A Mere Figmentbyattics©
Summary: Amy has just returned home from her first year in college. She has a dream about her college crush. It's too realistic...
because it's real.
Only it's not him.
A/N: Hope you all enjoy this little plot bunny.
Unable to fall asleep in her stuffy bedroom, Amy sighed in exasperation. Having just returned home after her first year of college, she was bone-tired from the long airplane ride from California. Still, she just couldn't fall asleep, not even in her pitch-black room. Her mind was buzzing with the persistent chaos of finals, all the numbers, formulas, and facts blazing through her brain like a herd of wild horses. Plus, it didn't help that she could not stand the humidity seeping into her bedroom and the loud whirl of the overhead fan.
Maybe counting sheep would do her good, or watching a movie. But unfortunately for her, her laptop was dead. It had done its faithful duty, letting her finish off her important 12-page essay before its death.
She closed her eyes and tried to envision Henry, her lab partner, her first real crush.
He was kind, thoughtful, handsome, and rather shy. Which was why she had been attracted to him in the first place. It had been a slow-burning one-sided love. Her feelings had just crept up, and one day, BANG! She was staring at him with a new pair of lenses. Despite his devilish good looks, he never used them to his advantage in getting female attention or acting all-around superior to his peers. He had never even had a girlfriend!
However, she wished she'd had the courage to flirt, to test his reaction to her womanly charms, if she had any, which she doubted but no less, wished for. But when he had kissed her, in their final class period together, she had been too flabbergasted to respond. She didn't know whether to pinch herself hard, or slap him for not doing so earlier. She was really just too inexperienced, too stupid. And then it was too late. He left before she could get a word in, or a stutter, in her case.
It was only now, laying awake in her stifling bed, the realization dawned on her that she would have to wait a whole 3 months to find the answer. But looking at the bright side, there was hope, right?
In her usually chaste mind, she conjured up the striking image of Henry with his pale blue eyes, as he meticulously measured the right amount of ingredients before adding it to the flask. A thinking woman's sex god. She could really just sit there all day and watch his agile hands work their magic.
Just as she imagined him absentmindedly twirling a pencil on the pads of his thumb and index finger, like he always did as they waited for the chemical reaction, there was a knock on the door.
The door opened a creak. But he didn't move any closer.
"Come in. I don't bite."
The dark silhouette cautiously moved toward her bed, careful not to bump into anything, and sat at the other end of her bed, facing her.
"My room's been given away for the time being. That's what happens when you go to college for a long time. Random people move in. Can I sleep beside you?"
"Forgotten by your own family, how could I reject you?" Her teasing tone belied her true apprehension. None of her dreams of him had ever been so lucid. This was all too real. His voice was as clear as a bell. She could hear his bare feet pad across the hardwood floors. She felt the other side of her bed dip slightly as he joined her.
She didn't want this dream to end.
In all her exhaustion, she had invoked her deepest desires.
The bed was quite small and only able to fit one and a half average sized adults, but he didn't move any closer. He was most likely in a very uncomfortable position, hanging on the edge of the bed. She thanked him silently for giving her time to adjust to this new sensation of having a man in her bed. She hadn't slept beside someone since she was a twelve year old girl at a slumber party.
Her dream Henry was thoughtful too.
"You can move closer." She whispered timidly.
The bed creaked before she felt his arm on top of hers. She felt his hand grasp hers as he laced his fingers with hers. His firm bicep touched her breast. She smiled. What she wouldn't do to have him hold her tonight...
More blush-worthy deviant thoughts filled her mind, but realizing that this was nothing but a dream, she decided to be more assertive. There was nothing to lose.
She took his arm, lifted her head, and placed his arm down on her pillow before settling her head in the crook of his arm.
Feeling him slightly pull back, she asked, "Is something the matter?"
This was her dream. Why was he being nervous?
"Um, I have something to tell you."
Well, so do I. I've been harboring feelings for you for several months now...
"Alright. Tell me. Please." I want to understand the extent of your feelings. I don't want to make a fool of myself. Even if it is just a dream.
