/--oh. Oh dear./

For some reason he wasn't entirely sure of, he had awakened with a raging hard-on.

Great. Just great.

Ashton swallowed uncomfortably and heaved a soft sigh. What /had/ he been dreaming about, anyway? He didn't remember, not quite, although he did feel a vague sense of frustration that he'd awakened from it. Well, now he had some idea why. He twisted a bit under the blanket, rolling halfway up on his side, and one of the dragons snorted and mumbled irritably. "Shh," Ashton told it, and it shhed. There was then another soft grumble and rustling of bedclothes, and Ashton nearly shhed at it as well before he realized it was coming from the other bed in the room.

The bed Dias was sleeping in.

Ashton swallowed dryly again and opened one eye to peer at the other bed. Dias hadn't been in the room when Ashton had gone to bed; he must have come in fairly late. He was now quite soundly asleep, sprawled on his back across the bed, his hair similarly sprawled across the pillows, and--

/--oh my God is he naked!?/

He sure appeared to be. In the dim ambient light of the room, Ashton could just make out a curve of unclothed hip disappearing under the edge of the blanket. A further glance at the pile of clothes in the chair confirmed that none of Dias's clothes were actually on Dias at the time. Ashton shut his eyes and whimpered softly. He was fairly sure that his face was about to set his pillow on fire.

No, he was not comfortable at all.

Dias mumbled something undecipherable in his sleep; the mumble was followed by another rustling-fabric noise.

Ashton opened one eye again.

Most of Dias's blanket was now on the floor. Dias himself, quite oblivious to this, slept on.

Ashton stared. Caught himself staring. Blushed violently.

/Stop it!/ He squeezed his eyes shut, hid them against his pillow, and clutched at a handful of its case. /Just stop it and go back to sleep! What if he wakes up?/

Ashton sighed miserably...and opened his eyes again despite the protests and yammerings from the voice of common sense.

Yes, indeed. Dias was naked. Naked, and beautiful. What seemed like miles of blue hair trailed down over the pillows, over his shoulder, and down his chest. His skin was pale, even more so in the faint moonlight. This, and the smooth muscles of his chest and stomach and legs gave forth the illusion that his entire body was carved out of alabaster. The only thing that dispelled the illusion was the deep scar on his stomach.

/Oh no./ Ashton tried and failed to shut his eyes again. And as he lay there trying his best to ignore the erection that would not go away, he began to remember why he'd awakened with it in the first place.

Bits of the dream he'd had floated back to him. His back (without dragons) against a muscular chest. A strong arm around his waist. Warm lips and tongue and breath against his neck. A hand, with long, slim fingers, wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily.

Ashton whimpered and tried to shut his eyes again. Before he could, he noticed the hand lying half-curled up next to Dias's cheek. A hand with long, slim fingers...

/Oh God./

Had there been a lock of long blue hair hanging over Ashton's shoulder in his dream? Had there? He wasn't sure, but even if there hadn't, Ashton was now finding it all too easy to imagine that the body pressed against his, the mouth on his neck, and the hand on his cock had belonged to Dias. Ashton whimpered and shifted uncomfortably in the bed; it seemed now that the only position he'd be remotely near comfortable in was lying on his back, and that wasn't going to happen thanks to his passengers. He looked at Dias's hand again, imagined it curled around the hard-on that made it so dfficult for him to lie comfortably in the bed, and felt a wave of heat rush through his body. /Yes,/ he thought, /that might have been Dias.../ This thought crowded the fuzzy bits of dream out of his head and replaced them with new, crystal-clear imaginings that made him blush even more violently. He imagined Dias's mouth against his, then slipping down to nip at the hollow of his throat. He imagined Dias's hands undressing him, pulling his robe open and his underwear down, caressing every inch of skin that lay beneath them. And he imagined Dias inside him, fucking him slow and deep, the head of his cock rubbing up against that spot deep within him that drove him crazy--

/I can't stand it!!/

Ashton threw the blanket back, stumbled out of bed, and picked his way into the small bathroom adjoined to the room, shutting the door behind him. As he stood in the complete darkness therein, the dragons stirred, grumbled softly, and went back to sleep.

