto his heels, Pacey moved his free hand to the base of Dawson’s cock, supporting him as he ran his other hand down the length of his shaft. Dawson thrust up to meet him, his hips bouncing lightly on the bed with every stroke.
Pacey reached up and pushed Dawson onto his back before moving his hand back down to the warm flesh of his friend’s blood-thickened penis. With nervous fingers, Pacey fondled Dawson’s balls before running a finger along the thin layer of skin beneath them.
Dawson moaned loudly, pressing his fist to his mouth to keep the sound from traveling. Pacey grinned as he felt the blood pounding through his friend. Moving his free hand to the tip of Dawson’s cock, he swiped the thick moisture from it then lowered his fingers back to the skin he’d so recently caressed. Dawson was thrusting wildly, urging his body up into Pacey’s hand as if trying for something just out of reach.
With his slick fingers, Pacey let his fingers travel down further, slowly penetrating the tight muscle of Dawson’s ass, nudging the flesh apart carefully. Dawson grabbed the pillow from his bed and buried his face in it, holding it there with both hands as his body convulsed, a hot milky stream pouring from his aching cock.
Pacey eased away from him, rocking back on his heels. Dawson lay there, his body still spasming, the thick white liquid spilled all over his stomach and T-shirt. Neither of them made a sound for a long time then Dawson slowly removed the pillow and set it back on the bed.
Pacey got off the floor and lay down next to Dawson, both of them staring at the ceiling. Dawson reached over and took Pacey’s hand for a second, giving it a light squeeze. “Pacey?”
He squeezed back then moved out of Dawson’s grip. He stood up and tugged his boxers back on. “I’m gonna…” he gestured toward the door and the bathroom down the hall. “Are we…?”
Dawson tugged his wet T-shirt off and balled it up. He stood and pulled his boxers back over his spent flesh. “What?”
“Pretending this never happened? Doing this on a regular basis?” Pacey looked down at the floor. “Still best friends?” Dawson laughed and Pacey glared at him. “What? What’s so funny?”
“After that, you think I’m going to tell you we can’t be friends?” He laughed a bit longer. “Jesus, Pacey. I’m going to piss off the guy I just gave a blow-job?”
Pacey laughed as well, the reality of the situation settling over him. “Still best friends, then?”
“Best friends,” Dawson agreed. “But maybe we should cut back on the benefits package, huh?”
“You kidding?” Pacey stood at the door, smiling at Dawson. “I was thinking we could invite Potter into this particular aspect of our little menage and have some real fun.”
“Please. Joey’s…not like that.” Dawson shook his head. “She doesn’t like either of us like that.”
“Well before tonight, I would have said we didn’t like each other like that.”
“Do we?”
Pacey shrugged and opened the bedroom door, making sure neither of Dawson’s parents were in sight. “We’ll figure it out soon enough.”
“How’s that?”
“Because it’ll be pretty clear if it ever happens again.”