"I - don't - think - I... can." He enunciated each word slowly, as though there was something lodged in his throat preventing him.
"Tell me." She insisted.
"I like you. I've liked you for sometime now." His voice was a barely above a rasp when he spilled out the words so fast.
"I like you too," she said without hesitation, turning her body on her side to face him. This was her dream, out with her unrequited feelings!
She couldn't see his face, but she could feel the warmth of his breath spreading across her skin like a morning fog in autumn. It made her lips tilt into a satisfied smile.
In a fluid motion, he was above her. She was far too physically aware of him now, an overwhelming need washing over her.
She imagined his pale unfathomable eyes looking deeply into her. She couldn't see him, but she could feel every inch of him alongside her very sensitized body.
She throbbed for him.
He kissed her, probed her cavernous mouth with his expert tongue. She was rather shocked that she felt the prickly sensation of his stubble. She was sure he had never had it before. But this was the new and improved dream Henry. Maybe it was an intrinsic dark desire to have a man with a five o'clock shadow. Feeling bold, her tongue darted out to meet his in haste. When he finally released her mouth, she was breathless. His soft lips moved below her ear, to nip at the responsive skin, like he knew her well, knew what made her go over the edge. Before she could get used to the ticklish feeling, he was leaning off to the side and pulling the hem of her shirt up. She lifted her arms so he could remove the shirt, and in response, she tugged at his shirt. He removed his shirt swiftly. Next, Amy heard the rustle of him removing his boxers.
With a dexterous flick of his fingers, he unclasped her bra and slid the straps down her arms. His gaze dropped to admire her breasts despite the darkness.
"God, how much I've wanted to feel these." His hands carefully cupped her, and squeezed gently. Then, he tweaked her hardened nipples. She couldn't help but feel flush and dizzy, but luckily the darkness covered the first aspect. His lips latched onto her nipple and his tongue swirled around the receptive skin. To her shame, she involuntarily arched her back - the pressure too sharp - meeting his body with her own when he began to suck the tender flesh. She had never been so aware of her body before.
His mouth left her nipple and moved back up to her mouth. "Slow down there. You want this to last, don't you? If you do that again, I won't be able to. Keep as still as you can. Let me do this."
His hands skimmed the smooth expanse of her skin before resting on the boundary of her underwear. He pulled the waist band as far as he could before letting go, letting it slap against her hip bone. His fingers dragged her underwear down her thighs, past her ankles before casting them into the general direction of the window.
She could feel the throbbing within her growing more demanding. She could feel her wetness. But she wasn't about to show how desperate she was. She needed to contain it, suppress it. She crossed her legs tightly.
"Hey, hey what are you doing?" He murmured.
He parted her legs and pushed his middle finger shallowly into her without warning. At first the foreign sensation was uncomfortable, but his slow in and out movement eased her, until his whole finger was within her.
"You're wet." He growled as he grazed his thumb against her nub. She jumped away for a second, the intrusion all too intense. It was the first time anyone had touched her so intimately. He realized that she was too sensitive to touch directly, so he moved his thumb to the skin around her clit. As the feeling between her legs grew, she urged him on, his intrepid middle finger inside her feeling the slick walls of her inside, his thumb caressing the rigid nub, by moving her hips to create more friction before it was all too much.
Her soft moans filled the room. As she felt her core about to erupt, she pressed her hand against his shoulder to push him away, "Move."
"Doesn't it feel good?"
"It does, but I don't want to—"
Too ashamed to speak, she just lay quiet, feeling the intense feelings ebb.
"What?" He repeated.
He laughed. She burned.
About to turn away in humiliation, he pulled her back roughly. Now he was spooning her, his front pressed into her back. She felt something below twitch. He nibbled at her ear and whispered. "It's not pee. It's an orgasm. Just let go."
He reached to her front to continue his ministrations. Unabashedly, she ground against his fingers until the feeling returned, full-force. She writhed on his fingers.
"Ah, I'm coming!"
"Yes, that's right, just let it go."
Hurriedly, she began to jerk her body until she finally felt release, the point of no return, her moans coming out just as relentless. Her leg trembled in the aftermath.
