Heat

Author's Notes: Just excising more demons from my hindbrain. Mostly masterbation and fantasizing in this chapter, along with some angst, so if that's not your cup of tea, you've been warned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That should have been it. Will had done Warren a favor, nothing more. It should have been like rescuing each other during a battle, something you thanked each other for, but didn’t let obsess you. They helped each other all the time; each had saved the other’s life countless times. Just because Will had to have sex with Warren to help him this time didn’t mean it was any different, right?

Right…

Will was still pretty tired when he finally flew home, and ended up collapsing into bed for a nap. His alarm startled him a few hours later, and he had to refrain from smashing the clock, and the nightstand, into paste. Groggily he snapped it off, and realized he was feeling a little uncomfortable. He was aroused, a full morning glory, despite the fact that it was almost noon. Will considered himself lucky that Layla was a very willing partner, at least as randy as him when it came to bedsport, but Layla was unfortunately out of reach to take care of him right now.

Will sighed a bit and wrapped his hand around his cock, closing his eyes and bringing one of his favorite fantasies to mind. The one with Layla and him making love amongst the clouds was usually a surefire remedy for getting him off; soaring high above the city, cool air and cloud vapor teasing their skin, feeling weightless despite their connection… With a groan he felt himself growing closer and closer, just a few more strokes should do it… Somehow the thought of Warren flickered into his mind just as he was about to cum; Warren’s warm hands and amazing kisses, and Will’s concentration was broken.

Cursing, he mentally shoved Warren aside and got up. Getting his pants on was a trial, but he wasn’t going to try that again until he was sure he wasn’t going to be distracted. I’m just thinking too hard about last night, that’s all, he told himself. He told himself fiercely that he hadn’t felt anything sexual for Warren this morning, and there was no damn reason for him to start now.

Ignoring the ache in his groin, he made himself lunch, watched a little TV, and did the dishes. Nothing seemed to distract him, and his cock was starting to get painfully hard. Furious with himself, Will started a cold shower, gasping a bit when he stepped into it. It didn’t help at all; his cock stayed hard in spite of the icy water, and Will broke down enough to try to ease his own frustration again. This time he imagined Layla in the garden gazebo out back, her hair loose and wet from a summer rainstorm, laughing with him and slowly slipping out of her soaking clothes. Her pale skin was glowing pink, her breasts tipped with rose-colored nipples, her eyes bright with desire and love…

The icy water continued to pound on his head as he fisted himself, shivering but still aroused. Layla was laying down on one of the padded benches, the roses growing in from all sides, their soft petals making a curtain of scent and color. She opened herself to him, showing him her own petals… Will could see himself climbing on top of her, leaning into to steal a soft kiss, getting ready to enter her… The cold shower was a little distracting, and suddenly he was imagining warm arms encircling him, warm muscular arms with flame-tattooed wrists…

“Fuck!” Will snarled, slamming one fist into the shower wall, pulverizing several tiles into dust. Angrily, Will snapped off the shower and stalked into the bedroom, chilled, frustrated, achingly erect and desperately needing to cum.

He threw himself on the bed, furiously fisting himself, trying not to think of anything but his own hand on his cock. Fantasizing obviously wasn’t going to work today. He tugged and stroked, trying everything he could, bringing as much of his strength into play as he dared, but nothing was working. Nearly sobbing with frustration, he finally let the fantasy that had been trying to intrude all day into his mind. Warren’s dark eyes, smoldering and sexy, his hot hands stroking and caressing him in ways he had never felt before, his long, hot hardness deep in Will’s ass…

Will found himself on all fours on the bed, his wrist flying, his face buried in the pillow as he imagined it was Warren’s hand on his aching cock…

“Warren!” he screamed as he suddenly came hard, cum spraying everywhere. Will gasped and collapsed on the bed, getting himself all sticky. It took him a second to realize he had just cum by fantasizing about his best friend… and had enjoyed it. Will thought he was going to be sick.

He grabbed his phone and before he even realized what he was doing, had hit Warren’s speed-dial number. He answered on the fifth ring.

“What did you do to me?” Will demanded before Warren could even say hello. Silence reigned on the other end of the phone, and Will cursed his own clumsiness. Warren must be so screwed up about having to ask his best friend if he could fuck him that this call must have devastated him. But Will couldn’t stop himself.

“I thought it was going to be ok, I really did, but after I came home… I kept trying to think of Layla, but every time I would try to cum I kept thinking of you! What’s wrong with me? What did you do to me?” he demanded.

“I tried… I tried to make it good Will. I thought you were enjoying yourself a little, at least. I… maybe when I tried… to explain things to you,” Warren said slowly. Will realized that the odd empathic connection Warren had made with him last night might have had a deeper effect than either of them had realized. But then he almost immediately dismissed it. Warren had healed him before, and there had been no residual effect on him those other times.

“No I think it… maybe it’s me,” Will said after a second, his brain finally kicking into gear.

“Do you… want to come over and talk about it?” Warren asked softly. Will could feel himself start to get aroused again, and knew that going over to Warren’s place would be a very, very bad idea right now. Because the state he was in, he’d just grab Warren and fuck him senseless, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. It frightened him, because he knew, with his super strength, that Warren wouldn’t be able to stop him from taking what he wanted. And Will suddenly wanted it very badly, and he knew it was wrong to be feeling this way.

“I can’t. I’d do something I’d regret,” he replied. Now he knew how Warren had felt last night, and he just wanted to cry. He was frustrated and needing release, but didn’t dare reach out for it. Why was he feeling this way? He wasn’t into guys, he wasn’t! Why was Warren so much on his mind?

“Would you really?” Warren asked in the same soft tone, and Will felt his mouth go dry. He wants it too. Oh god, he needs to…

“Yes, I would,” Will said firmly, before his hormones could make up his mind for him. “I have to talk to Layla. I just can’t-.”

“I understand. Don’t worry about it Will, it’s ok,” Warren said simply, and Will choked back a sob. How’s he being so reasonable about this? I feel like I’m the one going insane now! “I’ll be waiting when you’re ready to talk about it.”

“Ok… ok,” Will finally managed, and closed his phone.

“Will… what’s going on?” Will whipped around to stare at Layla, who was standing in the doorway, a shocked expression on her face. Will abruptly realized he was soaking wet with water and cum, sprawled on his mattress, his hand far too south of his navel, and probably looking like he had just been dragged through hell face-down. How was he going to explain this to her?