dream3

Touching a Dream

Harry woke with a mighty yawn and a languorous stretch. The remnants of a dream chased at the fringes of his consciousness. He felt good; happy, content, and more than a little horny. The view when his eyes finally opened brought a smile to his lips. Bob sat there, beside him, just as he'd promised the night before. But he looked a bit preoccupied, as if he wasn't sure what to expect now that Harry was awake.

"Good morning, Harry," the ghost's rich voice intoned. "Sleep well?"

Harry reached out and let his fingers brush over the nearest ghostly hand. "Wonderful. I think I was dreaming ..."

Bob seemed to relax at Harry's 'touch.' This was going much better than yesterday morning. His eyes settled on the noticeable tenting of the sheet over Harry's midsection. "Dreaming about the lovely Lt. Murphy, perhaps?" he teased.

The deep blush that covered Harry's face had him thinking he had it right, until Harry answered, "I'm not really sure who it was ..."

That was intriguing ... "Oh?" came the reply, complete with arched eyebrow.

Harry realized he'd better change the subject, and fast. "Aren't you a bit overdressed, Bob?"

The sudden change of subject caught Bob by surprise. "Excuse me?"

Bob was sitting with his legs drawn up, arms wrapped around them, apparently fully dressed down to the shoes. Harry chuckled at his confusion and pointed.

"Most people don't wear shoes to bed, Bob. Don't you ever relax?"

Bob suddenly took in the big picture of what they must look like. Harry, naked under a sheet, hair disheveled from sleep, a cocky grin on his face. A sight which Bob had to agree was rather charming. Sharing a bed with a fully dressed gentleman. He had to admit he liked the 'sharing a bed' part, but there did seem to be something wrong with the 'fully dressed' part. But he wasn't going to let Harry know that, at least not just yet.

He composed his face into an expression of haughty disdain. "Just because you don't care about your appearance, Harry, doesn't mean I have to 'slum it.'" He gave a long-suffering sigh. "But, if it will make you happy ..." He concentrated a minute, and the shoes vanished. He wiggled his now naked toes just to taunt Harry.

Harry laughed. "OK, it's an improvement!" He cocked his head to the side and looked at Bob, his expression almost serious. "Bob? Why do you look like that? I mean, those clothes aren't from the time you lived ...?"

Bob frowned. He hadn't thought about his apparent wardrobe for decades. "Ah, yes, I remember now. Actually, this was Justin's idea ... one of the few traits we shared was a penchant for dressing sharply. Prior to that I usually just displayed my ceremonial robes. Justin felt this gave the same kind of authority but a more modern feel."

Harry practically scowled. "Oh." The look in his eyes said it all � if it came from Justin Morningway, he wanted nothing to do with it. Even if privately, he'd always felt that Bob did look disgustingly good for a ghost.

Bob's face fell at the iciness of Harry's response. But he realized Harry had a point. Now that he thought about it, he really didn't want to be surrounded by trappings that reminded him of Justin either. He considered for a moment, then realized that he had very little idea of what fashion today looked like. He certainly wasn't going to go by Harry's wardrobe. But for the moment, perhaps he could come up with something more suitable ...

"Is that better, Harry?" Bob asked smugly as he rematerialized, clad as Harry was, wearing only a smile, his legs now stretched out before him.

Caught completely off guard, Harry found himself gaping like a fish out of water. "Uh, ... ok ...?" He couldn't help staring, and the morning wood which had begun to subside came back with a vengeance. Bob's body was beautiful. Slender, compact, and very decidedly male. Harry wasn't used to responding to that particular combination.

Bob was paying more attention to the expression on Harry's face than to his body's reaction beneath the covers, and he instantly regretted his teasing. He was about to apologize when suddenly Harry burst out laughing.

"Oh, Bob! Oh, that's priceless! You don't do things by halves, do you?"

