Page 54 of The Best of Times
“I’ve missed this,” he said.
“Me too.”
Don’t get mushy, for fuck’s sake.
With a wicked grin, he reached across and tweaked Paul’s nipple. Instantly, Paul’s dick leapt to attention.
“I think it’s your turn now.”
“No!”
Aron woke with a start as Paul leapt out of the bed.
“Hey,” Aron said, reaching for the light. “It’s okay. Paul, you’re here with me.”
But Paul stood rooted to the spot. Aron knew his way around this though.
“Listen to me, Paul. It’s Aron. You’re in the hotel. Remember?”
Slowly realisation dawned on Paul’s face.
Good. It’s passing.
“Aron?”
“Come here.”
Paul shivered. “I’m all sweaty.”
“I don’t care. Come here.”
Paul obeyed him. He wasn’t wrong—his body was soaked.
“Shower,” Aron ordered.
“Really?”
“Yes or you’ll catch your death of cold and the Professor will not be happy if his best man is sneezing all over the place.”
Fully awake now, Aron got up and took Paul’s hand. He led him into the bathroom and turned the shower on.
“What time is it?” Paul asked.
“Coming up to four-thirty.”
Aron glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Despite monumental bags under his eyes, he didn’t look too bad after barely an hour’s sleep.
“I’m sorry,” Paul said. He nuzzled Aron’s shoulder.
“I can’t believe you’re still having those dreams,” Aron replied. He kissed the top of Paul’s head.
These episodes had been a regular feature of their time together. Standing in that bathroom was like the last two years had never happened.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Paul stood back. “Not really. Fancy scrubbing my back?”
“Sure,” he replied. “Go and get soapy, handsome.”
