The Dreamtrap - 6. Chapter 6

- VI -

“Fine...” he muttered and closed his eyes.

He tried to visualize his sleeping self and mentally kick it awake. Visualization went smoother than he thought it would, but waking up his passed out self turned out to be utterly and hopelessly futile. The sleeping figure didn’t even stir.

“I can’t...!” he finally spat out with frustration and opened his eyes. “I can’t!”

“Shit...” Desmond hissed and took a deep breath. “Fine, let’s play...” He peeled his back away from the wooden post, clearly intending to dash aside, pulling Raven after him.

“Wait!” Raven squeezed his wrist and quickly glanced around, scanning the area with narrowed eyes.

“What?” Desmond hissed impatiently.

“They shot from over there...” Raven glanced behind his shoulder.

“Yes,” Desmond nodded energetically. “And if we just keep sitting here, they will relocate, therefore, move it...!”

“Wait!” Raven dug his fingers deeper into the other man’s wrist, forcing him to stay put. “See that wall?” he nodded at the brick wall straight ahead, about two hundred feet away from their wooden post. It seemed that the wall was indicating the end of the operatic property.

“What about it?” Desmond asked shortly.

“That’s where we’ll go,” Raven nodded, and Desmond rolled his eyes without even trying to be subtle.

“We’ll be in plain sight...!” he said impatiently, and Raven gave him a small smile.

“No,” he said calmly. “We won’t be. It has been a while since I covered someone else along though,” he frowned. “Keep your ears open to my thoughts,” he glanced at the taller man without a smile. “If I start thinking something along the lines of ‘I can’t do it much longer,’ run faster. Got it?”

Desmond looked plain confused now.

“What are you talking about?” he frowned, and Raven took a deep breath without letting go of Specter’s wrist.

“You’ll see in a moment,” he muttered and briefly closed his eyes.

“Holy hell,” Desmond breathed after watching Raven disappear into nothing in front of his eyes.

“Go...” Raven said in a strained voice. “Goddammit, go...!” he hissed when Desmond kept staring at the emptiness in front of him.

That last hiss made Desmond blink, and he sprang on his feet, entwining his fingers with Raven’s when he realized that the minute he let go of the smaller man’s hand, he would be very visible in this open, plain view. They stumbled towards the wall, and a minute or so later, Raven’s grip tightened on Desmond’s fingers.

“Faster!” he thought desperately when he felt blood pumping viciously in his temples. “Desmond, faster...”

The ex-assassin immediately obeyed and picked up speed, dragging Raven after him. They finally made it to the wall, and Desmond dove behind it, yanking Raven on top of him when he fell on the ground. The smaller man collapsed into Desmond’s lap, and invisibility immediately shredded itself apart.

“I thought your only ability was immunity to drugs,” Desmond muttered while Raven was panting in his lap without moving.

“No...” Raven breathed. “I don’t even think of... that as... ability...”

“That’s ability in my book,” Desmond said seriously. “Does it always exhaust you this much?”

“No...” Raven slowly stirred and managed to sit up, being careful to keep himself out of sight and not popping his head above the short wall. “I can keep myself invisible even in my sleep; it’s as natural for me as breathing... When I have to cover someone else, however...” he took a slow breath, grateful for the fact that his heartbeat was almost back to normal. “...it’s an entirely different matter,” he finished with a slight nod.

“I see...” Desmond muttered.

Suddenly, there was that familiar to Raven chiming sound splashing through stale air. The brunet squeezed his eyes shut, muttering something under his breath with frustration. To his enormous surprise, however, Desmond immediately said:

“What was that?”

Raven’s eyes flew wide open and he stared at the green-eyed man.

“You heard it?” he asked incredulously, and Desmond snorted at that.

“I am not deaf,” he nodded firmly.

Raven shook his head.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said impatiently. “I’ve been hearing this sound for the last couple of days, but I would be the only one who could hear it...! It was driving me crazy; I thought I was hallucinating! Julian didn’t hear it and neither did Sebastian...”

“Who is Sebastian?” Desmond asked automatically, a tight frown forming on his forehead after this bit of information.

“The butler,” Raven sighed. Desmond snorted again.

“Maybe he was just fucking with your head,” he said in a low voice.

“No,” Raven answered immediately. “Julian already fired him once because of me; he wouldn’t risk it...”

Desmond gave him a slightly amused look and opened his mouth, about to say something, when there was another chime swaying through the air. Raven frowned at that.

