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Stretch Out and Wait

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"What's the matter? What happened?"

--

The kiss had lasted seconds, Kieren leaving as quickly as he appeared. Simon didn't feel the kiss, of course, but the pressure of it was real enough. He could have only compared it to a trip to the dentist's. The deadened jaw, numbed face, and the confusing push and pull of a tooth extraction. Not painful or unpleasant, but very present. As he turned the latch key, he realized he was consciously replaying the kiss in his mind. And with that, Simon felt something else waking up in the far corners of his brain. Can't be, he thought, Can't be, can't be. But, all he could focus on was the sight of Kieren; one lens missing, and a stripe of gray against the cover-up mousse. He wanted to see more of Kier. So much more.

"Alright, Simon?"

Amy called through her bedroom wall, startling Simon out of his daze.

"Fine. G'night, Amy," he answered, shuffling to his room.

Locking the door as quietly as he could, Simon peeled off his clothes and stretched out on the mattress. The drugs had killed Simon's libido years before they killed him, so sex was never very high on his list of priorities. He could now detect a hint of something primal; if not in his body, then most certainly in his mind. Kicking the duvet to the floor, he stared down at his naked frame.

"Alive or dead, you're still fucking useless," he whispered to his cock. He thought again about Kieren's one exposed eye, and how beautiful it looked to him. Simon knew it was too soon to say anything of the sort to Kieren. He knew Kieren wouldn't believe him if Simon told him how stunning his eyes were, and how seeing a sliver of Kieren's true pallor made him feel eighteen all over again. Jamie Dillon, new lad, seeing him shirtless for the first time. Could've watched him for hours running up and down that pitch.

He stroked his flaccid, bluish dick. Old habits. He watched as he went through the motions, feeling the long-ago dysphoria creeping in. Simon remembered the massive work he'd had to undergo upon joining the U.L.A. The months of learning new ways of accepting, and finally, embracing his reborn body. For the first time in a very long time, Simon wished to be anything other than this. Growing frustrated, he reached for the portable compact disc player Amy had lent him. "For your moody tunes, daaaaaahling," she had purred before handing over the faded pink player and headphones. Simon hit the shuffle button, and settled back down.

Two icy-cold hands conducting the way,
It's the Eskimo blood in my veins,
Amid concrete and clay,
And general decay,
Nature must still find a way

Silently chuckling at the anvil-laden lyrics, he decided to forget his body once more, and fell back into the comfort of his own mind. He replayed the moment he saw Kieren outside the door, that wild look in his eyes. Simon slowly went over every second of the kiss, the brand new and yet completely familiar pressure of their mouths against each other. Dentist's office. Push and pull. The exhilarating weight of Jamie Dillon's body against his as they leaned against the shed, fumbling with zippers and buttons. Kieren's weight against him as they kissed. Jamie's blond curls, dripping wet from the rain. Kieren's hair catching the breeze as they spoke in the graveyard. Jamie in the showers. Kieren and the fence posts. Jamie's cross tattoo above his navel. Resting his head against Kieren's bare wrists. Kieren pressing kisses down his own ravaged spine.

Simon could actually sense something happening as his mind paced through image after image. With every recollection weaving into his newest encounter with Kieren, his subconscious gifted him further with the memory of what flushed skin felt like. He grasped the bedclothes with both hands as his brain fired on every chemically-fueled cylinder. His visions accelerated. The sight of Kier's hand under his. Imagining Kieren without the mousse, without the lenses. Kieren's pale, nude body on top of his. Push and pull. Shift and shove. Jamie's hands spreading Simon apart. Kieren's hands spreading Simon apart. Jamie roughly, clumsily navigating his way inside. Kieren inserting his gloved, lubed fingers into Simon. The sensation of being full to bursting. Kieren's pale eyes, concentrating as he deftly pushed in and out. Though barely moving on the bed, Simon felt as if he were somewhere between floating away and careening towards the ground. "Harder," he imagined crying out to Kieren, "Harder, please, harder." Simon flashed from Jamie furiously pumping into him, to Kieren pistoning his fingers deeper into Simon's body. Jamie collapsing against him as he came. Kieren's eyes devouring the sight of Simon, naked and writhing. Without warning, his long-sleeping pelvic muscles began to contract, sending the whole of his mind into an intense sort of dry orgasm. Simon shuddered, picturing the phosphene spots in his screwed-shut eyes blooming in time with the spasms.

Taking the headphones off as he recovered, Simon then realized he was not only panting, but laughing aloud. I felt that, Christ, I did feel that, he thought as his body shuddered for a few more moments. He swept one hand against the floor to retrieve his pants, and slipped them on as the very last of the pelvic spasms dissipated. Part of him wanted to jump to the open window and yell out, "GOOOOOOOOOAL!" But, he knew that would bring Amy, and with Amy, questions.

For now, a kip would suffice. Draping the duvet over his body once more, Simon smiled before closing his eyes.