"Shhh, you don't want anyone to hear." He reminded her.
After she regained consciousness, she felt him digging into her backside. He massaged her breasts while her breathing returned normal. He shifted his position so that he was hovering above her again. He spread her legs wider for him. Knowing she was wet, and completely lubricated and ready for him, he held his cock at her dripping entrance. But before continuing, he said huskily, "No."
She looked up in shock. He didn't want this?
He left the bed and picked up his boxers. Putting them on, he left the room, not even closing the door.
She felt used, damp and uncomfortable. Awful. Like she had done something wrong, and that he didn't want her. Even a dream Henry didn't want her. How would anyone want her?
She lifted herself from her bed and went into the adjacent bathroom. Not bothering to lock the door, she melted down to the tiled floor and cowered, wrapping her arms around her bent legs as close to her body as possibly. She didn't care that the tile was ice cold.
Just then, she saw him in the door frame.
"What are you doing here?" He questioned.
"You don't want me."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Yeah, I left to get a condom."
"Why do you need a condom?" This was a dream. Dreams didn't have any consequences. Dreams were fantasies.
"You took health, I'm sure you know." He scoffed, stunned by her juvenile question.
Too distressed to oppose, she remained on the ground. He came to her and bent down. "If you don't get up right now, I'm going to take you right here. Make no doubt; I will take you anywhere I can get you."
She rose to her feet and leaned back against the counter, waiting.
"You serious?" He asked, incredulous.
He picked her up easily and set her down on the counter. His hands moved to her buttocks and pushed her as close to the edge without falling off, barricading her with his body. He carefully lifted her thighs to angle her entrance. Then she felt the painful sensation of him pushing into her. She winced, holding her eyes closed, biting her lip to counter to pain.
Once he was deep in her, past the barrier, he growled in annoyance, "Why didn't you tell me?" She could feel him ready to pull out, despite how hard he was.
He didn't say anything more. He responded by allowing her to adjust to his girth before plunging back deeply. As he began to slide in and out slowly, she felt lightheaded and felt it fall back, but before she could hit the mirror, she felt the soft cushion of his palm break her crash. He moaned against her ear, "You're so tight. I can't hold out."
He thrust into her desperately, like he had been deprived for a long time. Which he was, considering her dream Henry was supposed to be a virgin as well, but he was much better than some fumbling first timer. But of course, he was perfect.
He was a dream.
His thrusts became rougher, faster and she leaned into him, to be as close to him as possible. She heard his moans, felt his hand digging into her buttocks as he pulled her close, to match every thrust. She held onto him dearly, her mouth against his neck to stifle her moans. To keep quiet like he wanted. On one particular thrust, it reached so deep, that she bit him. He hissed in pain and she was ready to apologize, but he met her open mouth with a lustful kiss.
If she was in reality, she would have been more apprehensive, given that this was her first time. But it was a dream. No worry. Just fantasy.
The pain never completely faded, but she assumed it was because it was her first time. But she did feel fullness, a completeness to her being. The sensation was maddening, making her mind complete blank. She only felt.
"I'm sorry," he muttered in a strangled tone into her hair as his thrusts became increasingly forceful, so deep. She could feel him losing control; the arms holding her against him began to shake. The sounds of their bodies joining became a desperate cacophony. His legs were shuddering every time he sheathed himself within her soaking core, and it made her feel so alive, so powerful. It was her body make he tremble. They were feeding each other.
He made a stifled sound before she felt him still within her. Afterwards, they were both still.
Still inside her, he carried her back to the bed and set her down. He brushed her hair away from her face, as though he could see how disordered she had become after their passionate adventure. He lay down beside her.
Even though this was a one night stand, she was glad that at least it didn't feel like that. He was breathing evenly beside her, the feel of his body comforting.
She dressed herself, as she was accustomed to.
She was completely sated and alas, sleep claimed her.
Early next morning, Amy woke to the sound of the water sprinkler. Her clock read 7:00. Her biological clock was still in tune to her school schedule, but she hoped after resting up a bit this week before her internship, she'd be refreshed as ever and ready to work. Remembering her rather vivid dream last night, she snuggled under her quilt blanket, reminiscing. As she wiggled backward, she was met with resistance. Something hard and a grunt.