He breathed a soft sigh of relief. The last thing he needed, considering what he was about to do, was for the dragons to make enough noise to wake Dias up.

Before the dragons had come along, things had been much easier. The last time he'd tried to defuse his arousal like this, the dragons ruined everything. They peered over his shoulder, tugged at his sleeve, pecked at his head, and conversed among themselves in their usual tongue, presumably about what in the world their host was doing. Ashton couldn't deal with it. He gave up and spent the rest of the day grumpy, frustrated, and snapping at anyone who so much as said two words in his general direction. And that time, he had not been nearly as aroused as he was now. Dragons or no, he had to /do something/ about this.

And so, when he was certain that the dragons were asleep once more, he did.

Ashton leaned back against the countertop and pushed his pajama bottoms down enough so that they would be out of the way. As he did, the fabric brushed against the head of his cock; that small bit of accidental friction alone was enough to wrench an involuntary moan from him. He froze and held his breath, terrified that the sound might have awakened the dragons or--even worse--Dias.

The dragons did not stir. And, judging from the lack of sound coming from the other side of the closed door, neither did Dias.

Still nervously listening for any noises that would indicate someone being up and about in the main room, Ashton reached down, curled his fingers around his shaft, and began to stroke it. He didn't think it would take long, and for that he was grateful. Although the bathroom was pitch dark, Ashton closed his eyes; somehow, with his eyes shut, it was easier to imagine that the hand stroking him belonged to Dias.

The images in Ashton's mind that had led him here, temporarily displaced by the grim realization that he needed to get up and do something about his arousal and by the slight paranoia that had followed him in here, began to return. His breath quickened, as did the motion of his hand. He could almost feel Dias's strong arm wrapped around his waist and Dias's chest against his back; he could almost hear Dias's voice, half whisper, half growl (/you want me to fuck you, don't you? you want me to make you come, don't you, Ashton?/) and feel Dias's breath against his ear.

Ashton's hand tightened around his cock and stroked faster; he pushed away from the counter a bit and began to thrust into his hand and imagined Dias entering him, slowly sliding into him, distracting him from the momentary discomfort with his hand around his cock and his mouth against his neck-- /oh God I can't stand it this isn't enough--/

Ashton carefully sank to his knees and brought his free hand to his lips; he took one finger into his mouth and suckled at it for a moment. Then he reached back and slowly pushed it inside himself, gradually working it in deeper, seeking that spot he'd imagined Dias's cock rubbing against. And when he found it, the resulting jolt of pleasure nearly made him cry out. He bit down hard on his lip and whimpered instead. The hand on his cock and the finger inside him moved feverishly, almost violently, and Ashton no longer cared if he woke the dragons /or/ Dias up; all he could think about now was the maddening need for release. All at once, his body tensed and shuddered; he clenched his jaw against the cry that threatened to tear itself from his throat and cupped his hand over the head of his cock. He came violently into his hand, shuddering and moaning through clenched teeth, and as he did he could almost feel Dias's arm tighten around his waist and hear a low, snarling growl against his ear.

Ashton caught his breath a few moments later, and as he heard the soft squeak of bedsprings in the main room he suddenly realized that he'd made a lot more noise that he should have. He quickly cleaned up after himself as best he could in the dark, all the while fearing that the bathroom door would open to reveal a most displeased Dias.

It never did, and Ashton warily pushed it open a crack and peered out. Dias was still asleep. He had turned over on his side at some point and was now facing away from Ashton's bed, but he was still asleep. With a soft sigh of relief, Ashton padded silently back to his bed, eased into it (without squeaking a single spring, thankfully)--this time facing the other way-- and pulled the blanket back over his shoulders. He fell asleep shortly thereafter.

A few minutes later, Dias opened his eyes just a crack, reached down for the blanket, and pulled it back over himself.

And smirked, just a little.