Neon Rush {M/M} ❀

Ch.23.1 Smell of the Ocean

Embarrassment colours Zef's cheeks. Abruptly, he becomes aware of the way Gray's ass fits against him. He's had the privilege of seeing that ass painted in denim and stark naked by moonlight. It's heart-shaped and you could bounce quarters off it and it stars in every fantasy Zef rarely lets himself indulge.

Difficult not to think about it now.

He'd told Damo he wanted bottom surgery, but that desire turns desperate when Gray arches his beautiful ass against Zef and lets out a hopelessly breathless noise of want.

Yep. That noise is going to be a problem. It is going to replay in his memory at inappropriate times, he just knows it.

Not now. Now, Zef needs to find a way to extricate himself from this without waking Gray and causing embarrassment. Not that they didn't spend last night playing tongue twisters in the literal sense, but this is different. Unconscious. Involuntary. Just a dream, and Gray doesn't need any more distress around sleep than he already has.

Zef tries to gently pull away. It wakes Gray, because of course it does. His breathy noises stop abruptly. His shoulders stiffen.

Hoping to save him from embarrassment, Zef says, "Were you having another nightmare?"

Gray looks over his shoulder, cheeks blooming with colour. "Uh, yeah."

Zef tries to go along with it, he does, but as he gives Gray's back a comforting rub, electricity still crackles between them.

An awkward silence to end all awkward silences follows.

Zef tempts fate. "You're, uh, really tense? We have time before we need to get ready. I could give you a massage?"

Gray holds his breath. By now, Zef is coming to recognize the patterns in Gray's behaviour. The hot and cold storm of his desire for closeness warring with the fear it won't last. Zef waits quietly for Gray to land on either side of that fence.

The word 'yeah,' comes out of him so light it breaks apart like dandelion seeds in the wind.

Zef untangles himself from Gray and the sheets to get the massage oil. He warms it in his hands. Gray sits on the edge of the bed since he can't lie on his stomach without suffocating in the pillows or straining his neck. Not ideal, but Zef sits behind him and smears the oil in big, soothing circles over the ram skull, snakes and peonies curling over Gray's back.

Gray relaxes a fraction. Leans into it. But the awkward silence lingers. Zef works at the knots with gentle pressure, but Gray never uncoils completely.

"You nervous about today?" Zef asks.

"No," Gray lies.

"You're really tense."

"Always tense."

"More than usual. Here, lie down."

Zef shuffles back, sitting cross-legged so Gray can lay with his head in his lap. Gray's brow knits together then unstitches as Zef slides his hands along the taut muscles in his neck. Over his shoulders and chest. A little breath of relief huffs out of him. Neck and head massages seemed to do wonders for calming him. Zef wonders when his body became a prison, and what a relief it would be for it to feel good. Like a vessel for comfort and pleasure instead of pain. And a selfish part of him is glad to be the one to nudge him towards the former.

Another part of him can't stop staring at the blissed out expression melting across Gray's features. His eyes are closed so Zef can study every detail unobserved. The slight dimples either side of his mouth. The deep ridge where his brow meets the bridge of his nose. The scarred lips he kissed last night. Thin lines of gold run from his eyebrow up his temple and into his hairline, but his face is otherwise free of gild.