This was NOT the sort of response Bob had anticipated. "Harry? You find me ... amusing?" His expression was positively frigid.

Now it was Harry's turn to apologize. He smothered his laughter and tried to compose himself.   "Whoa, easy there! Not you, Bob ... just ... the situation! You ... you're gorgeous ..."

The words came out before Harry could stop them. Bob's icy expression melted, and their eyes locked. It suddenly occurred to Harry that his change of subject hadn't changed the subject at all, probably because he hadn't really wanted to change it in the first place. Bob's body was beautiful, and enticing, and his morning erection wanted to be placated and the hell with it, he wanted it too. His hand reached out, as if to touch Bob's face. He didn't have to say a word, just nodded slightly, and Bob leaned forward as if to kiss him, disappearing instead to reform within Harry's body.

Harry's hand came back to touch his own face, Bob's face.   Now it was Bob's turn to place a gentle kiss against Harry's palm. // Oh, Harry ... // Even as a thought, it came out as a sigh.

// I know ... // Harry answered silently. // I feel it too ... // Joined like this, their body's reactions amplified through both their consciousnesses, even their emotions seemed to be amplified. Harry ran his hand down over Bob's chest, picturing in his mind's eye the beautiful body he'd seen moments ago, pale skin with a smattering of pure white curls. // Want to touch you ... //

// God, yes! // Bob answered as Harry's hand moved lower, coming closer to his erect cock.

// Ohhhhh! // they sighed in unison at that first touch.

Harry knew how to pleasure his own body. But jerking off had never felt like this before! No matter what the fantasy, it was at the core a lonely activity. But not now. He could feel Bob's delight at being touched, his joy at knowing it was Harry touching him. A joy that Harry was a bit surprised to find himself echoing. But he did, he wanted this in a way he'd never wanted anything before. He suddenly realized that he'd found the intimacy he'd always wanted, but had been afraid of.

He didn't have long to think about that � or anything. Somehow, his left hand had found its way up to Bob's face where it was being kissed quite thoroughly. And then Bob took his index finger into his mouth, sucking gently. It was impossible not to imagine him sucking on another, more sensitive area of Harry's anatomy. Just visualizing that nearly brought Harry to the edge.
Bob couldn't believe this was really happening. The physical sensations alone were overwhelming, but knowing that Harry was willingly, nay, eagerly participating was almost more than he could handle. His love for Harry grew so great that he didn't think he could possibly contain it. And then it exploded, they exploded together, a guttural cry ripped from Harry's throat as pleasure consumed them.

They lay there on Harry's bed, gasping, limp, spent.

"Wow!" Harry finally broke the silence.

// Indeed! // Bob answered silently but heartily.

Harry chuckled. "Wish I could see your face right about now."

Bob obliged, appearing next to Harry, lying beside him with a satisfied smile on his lips. Harry smiled back at him. They lay there, grinning like idiots, almost afraid to break the spell. Harry found himself getting lost in eyes so icy blue they had to be what glaciers were made of. And yet they were so warm and welcoming, not cold at all. At least not now. Oh, he'd been on the receiving end of icy glares more times than he could count. But that didn't matter now. Bob was here beside him, letting him get lost in those beautiful blue orbs. Without thinking, he reached out to touch his lover's face. Of course, his fingers passed right through instead of touching warm flesh.

Harry sighed. "I wish I could see you and touch you at the same time."

Bob's expression turned wistful. "So do I, Harry. But it isn't to be ..."

Harry frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know. Magic can do a lot ..."

Bob shook his head. "No, Harry. I went down that path once, that's what got me here. I won't let you make the same mistake I did."

Harry wasn't one to give up so easily. One of these days, he'd find a way, one that wouldn't bring the Council down on their backs. But he decided that for the moment, he'd keep his thoughts on the subject to himself.

"Ok, Bob, I get the message."

Bob wasn't at all sure he believed Harry, but this moment was too precious to let it disturb him. He nodded acceptance, and smiled. "It's enough to see you like this, Harry. And to share what we just shared ..."

