Don't Tell My Brother

Chapter 16 - Murder Sex Dreams

He was back where he had been, in that crowded corridor at that party. That stupid party. He didn't recognise the song that was playing. People were all around him, a suffocating crush of bodies, and with a strange sort of desperation he elbowed and shoved his way out into the hall, desperate to escape.

He could breathe a little easier here. The hallway was oddly dark, and standing at the end he could just barely make out a silhouette, tall and broad-shouldered, at the end of the corridor. Without having to even think about it, Lucas knew it was Damien. There was nobody else around, and suddenly the party sounded very distant.

"Damien?" He called as he walked towards him.

Damien turned, and as Lucas drew closer still, he could make him out in sharp focus. Dark curls fell around his face, the dim light accentuating the harsh edges of his face: sharp jawline, cheekbones that could've been carved from stone. And his eyes. There was something about his eyes, fierce and nearly black in the low light. They were fixed on Lucas, and automatically he felt heat bloom across his cheeks, because there was something in the way Damien was looking at him, something that made him stand frozen to the spot.

"Lucas." Damien breathed, in a low, rough voice he'd never heard him use before, and then they were kissing. "Lucas." Damien said again, panting now, lips pressed to Lucas' neck, hands everywhere, under his shirt, on the small of his back, under the waistband of his boxers, "Lucas, Lucas—"

"Lucas!"

Lucas sat bolt upright, breathing as ragged as if he'd just run a marathon. Mark stood at the door, arms folded, frowning in at where Lucas sat tangled in his sheets.

"Mom sent me to get you. You're usually awake by now, dude. What've you been doing?"

"Nothing!" Lucas blurted out instantly.

His brain was too fuddled with sleep to think of any sort of explanation, and 'I was having a scarily vivid almost-sex dream about your worst enemy in the entire world' probably wouldn't have gone down too well.

Mark frowned at him, obviously confused. "Uh...right. Weirdo. Get downstairs, there's breakfast." Glancing at Lucas with an expression halfway between confusion and annoyance, Mark disappeared back downstairs.

Only once Lucas saw that head of golden hair bob out of sight did he let himself collapse back into his bed, rubbing his eyes as if he could scrub away whatever hell his imagination had conjured up. Because it was a hell, right? Lucas didn't want to kiss Damien, let alone— well, he'd woken up before that could go any further, thank god. He didn't know how he'd live with himself otherwise. He wasn't even going to think about it.

Because he didn't think about it. Not ever. Lucas rolled over, burying his face into his pillow. This was so stupid. He knew, logically, that Damien was an asshole and he hated him. That was just a fact, pure and simple. Sure, he was sort of attractive. Objectively. But Lucas liked to think he wasn't shallow enough to only care about looks. Personality was important, and Damien's personality was rude and immature and sleazy and everything Lucas hated. He got angry just thinking about the way Damien had left him last night. Not even a goodbye, all because some girl had shown up. Not that he really cared, he assured himself. It was just bad manners. Rude, as usual.

"Lucas!" He heard his mom call from the bottom of the stairs. "Are you eating or not?"

Groaning, Lucas pulled himself out of bed and fumbled around for his glasses on the nightstand. He began to dress, and as the sun rose higher into the sky he managed to calm himself down. It was fine. Just a stupid dream. It didn't mean anything. Just hormones and late nights studying and too much time with Damien, a recipe for disaster. Nothing to worry about.