“I have never heard it go off more than once in a row,” he said slowly, and Desmond’s expression darkened. “I don’t know what it means,” Raven finished.

“I am not sure I like it,” Desmond muttered and stared at the smaller man. “Raven, you have to wake up!”

“I...” Raven started saying, and then several things happened at once.

There was a startling shrill sound, ripping the silence apart; there were quick footsteps very close to their wall; Desmond desperately cursed, leaned closer to Raven, and screamed:

“Wake up...!”

Raven jerked backwards, startled, and suddenly, everything around him swayed with sparkling blackness. A second later, Raven’s body threw itself upwards on the bed and his eyes flew open. He sat on the bed, panting and shaking, blindly staring into the wall in front of him. Everything from his bizarre dream (“...holy hell, was it a dream...?”) had disappeared; everything but that high-pitched shrilling sound. Raven blinked when he finally realized that his phone was producing that sound.

His hand fumbled in his pocket for several seconds, and finally, he fished out the screaming gadget and flipped it open.

“Hello,” he muttered in a hoarse voice.

“Master Delamorte?” a pleasant contralto asked on the other end of the line, and Raven blinked again.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “Who is this?”

“This is Irene from ‘Framed Perfection’," the contralto said. “Sorry for an early call but I wanted to let you know that your frame is ready for pick-up, and we will be closing early today. We are expanding the store,” now the contralto sounded apologetic. “The construction crew will be here soon.”

Raven glanced at his phone-free hand and was pleased with the fact that it didn’t shake anymore. That’s right, he thought. He forgot all about the frame.

“What time are you closing?” he asked in more even voice.

“Noon,” the contralto informed him in the same pleasant manner, and Raven glanced at the clock; it read 8:30.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he said. “Thanks for calling.”

“My pleasure,” the contralto said professionally, and the line clicked dead.

Raven got off the bed and headed towards the bathroom where he quickly ran a brush over his messed up hair. Soon enough, he was on his way to the store.

****

The frame looked just as Raven hoped it would, to his greatest satisfaction, and on the way home, he started thinking about Julian and the fact that the blond never called him last night. Then he remembered that Julian said he wouldn't be back home until late afternoon, glanced at the car clock, and sighed deeply – it was only 9:10 in the morning. Then he started thinking about the night (and morning, for that matter) before the blond left, and by the time he parked the car in the garage, he was turned on to the point of aching.

His first thought was simply taking a cold shower thus calming down his overly excited body. Then he remembered that it was Saturday, and that the cleaning crew would not show up until eleven in the morning – on Saturdays and Sundays it would only be a cleaning crew out of the entire staff, and they would be gone in an hour at the most. Therefore, he shrugged while making his way to the bedroom, figuring that he might as well satisfy his body’s urgent demands, since Julian wouldn’t be back for at least three more hours (maybe even longer), and that he would be alone in the house for the next hour and a half.

“Plus,” he reasoned several minutes later, after he closed the bedroom door and was pulling off his clothes. “This would be a great remedy for all the stress I had to deal with in that damn dream...”

He kicked the blanket aside and slid onto the silk sheets, enjoying the sensation on his skin. It has been a while since the last time he’d done this, he thought while his hand slowly caressed his chest, sliding downwards. In fact, he hadn’t indulged in self-pleasing ever since he got together with Julian – ever since then, there was simply no need for self-gratification, just like there was no need of cutting his wrist to get his blood fix.

To his own amusement, he didn’t care much for the feeling of his own hand on his pulsating flesh – apparently, unless he was with the blond, his hand didn’t do much for him anymore. Raven sighed, threw his head back, and closed his eyes, kicking his imagination into gear. It wasn’t his hand wrapped around his sweetly twitching length, he thought. It weren’t his fingers caressing his chest and sliding towards his inner thigh. All that caress was coming from Julian.

That seemed to be enough because the sensations grew a hell of a lot more pleasant, and Raven bit his lip at that, half-swallowing his somewhat loud moan. He knew that he could get this over with rather quickly, but he didn’t want that; he wanted to stretch it for as long as he could. He forced his (“Julian...”) hand to keep the same steady, slow, sliding rhythm, rocking his hips slightly into his (“Mmm, Julian...”) fist, his eyes closed, head thrown back, teeth nibbling on his lower lip.

His grasp was rather tight, but combined with a mind-blowing, slow tempo, it felt safe. Raven’s limits expanded noticeably ever since he got together with the blond, who would keep him on the edge for God knows how long quite often. Thanks to that, Raven could last a hell of a lot longer than he could even four months ago, and he was able to control his body much better as well.