Harry couldn't help smiling back at him again. "Yeah ... that was pretty spectacular."

Bob cocked his head. "Harry, you're blushing. Does this ... embarrass you?"

That just got a shrug. "I guess I�m still getting used to it, Bob. I've never been attracted to another man before � let alone one who was a non-corporeal ghost." Harry suddenly put it together. "But you have ...?" His raised eyebrow made it a question.

// How much to tell him? // Bob wondered. "Let us just say that in my youth, I never turned down a good carnal pleasure, no matter what the source. Women were supposed to be such sexless creatures back then. A boy needed SOME outlet!"

"Oh!" Harry wasn't sure he really wanted any further detail. "I guess I just assumed ... Winnifred ... you know ..."

Bob sighed softly at the memory. "She was my one true love, Harry, but not the only partner I ever had." He paused thoughtfully. "You know, I always thought that even had I lived, I would have never been able to love again after her. I suppose I was wrong ... although it took almost 500 years ..." His eyes met Harry's. "500 lonely years ... most of it spent as a virtual slave to the Morningway sorcerers. Until one lost and lonely boy came along and stole my heart."

The love that shone in Bob's eyes was almost tangible; so intense that Harry almost felt the need to look away. He took a ragged breath.

"When my dad died, I lost everything. I hurt so damned bad that I swore I'd never let myself be that vulnerable again. That I'd never depend on any one person that much. It was easy to keep Uncle Justin at a distance � I don't think he ever wanted anything else."

Bob shook his head sadly. "No, I don't think he did, Harry. All he wanted was the powerful sorcerer you would someday become."

Harry nodded. "I think I always knew that. But you ... you were a different matter entirely."

Bob smiled. "There was a time when I was sure you hated me."

Harry grinned ruefully. "Oh, you're right about that. You were a stern taskmaster. And yet ... even then, I think I knew you cared. Although I could never figure out why ...?"

"Perhaps because I recognized your pain, Harry. I knew what it was to lose the one person who meant everything. To feel so entirely alone in the world. And perhaps it was because you could feel such pain. Too many of your maternal ancestors were such right bastards that it would never occur to them to mourn the loss of a loved one. Your heart, I think, you got from your father. I wish I had known him."

Harry sighed. "Me too. I often wonder what he would think of my life ..."

"He would be proud of you, Harry. Don't doubt that."

"I hope so." Harry's voice was barely a whisper. Once again it was time to change the subject. "I wonder what he'd make of this ... of us ...?"

Bob chuckled softly. "I'm not sure WE know what to make of this yet, Harry ..."

Harry smiled, reaching for Bob's hand. "We'll figure it out." His fingers slipped through Bob's insubstantial ones, making him sigh in exasperation. "Somehow ..."

"Harry ..." Bob's voice came very softly. "I don't want to presume ... but I think I would like to hold you right now. May I come in?"

"Yes."

That simple syllable wasn't even completely finished before Bob melted into him, and once again they were together. But like last night, this time it wasn't sexual, just affectionate. Words ceased to be important, forgotten in the rapture of touch. Hands roamed, gentle kisses were placed, until finally the need was slaked.

//Thanks, Bob ... // Harry's mental voice sighed at last.

// Thank YOU, Harry, // came the reply. // I suppose I should leave now ...// Even the mental voice sounded reluctant.

// You don't have to, // Harry answered. An idea struck him. Shifting to his 'real' voice, he asked "There was no such thing as a hot shower in your time, was there?"

Bob had followed him into the bathroom once or twice over the years when he wasn't yet ready to let Harry end a conversation, so he knew what a shower was. But it had never occurred to him that the water was hot. He'd never really thought about it one way or another. // No ... // came the hesitant answer.

Harry grinned. "Come on, then. You'll love this."

