Wake-Up Call

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30th June 2020


The warm mouth around his erect cock gave Alex the most pleasant waking moment he'd had in years. For a moment he wasn't sure where he was — when he was — because this? The last time had been years ago; was it whatshername ... Jessica? Jennifer? She'd been into that whole 'surprising' thing; it got quickly boring. Or maybe that brunette he'd picked up and promptly forgot the name—

The unruly mop of blond hair rising and falling, half-obscured by the quilt but marked primarily by the lavender-grey ears standing proud either side of it, grounded Alex firmly in the here and now and, most particularly, the what the fuck?

Then Milos's hazel eyes looked up, locked onto his, and Alex decided to just enjoy the damn experience. And God, it wasn't like the elf's years of experience weren't paying off: his lips were velvet against Alex's skin and his hot, slick tongue worked against the shaft as he took Alex's full length into his tight throat. When he pulled back it was deliciously slow. He licked and lapped at the head, his tongue flicking out to clean the beading fluid, then devoured it again, until Alex decided keeping his mouth shut against the whole experience was pointless. It'd be rude to make Milos think Alex wasn't enjoying it.

Apparently his moans were enough to spur Milos on. The elf's next deep swallow had the tip of his nose pressed to the sweat-damp skin above Alex's cock. Fuck, how the hell did he manage that?

When Milos raised his head again, wiping away a trail of saliva from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, Alex let out a whimper of frustration. He couldn't just leave it there, not now—

The frigid air of Milos's apartment blasted along his legs as Milos pushed the quilt down to the bottom of the bed. Alex opened his mouth to object, only to clap it shut again as Milos straddled him, moving forward on his knees until he was just above Alex's belly and the heat from the insides of his thighs sent pleasant shivers racing over Alex's skin. They've never done this before — Alex couldn't blame him, not with Milos's past — and hell, Alex thought they never would. Now that it was happening, now Milos was instigating it with a smile, without alcohol being a factor, sent a fresh wave of goosebumps over his skin.

The shock distracted him from exactly why Milos had expended so much effort on his early-morning sucking in the first place. Only the sudden pressure against the head of his cock, tight then suddenly giving, startled reality back again. The lube was still in the drawer. There was no sign of the bottle on the bed, no tell-tale thump-rattle as it rolled onto the floor and away. They hadn't fucked without it in about a year, not since Milos had painstakingly pointed out why he preferred it and Alex relented because he'd had to concede it did make things easier, albeit a little less fun.

The only downside Alex could find was that he hadn't gotten the pleasure of stretching Milos first, to watch him whimper and squirm against the bed. And even that felt less like missing out as Milos pressed on, biting his lip not in pain but concentration as he lowered himself onto Alex's prick, bit by bit until he'd taken it all.

Alex felt little flickers of tension through Milos's muscles; Milos leant back, steadying himself with his hands pressed to Alex's thighs, and began to rise and holy fuck.

He'd wanted this, in abstract terms, and had quickly accepted he'd never get it. The reality of it, the sight of Milos's dark, slender body rising majestic above him, his cock starting to thicken from the sensations Alex's caused, was almost too difficult to grasp. The heat of Milos's thighs when Alex rested his hands on them, the shifting of the muscles beneath his touch as Milos reached his peak and began lowering himself again with a slowness that fogged Alex's mind with static; it was all too incredible. He'd idly wondered, once or twice, what it'd be like. He'd never expected it'd feel so fucking amazing.

If he didn't distract himself it'd be over too soon but mental arithmetic, aside from being far too easy, seemed a waste when he could be enjoying himself instead: he wrapped his right hand around Milos's prick, revelling in its warmth and the way it leapt against his touch, and began to stroke. Of course, the strangled moan from Milos's throat almost did for him there and then — Alex clamped down on his thoughts the same moment Milos's body did Alex's cock and that nearly ruined him too. Only a few strokes, Christ.

His desperate avoidance of embarrassment usually worked wonders. It did here too. Milos was doing something Alex had never expected, there was no way he was going to end it prematurely. And focusing on Milos's cock, the way it finished standing to attention under his touch, all heat and steel, gave him the perfect distraction to the heat filling his balls. He rubbed his thumb over the head, smearing the elf's precome over the flushed reddish flesh, then trailed it down the shaft; his other moved to cup Milos's perfect testicles and Milos let out another breathy moan.

Alex only stroked them for a moment, feeling their weight in his palm, then turned both hands to the elf's dick instead. In response Milos picked up his pace, as much bucking up against Alex's touch as riding Alex's dick, his cock bobbing and fresh fluid glossing the head.

The stifling apartment filled with the slick sounds of sex and both men's ragged breathing. God, this was everything Alex had never known he'd wanted so badly. Well, almost everything — he ignored Milos's keening as he lifted one hand from his cock again, and barely stopped himself coming again when he pinched Milos's nipple and received a helplessly loud moan as a reward. He couldn't keep holding off, it was too good; Milos was on the edge too. It wouldn't take much to push him over it.

Alex seized Milos round the back of the neck, fingers tangling in his rat-tailed hair, to drag the elf down and himself up to kiss him like his life depended on it. Milos's mouth tasted of lust, his tongue of pleasure. Even his whimpers had their own sweetly surrendering flavour, and it was enough to make Alex surrender too: he arched, slamming up into Milos and moaning into his lover's mouth.

Milos wrapped his sweat-clammy arms around Alex's damp neck, pinning him in place. Alex felt hot fluid spurt over the side of his hand and spatter over his belly as Milos panted and shuddered beneath his touch. He remained poised above Alex, for one brief, wonderful moment, then flopped down to nuzzle against Alex's chest.

Alex yawned, stretched up and out. They'd both ache later, but it'd be worth it. He let his arms fall back to the bed outstretched—

A sleepy elbow caught him in the stomach, with no real force behind it. "Ow." Milos's voice was thick, muffled with sleep and the pillow. "Stop flailing. Go back to sleep."

Alex blinked. The view above him contained the ceiling, its weird Artex patterns as indecipherable as ever; it didn't contain a sex-contented dark elf. The apartment air was as cold as ever, though his chest was as hot as it would've been if they'd done even half of Alex's fervid imagination. The alarm clock on Milos's bedside table insisted it was five in the morning, though the street outside was already light with summer sunrise, and just below that, the elf himself was laying with his back to Alex.

A dream. The whole thing had been a fucking dream.

Alex groaned deeply, prompting another weak elbow, then rolled onto his side. Milos's back was as pleasantly warm as ever and fit perfectly against his chest, even if all that unchecked hair was prone to trying to make incursions up Alex's nose. His waist dipped at just the perfect place to rest Alex's arm.

Too good to be true. Of course it had been, there hadn't been enough — any — complaining from his dream-lover, unlikely Milos-initiated sex aside. But, as Milos melted sleepily against him, reality could be pretty damn good too.

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