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Rudy sat up with a gasp. A sheen of rapidly cooling sweat and semen coating his body. Looking around wildly trying to get his sleep-fogged brain to figure out what the hell was going on. Things started to register one by one.
.Home. He was home. That fact was enough to calm his racing heart a bit. It was early morning and he was in bed. That made sense considering the last thing he remembered was dragging himself home with barely enough energy to strip down and crawl into bed. What else? Glancing around he realized the blankets were on the floor, must of kicked them off. Grabbing them to straighten them back over the bed and himself with more care then necessary, he was valiantly trying to ignore a few other facts that he was becoming aware of.
He was naked. That’s okay, he occasionally slept naked. He was alone. Yeah, that was a little depressing, but still okay. He had cum drying on his stomach. He, Sheriff of Glory, had just cum in his sleep like some teenager. That’s more than depressing, that’s pathetic. Groaning, not really wanting but having to admit it, a least to himself. He finished his thought. He had a wet dream. A wet dream. About Mike. Again.
Dropping back in the bed muttering a soft but heart-felt "Fuck", he couldn’t help the self-depreciating laugh that bubbled up when he realized that statement wasn’t exactly true.
"No matter how much you want it to be", he admonished himself quietly.
Grinding his palms into his eyes trying desperately not to remember the dream, he started repeating what had become his new mantra sense Mike got back into town.
"Don’t think about it."
"Don’t think about it."
"Don’t think about it."
It wasn’t helping. Not that it ever did. Images from the dream filtered through, making his dick twitch and his chanting take on a note of hysteria. Despite his best efforts the dream was coming back to him, in full color. Complete with sound that his sub-conscious willingly supplied.
God he hated these dreams. But if he was honest with himself, he also loved them. Loved that he could have Mike, even in this small way. Even if it was just wishful thinking and a vivid imagination. Finally giving in letting fantasy and reality combine, letting the dream flow over him along with all the casual touches and hugs he and Mike ever shared. More than ready for the reaction the thoughts would cause, he wasn’t surprised when blood pooled in his groin making him hard so fast it actually hurt. Feeling vaguely guilty about what he was about to do he pushed the blankets down passed his hips. Taking in a quick breath when the cool morning air hit over-sensitized skin.
Running a hand down his chest and stomach feeling the muscles he had developed sense high school. Rudy let himself think about what he wanted. What he’s wanted for years. Mike. Mike under him. Under him and naked, needy, writhing. Face flushed, hair tousled, legs wrapped around him desperately trying to bring their bodies into closer contact.
Mike, his best friend. The only guy he’s ever really wanted and really really shouldn’t. Mike Dolan, novelist turned reporter, annoying, irritating, and sexy as hell. Mike, who’s always supportive, all concern and caring even while he’s being so sarcastic you want to smack him. Mike, who has no concept of personal space, incredibly intelligent and completely oblivious.
Mike, who just thinking about could get him so turned on he was shaking. Lying in bed with the blankets around his thighs. One hand gripping the sheets, the other gripping his shaft. Slow pulls from base to tip over and over, in perfect counterpoint to the lazy thrusting of his hips.
Breathing getting erratic as he imagined Mike. Mike wanting him, telling Rudy just how much he wanted him with broken pleas and breathy whispers. Groaning out exactly what he wanted Rudy to do. Where to touch. How to touch. When to touch. The most consistent being Mike’s order of, "Now".
And of course Mike never satisfied with one word, felt the need to elaborate. In detail, right in Rudy’s ear.
"Now Rudy, I’m ready now, need you now, in me now."
"Rudy, that’s not enough", Mike stated loudly even as he gasped and pushed back on the fingers that were stretching and thrusting into his ass, seeking and finding his prostate. Mike let out a stifled scream as that spot deep inside him was stroked over and over.
"Damn, he’s beautiful", was the only thought that Rudy had. Thought it, but was smart enough not to say it. That’s not something you say to another guy, is it? But damn, it was the only thing that seemed to fit. Watching Mike thrash and writhe, sweat breaking out on his skin, back arched and taunt. Needing a release he couldn’t seem to find. Needing more.
Mike echoing his thoughts out loud.
"Rudy I need more, please."
Rudy planning on ignoring the loud demand was caught off guard by the softly uttered ‘please’. That whispered ‘please’ was enough to snap whatever control Rudy had left. Removing his fingers brought on very vocal protests from Mike. Although they were quickly silenced by a few kisses and quiet reassurances. That and the fact that Rudy’s dick was now covered in lube and slowly but insistently pushing into what, before tonight, had been ‘no mans land’.