Not waiting for Bob's acquiescence, Harry sat up and headed to the bathroom. He felt a little funny taking a leak with Bob riding on board, but figured // what the hell, it's nothing new ... //

// Hardly ... // came the unexpected reply. He could practically hear the laughter in Bob's thought.

Harry reached in and turned the shower on, giving the water a moment to heat up before stepping in and letting the warmth slide over his body. He stretched, letting the heat seep into to stiff muscles, before finally shifting so that the water fell directly on his head, soaking his hair.

// My word, Harry! You do this every day? // Bob asked incredulously.

Harry chuckled. "Yup. Was your time one of those when bathing was out of fashion?"

That got a mental snort. // Hardly. But it was never such a pleasurable experience back then! Rather unpleasant, as a matter of fact, as most of the time the water was ice cold. // Bob suppressed a mental shudder at the memory.

Reaching for the bar of soap, Harry worked up a lather in his hands and began washing. But it wasn't long before Bob hijacked his hands. // Oh, let me! // Bob simply couldn't resist having the excuse to run his hands over every part of Harry's beloved body. Harry basically just stood there, chuckling, as Bob washed him.

He stopped laughing as Bob's hands came to his most sensitive areas, caressing gently, coaxing him back to life. Of course, it didn't take much. Both of them were finding the situation incredibly erotic. The soap made everything slippery, sensual, wonderful.

"Ah, yeah ..." Harry sighed aloud as Bob stroked his now fully erect dick. He leaned back against the wall for support.

// You are so beautiful like this, Harry, // Bob's mental voice whispered. Harry wondered how Bob was seeing it, then realized he'd looked in the shaving mirror stuck to the side of the wall.

"You're crazy ..." he managed to reply, but Bob chose that moment to increase his attentions to their throbbing dick. And at the same time, his other hand had somehow reached around back and was teasing at Harry's ass. That was a new sensation for Harry, one he found surprisingly exciting. Or was it Bob who liked it? Did it matter? Hell no! Their combined pleasure was once again rushing him headlong into the abyss. As he came, the power of it knocked his knees out from under him, leaving him sliding down the back wall, sinking to the floor.

They sat there for several minutes, until the water began to run cold. "Christ, Bob! Twice in one morning?"

At the first hint of the unpleasantly cold water, Bob ghosted out of Harry's body and reformed outside the shower, back in his usual attire. "Well, it has been a rather long dry spell, Harry ..." he answered with a smirk as Harry shivered in the cold, rinsing off the last of the mess they'd made. Harry scowled at him as he shut off the now frigid water and reached for a towel � right through Bob. As their eyes met, suddenly both of them began laughing.

For a couple of minutes, they were virtually paralyzed with laughter. Finally, wiping tears from his eyes, Harry shook his head and gave Bob a mock-scowl directed at the ghost's now-despised attire. "That's not gonna work anymore. Can't you come up with something better?"

Giving himself a mental smack for not thinking, Bob disappeared and re-appeared moments later in his old robes. "Sorry about that, Harry," he quickly apologized. "Habit ..."

Harry frowned. The only way in which this was an improvement was that it had nothing to do with Justin Morningway. It hid far too much of that gorgeous body he'd just come to appreciate.

When Harry's expression didn't lighten up much, Bob reconsidered. Harry had wanted him to appear more relaxed, informal. Heavy, formal, 15th century vestments were definitely not moving in the right direction. "I wish I knew what was appropriate for today ..." Bob mused aloud.

"I guess we could go shopping ..." Harry offered a bit reluctantly. Shopping for clothes was something he'd always dreaded.

"On two conditions: One, ask Morgan where he shops. Should be a step or three above your usual wardrobe."

Harry scowled, but nodded.

"Good. Second ... promise you'll get something for yourself. If I can dress 'down' for you, surely you can dress 'up' for me once in a while?"

"You're evil, Bob, you know that?"

continue to Chapter 4

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Chapter 3