The Law of Polarity

19. Nightime Trespassing

Content Warning:
Explicit sexual themes intended
for those 18+

Feel free to skip this chapter,
otherwise, enjoy ;)

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There are moments sometimes, when you're caught halfway between sleeping dreams and wakeful awareness, when it's hard to know which is which. When they blend seamlessly. When it seems your dreams are coming to fruition.

In those moments, when you first wake, everything feels almost unreal. It's when you feel or hear things but don't quite comprehend their reality.

So when I feel warm and fuzzy inside, when I feel hyper-sensitive all over my skin, I take in a deep breath and revel in it. I let the rush of seductive sensations wash over me—a carnal rush I haven't felt in a long while.

At least when it's not self-induced. And these are decidedly not, considering how still I am. Even the idea of movement remains irrelevant and foreign.

There is subtle movement around me though, so I focus on that lifeline, on the motions giving me these sweet sensations.

There it is again, on my hip. A grinding pressure, sending flutters through my stomach and chest.

And there. Sliding right over my groin. That's where the warmth and pressure is.

My senses start to take hold. This is too real to be a dream. I can actually feel this, it's not just in my head.

My toes flex and I feel my sheet. My fingers flex and I feel... soft material radiating with a refreshing chill.

Kal.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I've made the connection. My subconscious already knew he was here. Even though, in my dream, there wasn't a face attached to whoever was making those movements against me, I think I already just knew.

The fingers of my other hand find his silky hair to bury themselves into, while I simultaneously grip the cool fabric across his hip.

I need to grip onto something because damn, these feelings are hitting me even harder as I wake.

My hold triggers another round of motion from him, and now semi-conscious, I finally realize what's happening:

He's grinding into me.

His hips rotate against me, his solid length pressing into my upper thigh. His leg is strewn across me in a way that every thrust from his hips sends his knee sliding across my own hardening mass.

Fuck, it's heavenly.

My room is dead silent besides his uneven breaths brushing across my collarbone, and judging by the occasional random twitch, I guarantee he's still asleep.

He's sleep-humping me.

Is it weird that I'm kind of into it?

I wonder if he's just having a random wet dream, or if, like myself, his subconscious knows it's me? Which I realize is less likely, but hey, one can hope.

Maybe it could be due to the familiar scent? I've begun to recognize his minty-vanilla aroma nearly as well as I know my own. Or the feel of him? His contrasting temperature is unique to just him, so it doesn't leave much to question.