Soon enough, he stopped restricting his throat, letting his moans ring free, knowing that he was alone in the house. He slowly raised his left hand after tweaking the sensitive flesh of his nipple for the last couple of times, and brought it towards his face just so he could wrap his mouth around several of his fingers. He did that without opening his eyes, slowly running his tongue over his (“Julian, go slower...”) fingers, and after a few minutes he let the digits out of his mouth, and his hand swiftly moved downwards, aiming in between his slightly spread legs.

He let out a long, low moan when he slid inside himself easily, and added another finger, hungry for that full feeling he would always experience whenever Julian was inside him. Yet another finger somewhat did the trick, creating an illusion of fullness, even though it was nowhere near the original, but Raven was satisfied with the illusion for now. He would get the original when the blond finally came back home.

He rocked his hips harder, impaling himself on his (“Fuck, Julian, more...!”) fingers, and another low moan escaped his throat when his digits finally brushed against that sweet spot of his. He needed much more than a brush, however, so he sank his fingers deeper, rotating and rocking his hips harder than before. His hand started sliding in and out in synchronized rhythm with the one on his throbbing length, and after a few thrusts, he loudly moaned:

“Ah, God, harder...!”

The hand obliged, and the fingers started slamming into his buzzing with brilliant sparkles spot with more strength, making his back arch off the sheets and his hips jerk more violently.

“Mmm...” he groaned. “Yeah, like that... Oh, more...! Please, more...!”

****

Julian couldn't care less that he only got two hours of sleep -- he was impatient to get back home. The meeting last night went on for much longer than he thought it would, and when he finally got back to his hotel room, it was almost midnight. He thought of phoning Raven, but at the last minute, he reluctantly decided against that, figuring that the brunet would be asleep by now.

Instead, he phoned airport and demanded to know the time for the earliest flight that would take off in the morning. The earliest was 5:30 in the morning, which meant that he would be home by ten, and that was better than late afternoon. Therefore, he switched his original ticket with the one that promised better time, and on the way to the airport several hours later, he couldn't care less that he only got two hours of sleep.

He got home at ten minutes before ten, unlocked the door, and walked inside, wondering whether Raven was still asleep – the brunet could stay in bed until noon, he knew that. Then, a couple of minutes later, he frowned when he heard muffled moaning that was clearly coming from the bedroom upstairs. His frown started turning into a disbelieving, painful scowl when he heard:

“Ah, God, harder...!”

He immediately recognized Raven’s voice, and gritted his teeth, his stabbing fury kicking up the boiling degree notch by notch. “I warned you that I would kill you if you ever fucked anyone behind my back,” he muttered through his clenched teeth while he walked upstairs, his temples throbbing with dark, painful pulse. “I meant it...”

He gritted his teeth again when he heard:

“Mmm... Yeah, like that... Oh, more...! Please, more...!”

He tried ignoring the stabbing, sharp pain deep inside his chest, digging his fingernails into his palms. The pain wouldn’t take any of that – it simply would not be ignored, which it proved to the blond with gusto, blooming into something even bigger when Raven moaned from behind the closed door:

“Oh, yeah, don’t stop...! Oh, fuck, don’t stop...!”

Julian’s first (natural) reaction was to kick the door open. Then he decided against that – he was going to be as quiet as he could possibly manage, he thought, dark pulse in his temples turning into heavy thudding.

He carefully turned the doorknob with shaking from screaming, painful fury hand, and soundlessly walked inside, seeing red by now. He fucked someone as soon as Salamander was out of town? Julian couldn’t believe this. After everything that they had been through, after everything that...

Then he looked at the scene in front of him and stopped thinking altogether. Raven was lying in bed, his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, and he was fucking himself like there was no tomorrow. Julian stared at him without blinking, noting his mate’s shamelessly spread legs bent at the knees, his toes curling into the silk sheets, his hips aggressively bucking into his fist while three fingers of his other hand were pumping in and out of his entrance.

“Fuck, Julian, don’t stop...!” Raven growled suddenly without opening his eyes, and the blond finally blinked.

He is getting himself off while imagining it’s Julian who is doing it instead? All the blood that was threatening to blow blond’s skull apart, promptly rushed downwards, and Julian’s pants suddenly became very tight. Raven looked like he was completely lost in his fantasy, which was probably the case, and he called out Salamander’s name several more times, having no clue that the original was right next to the bed, getting out of his clothes rather hastily.