Stretching, burning, but no real pain. That was Mike’s answer to the concerned questions Rudy hadn’t even voiced yet. Glad but not really surprised by the lack of pain, sense Rudy was just about positive that he wasn’t actually capable of hurting Mike, physically or emotionally. No, he couldn’t hurt Mike but he also couldn’t stop inching forward until he was buried balls deep into what, very well might be the tightest ass on the face of the planet.
Good lord, it felt incredible. Surrounded by a heat he couldn’t have imagined. It was all he could do to breathe. Deep halting breathes, trying to gain a little control. Trying not to cum instantly from finally doing what his mind and body have been telling him to do for the past eight years.
Mike wasn’t helping with issues of control or restraint either. Far from it. He was wiggling experimentally, saying it didn’t hurt, "just feels full, feels good."
Rudy doing his best to hold still while Mike’s movements became bolder more insistent. Mike reached up and made a grab for Rudy, pulling him down. Wrapping his arms around the man who was braced above him. The action bringing their bodies into contact, trapping Mike’s straining dick against Rudy’s stomach. Creating a friction that made him open his mouth on a silent scream.
A scream that turned to be sobs muffled into the crook of Rudy’s neck. Sobs that turned to promises. Promises from Mike to Rudy. Promises of love and life, promises to be good, to stay out of trouble. Promises of a new car, a house, a credit in the newspaper. Anything, anything at all, so long as Rudy moved and moved now!
And he did, knowing it wouldn’t last long. Already feeling that familiar tightening at the base of his spine. Trying to fight it off. Trying to draw it out. Knowing there’s no stopping it but resolving to see Mike lose it first. Wanting to push him over the edge and moving to do so.
Rudy lifted up reaching between them and taking Mike’s dick in a firm hold. Pulling steadily and angling his thrusts to hit that one spot inside Mike. Knowing exactly when he found it when Mike started jerking erratically, wildly. Trying to get away from and closer to Rudy all in the same movement. Until finally he was there, going still and clinging to Rudy as release slammed through him spilling out in hot pulses. Triggering an answering reaction from Rudy, causing him to shudder violently as he lost himself deep inside the man beneath him.
Opening his eyes Rudy came back to himself and took stock. He wasn’t with Mike. There was no chance of spooning up with his new lover in post-coital bliss. Not even close. In fact things were pretty much the same as when he first woke up. It was still morning, he was still in bed, still alone, still had cum drying on his stomach, and he was still completely and utterly pathetic.
No, this was more than pathetic. This wasn’t his sub-conscious and his body working against him in his sleep. No this was he, Rudy Dunlop. Former geek and current Sheriff jacking off to thoughts of his very male, very very off limits best friend.
God he was sick.
"Sick sick sick ", Rudy told the ceiling he was staring at.
"Sick and stupid", he added a moment later.
Sick for using his beat friend like that, even if said best friend would never know about it. And stupid. Stupid for the flicker of hope that he couldn’t get rid of. Hope that maybe, just maybe Mike could want him. Who was he kidding, Mike didn’t want him. Not like that. Mike wanted Ellie and he couldn’t blame Mike for that. Ellie wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes, smart too. Maybe a little weird hanging around dead bodies all the time. But that was her job after all.
No, Mike didn’t want him. Cared about him, yes. Worried about him, yes. Counted on Rudy to get him out of any trouble he got into, definitely. But he didn’t want him. Mike’s only interest in Rudy’s sex life was to try to push him into an easy lay with a wannabe vampire. Which was something he was trying hard to forget.
So with enough brooding thoughts to last awhile Rudy resigned himself to the new day and the fact that he had to go to work. As he pushed out of bed towards a much-needed shower he decided he was not going to stay depressed all day. He had a good life, a good job, he was happy. He was. Not entirely convincing himself he turned around from adjusting the spray of the shower to watch as steam settled on the mirror, slowly erasing his image.
"A good life", he said to the opaque mirror in front of him. The mirror didn’t disagree.
Shaking his head and stepping under the water Rudy started the methodical process of washing away any evidence of the morning. Shampoo, soap, and hot water could be a miraculous thing. Proof of what he’d done washed from his body and his mind. His heart was another story. But one he’d have to live with. One he had been living with for a long time. So long now it didn’t even really hurt anymore. It was familiar, almost comforting.
Comforting to know some things don’t change. No matter what happens between the two of them, bad novels, years apart, strange cases, light-hearted insults and arguments, one thing always stayed the same. They were friends, best friends. It would have to be enough.
"It’s enough", Rudy suddenly announced to the shower tiles.
"It’s enough", he said again. Not to convince himself but just to make sure the tiles heard him.
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