She reached backward to remove it, but felt someone's naked chest. Her hand jumped away as she though she had been electric shocked. Troubled, she turned, taking the quilt with her.
"No fair." He said thickly.
Amy flinched at the gruff sound of his voice. No, this wasn't happening. She blinked. She pinched herself.
She stared back at him. Her eyes widen with disbelief and a touch of horror, as she pushed the quilt to him and moved to the edge of the bed. It felt like her heart was in her throat, and ready to tear through the skin and land on the floor, thumping in despair.
This was not happening.
This did not happen.
A pair of eyes flickered open, blinking several times to adjust to the light.
"Good morning sleepyhead."
"What are you doing here?" She asked, trying to hide the accusatory tone.
"That's not what I mean. I thought you were in Boston, I mean, mom told me that you weren't planning on coming home this summer because you're doing research with your professor and I --"
"What are you babbling on about?" He asked with a widening smirk. "Come back to sleep." He reached for her waist to pull her back under the covers, but she brushed him off.
Forcing herself to sound unaffected, she inquired, "Did you- we do anything last night."
He stared at her in disbelief, like she had just spit up a toad. "After the things we did last night, the things we shared, now you talk to me like I'm some stranger."
Now he sounded slightly annoyed, but there was still that playful glean in his brown eyes. He continued, "You're joking. Need me to remind you." The suggestive way he eyed her made her feel self-conscious. Needing something to distract herself, to reason it out with her resources, she moved back, avoiding her gaze. Only to realize that she was wearing nothing up a near-transparent white T-shirt and a pair of inside-out underwear.
Then she remembered, she had bit him. There would be a mark.
To her great dismay, indeed there was small red mark on the left side of his neck.
This was all too surreal; everything around her was spiraling out of control, like the conclusion of a high-speed chase.
Seeing her distress, he said carefully, "What's wrong?"
"I don't remember what happened."
"Oh." His voice sounded fallen.
"I mean, I do remember, everything. It' just- I-I thought you were someone else."
Without any delay, he closed the distance between them. He pulled her up to her feet and pressed her against the corner of the wall.
"What the hell did you just say?" He hissed.
"I don't know what happened." Tears were threatening to spill because of her overdue exhaustion and confusion, but she held them back by squeezing her eyes shut.
He pressed his groin against her stomach. "Do you feel that? Do you remember now?"
"I don't want to—"
"Stop! Don't tell me you don't remember that your told me you liked me! I wouldn't have pushed it if you hadn't told me that? God, you don't know how long I've been tormented with the thoughts of sleeping with you, to see your naked body, to feel you against me, beneath me, moving with me. Who the fuck did you think would be in the house at night for god's sake? My father? Don't tell me you're some sick freak—"
"Stop. I did not think that."
She explained her dream.
"I'm sorry. I never meant for that to happen. I meant to live without acting on my feelings for the rest of my life, but then you asked me..." His voice was weak, devoid of the previous aggression. "Your voice was so sweet. And feeling you next to me like that, so soft, I couldn't help myself. I would never do anything to compromise our relationship, and-and if you don't want to mention it again, I won't. I promise. I just... it's been a long time coming for me."
"What do you mean? Don't you hate me?"
"It's different. It's not what you think."
"S-sex doesn't change anything between us. We're still sib-siblings."
"We're not. And I won't ever accept you as my sister."
"This won't happen again." She whispered. She didn't have the energy to push him away. She was absolutely drained from this challenging exchange. "It was purely physical." She didn't look at him to confirm that he understood. She just hoped he did. Because if he couldn't do it, neither could she. She had been so weak last night. It was so wrong, to sleep with your stepbrother.
Albeit only knowing each other for two years before going off he went off to college. During that time they barely spoke to each other, despite attending to same school. He had been two years ahead of her, a basketball star. It had been a mostly hateful relationship because he thought her mom was a gold-digger and that she was the goody-two-shoes angelic daughter.