Julian noted that brunet’s hand was keeping steady, slow rhythm even though his hips were jerking upwards quite violently. That meant he got into it not too long ago, which was good.

“Julian...!” Raven moaned yet again. “Hell, go harder...!”

The blond hemmed silently, knowing that brunet’s fingers could only reach that far, therefore, the moaning demand for ‘harder’ would not be satisfied, unless Raven somehow managed to shove the entire hand into himself, which Julian doubted.

“Mmm... God, Julian...” Raven’s back arched off the bed, and the blond towered over his writhing body, leaning closer and smashing his lips against his mate’s mouth. Raven’s eyes flew wide open, reflecting startled panic. “Julian...!” he almost shrieked into blond’s mouth, his neck and ears turning dark-red.

He instinctively jerked backwards, his eyes huge and panicky, and Julian yanked him closer towards himself while pulling brunet’s suddenly rigid hand from between his legs.

“Jul... Oooh...!” Raven’s head flew backwards once again, a mortified expression on his face trading places with an ecstatic grimace when Julian replaced brunet’s fingers with his original self in one smooth, impatient move, granting that ‘harder’ demand almost instantly.

Salamander peeled off Raven’s other hand as well, wrapping his own fingers around the other man’s pulsating flesh, which didn’t deflate in the slightest in spite of the fact that Raven seemed mortified several seconds ago.

Raven finally opened his eyes and wrapped both arms around Julian’s neck, panicky humiliation nothing but a thing of the past, his hips pumping aggressively into Salamander’s tight hand. Julian kissed his mouth again, immediately recognizing that certain look in the brunet’s bizarre-colored eyes – the look that said that Raven would not last much longer as of now. Apparently, the shock of being caught in such vulnerable position pushed him all the way towards the edge.

Julian moved slightly faster, deciding against stretching this for too long even though it would be definitely a great thing. However, the incredible relief made him feel almost lightheaded, and right now, he didn’t want to make Raven endure the sweet torture that Julian would put him through quite often.

Raven buried fingers of his right hand in Salamander’s hair and muttered in a breaking voice:

“Come with me... At the same time... Julian, come with me...!”

The blond dove into that panting mouth once again.

“Yeah...” he breathed hungrily. “Yeah...”

Raven latched onto Julian’s lips without aiming for blood this time -- it seemed that he simply wanted to suck all air out of the blond without hurting him. They rocked in the same hard, semi-fast tempo for a while longer without unlocking their lips, and then Julian’s hips and hand started moving faster, the trend that Raven’s body followed immediately.

“Ooh...!” Raven breathed into blond’s mouth, his hips more aggressive than they were several minutes ago. “Don’t stop... Julian, don’t stop...!”

He wrapped his legs around Julian’s waist, pulling the other man even closer to his greedy, demanding body, and the blond obliged, pressing harder into his mate, leaving just enough room for his furiously pumping hand.

“Don’t stop...” Raven moaned again, as if firmly believing that Salamander was about to pull something in his usual manner, making Raven balance on the finest edge for tingling eternity. He could feel those small, sharpening spikes of impending orgasm shooting through him, and he knew that the blond was perfectly aware of that. “Don’t stop...!”

“I won’t...” Julian muttered, and his hips hardened their blows, as if giving Raven the guarantee of his promise.

Brunet moaned Salamander’s name several more desperate times, his eyes rolling backwards, and Julian (who could always tell when Raven was about to fly off the edge) tightened his grasp somewhat, making his thumb perform one of the rolls that drove Raven crazy, and let go of every single inner restraint of his, synchronizing his body with Raven’s shudders.

They exploded into brilliant oblivion at the same time, just like Raven wanted, and brunet’s head flew backwards again, while his back arched tightly into Salamander’s body, and his hands helplessly dug their fingernails into Julian’s shoulders – the thing that the convulsing blond welcomed.

After they stopped shaking and gasping, they wrapped each other in heat, breaths, and heartbeats without unlocking their arms.

“There is so much I need to tell him...” Raven thought without opening his eyes, letting his legs to slide off the blond’s waist. “The painting, the dream, that web page... That damn chiming sound... I will tell him after we wake up...” He lightly kissed Julian’s neck, and the blond tightened the circle of his arms without lifting his head. “I will tell him after we wake up... I also will have to get that frame out of...”

He fell asleep without finishing the thought. He had no way of knowing that the next time he would talk to his mate would be ten days from now.