Through the Shadow of the Evening Sun
folder
1 through F › Covenant, The
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
3,541
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Covenant, The
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
3,541
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I own nothing from The Covenant
Blankets
Everything was different under blankets. The lights were dimmed and they shimmered with ghostly colors that slid along sheets, skin, the sounds outside them were quieted, sounds within them echoed softly, the air was warmer, closer.
He’d spent a great deal of his childhood playing underneath them, forts of them, as he and the others crawled along on their bellies with their soldiers, creating battles, worlds, and it had all felt so real, so tangible, there. Under the blankets.
As if it created this soft, dark, magical place where wishes came true.
They’d also blocked out everything bad, hid him from the world, anything that he didn’t want to find him. Protected him from monsters, things that went bump in the night, from the dark itself. From the devils in his own mind.
He remembers quite a few times that he’d pulled them over his head at night when he was scared and pretended one of the other three boys were there in the bed too, to help him sleep.
He isn’t sure which he’s using them for right now, fantasy or nightmare. Granting wishes or blocking out reality.
He’s definitely using them to muffle sound, though.
First just the hushed sound of skin on skin as he slipped his hand down his boxers, wrapping it around his half-hard cock and tugging slowly, then the rough, telling hitches of his breath as he shifted his face down against his shoulder, smothering the sounds into the thick blankets, his hand moving faster, a little firmer.
Gasping and shuddering, teeth biting deep into his lip to bite back the whimpered moan as he comes silently in his fist, a hot sheen of sweat on his skin, slender body trembling all over. His muscles aching from trying to hold everything in.
It’s not like he thinks Reid will mind, hell, they’re two seventeen year old boys sharing a bedroom, it’s not like it hasn’t happened before. A lot. But before..
Before, it wasn’t Caleb’s husky voice in his head, wasn’t Caleb’s strong, rough hands he was imagining with every touch, stroke.
It just feels wrong, somehow, to be thinking of him that way, but he can’t stop it. He can’t get their kisses out of his mind, the way he tastes out of his mouth, the soft, can’t forget the warm feel of his lips on his own. He can’t stop thinking of the desperation, the dominating way Caleb had pinned him to the bed that first night, shudders running hot down his spine at the memory of the bruises he’d left.
He doesn’t want to think about that, remember that night, because it hadn’t been him that Caleb needed so badly. He doesn’t know who or what the older boy had needed with such desperation but he remembered the shock in his eyes when he’d realized what they were doing.
It wasn’t him.
But fuck, more and more every day Tyler wants it to be.
He’d spent a great deal of his childhood playing underneath them, forts of them, as he and the others crawled along on their bellies with their soldiers, creating battles, worlds, and it had all felt so real, so tangible, there. Under the blankets.
As if it created this soft, dark, magical place where wishes came true.
They’d also blocked out everything bad, hid him from the world, anything that he didn’t want to find him. Protected him from monsters, things that went bump in the night, from the dark itself. From the devils in his own mind.
He remembers quite a few times that he’d pulled them over his head at night when he was scared and pretended one of the other three boys were there in the bed too, to help him sleep.
He isn’t sure which he’s using them for right now, fantasy or nightmare. Granting wishes or blocking out reality.
He’s definitely using them to muffle sound, though.
First just the hushed sound of skin on skin as he slipped his hand down his boxers, wrapping it around his half-hard cock and tugging slowly, then the rough, telling hitches of his breath as he shifted his face down against his shoulder, smothering the sounds into the thick blankets, his hand moving faster, a little firmer.
Gasping and shuddering, teeth biting deep into his lip to bite back the whimpered moan as he comes silently in his fist, a hot sheen of sweat on his skin, slender body trembling all over. His muscles aching from trying to hold everything in.
It’s not like he thinks Reid will mind, hell, they’re two seventeen year old boys sharing a bedroom, it’s not like it hasn’t happened before. A lot. But before..
Before, it wasn’t Caleb’s husky voice in his head, wasn’t Caleb’s strong, rough hands he was imagining with every touch, stroke.
It just feels wrong, somehow, to be thinking of him that way, but he can’t stop it. He can’t get their kisses out of his mind, the way he tastes out of his mouth, the soft, can’t forget the warm feel of his lips on his own. He can’t stop thinking of the desperation, the dominating way Caleb had pinned him to the bed that first night, shudders running hot down his spine at the memory of the bruises he’d left.
He doesn’t want to think about that, remember that night, because it hadn’t been him that Caleb needed so badly. He doesn’t know who or what the older boy had needed with such desperation but he remembered the shock in his eyes when he’d realized what they were doing.
It wasn’t him.
But fuck, more and more every day Tyler wants it to be.