Lennon Marx (movedthrough) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2016-06-10 10:59:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | #day 037, lennon |
Who: Lennon [narrative]
Where: the lounge
When: around 10 a.m.
Warnings: dream dude sex?
It was the best night Lennon had had since he'd awakened at Zenith. There was absolutely no doubt about that. He hadn't imagined that anything like this could happen-- and in all honestly, normally he preferred to have one person getting and being given all his attention-- but who would be able to say no to this? It was mildly confusing because he'd been sure that Jack was straight, but you know, what the hell? The porn with several dudes all doing things to one another had sometimes seemed comical to him, but this didn't feel comical at all. He was kissing Tobias and then Chase, and Jack was right behind him with those magic abs pressed to his back.
They were in the billiards room of the house in Zenith, and somehow he wasn't worried about them being caught. They had everything they needed there to do everything they wanted... and wow, okay, it had been a while since he'd had penetrative sex but it felt as awesome as he remembered. It was all so vivid and real; he could even smell liquor from the bar that someone had spilled at some point in time. Everyone was racing toward the finish and then, then.... Then he woke up, heart pounding, hips pushing back into the couch in the lounge at the villa. His head killed, and evidently he'd taken off the shirt, hood and arrows from his costume during the night because he was dressed in pants, socks and one shoe. Where the other one had gone, he did not know.
"Shit," he breathed, slowly and painfully sitting up and bending double to bury his face in his knees. Had he ever in his life had a dream that real? Jim would say he needed Jesus, undoubtedly. Lennon focused on breathing and trying to ignore the fact that he was hard enough to pound nails. He'd definitely had too much alcohol the night before; had that caused the dream? Finally he kicked off his remaining one shoe and headed for the nearest public bathroom, where he relieved himself and washed his face and hands. The water hurt. Everything hurt, and he hated his life right then. Already vowing to have some private time later in the day, he shuffled off to the kitchen, hoping he'd feel better and less hungover if he ate something.