"Dream A Little Dream" first appeared in the oringinal slash ezine Forbidden Fruit in the winter 2005 issue. This is much, much darker than most of my later stories. You have been warned.

Roland screamed when he came, his cock buried to the hilt in Jon's ass.

He always screamed. It used to turn Jon on, but lately he'd grown thoroughly sick of it. He still loved Roland though, didn't want to hurt his feelings by complaining about something so inconsequential. So he rolled his eyes and bit his tongue. And of course when Roland went to work sucking him off, he forgot all about such petty annoyances. He leaned on his elbows and watched Roland's lovely mouth wrapped around his dick, cheeks hollowed and throat working. He came quickly, as always. Roland had an undeniable talent for sucking cock.

Afterward, as he drifted into sleep with Roland's tousled blond head pillowed on his chest, Jon thought he saw a shadow flit past the window. He cranked his resisting lids up and frowned at the city night outside. But the shadow - an oddly human shaped one, Jon thought - didn't appear again, and before many minutes had passed Jon was sound asleep.

*****

“C’mon, Jon, just try it once. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“No.”

“Don’t be that way, baby. Just this once, for me. Please?”

“I said no, dammit!”

“Jon, come on, quit being so fucking selfish!”

Jon sighed and rubbed both hands across his face. Roland was back at it again, trying to bully him into a threesome. It was something Roland had wanted to do for a long time, but Jon had never felt comfortable with it, and he was sick to death of arguing about it.

“Roland, why can’t you understand that I just do not feel comfortable inviting another man into bed with us? I know you want to try it, and I’d do it for you if I thought I could, but I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, sure,” Roland mumbled under his breath. “Fine, be that way. But this isn’t over.”

Jon glanced sharply at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Roland said, waving a dismissive hand. “Gotta go to work now, see you later. ‘Bye.”

He bent and kissed Jon with cool dry lips, then strode out the door and slammed it behind him.

“Love you,” Jon said to the closed door.

*****


The day passed slowly. Jon tidied up the apartment then sat down to write the article he was supposed to be working on. The words wouldn’t come. He went for a run, took a long hot bath, and sat down in front of the blank screen again. He managed a few listless paragraphs before admitting to himself that this just wasn’t going to happen today and heading for the bar around the corner.

When he wandered back home a couple of hours later, Roland was already there. And he wasn’t alone.

“Jon!” Roland exclaimed, gray eyes sparking with anger. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Uh, just to Harry’s,” Jon said, meaning the bar. “Who’s that?” He nodded toward the silent stranger sitting beside Roland on the couch.

“This is Jeremiah,” Roland said. “Jeremiah, this is Jon.”

Jeremiah rose gracefully to his feet and held out a long, elegant hand. Jon shook it automatically. He couldn’t stop staring at Jeremiah’s face, ivory pale with big dark chocolate eyes and hair the color of redwood waving down to the middle of his back.

“Lovely to meet you, Jon,” Jeremiah’s voice rubbed over Jon’s skin like a cat and he shivered.

“Nice to meet you too,” Jon managed.

“Hey,” Roland said, coming over to take Jon’s hands in his, “you remember what we were talking about this morning?”

“Of course,” Jon answered, faintly irritated. “Same old argument. What of it?”

Roland glanced over at Jeremiah and suddenly Jon understood. He yanked his hands away and backed up, shaking his head.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. I told you I don’t want to do that, Roland. No offense or anything, Jeremiah, it’s not you, I don’t want to have a threesome with anybody. And Roland knows that.”

He glared at Roland with fire in his pale blue eyes. Roland sighed and turned to Jeremiah.

“Well,” he said, “looks like it’s plan B, man.”

Jeremiah nodded and stepped forward. Jon wasn’t at all sure that he liked the predatory gleam in the other man’s eyes.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Jon demanded, backing away from Jeremiah’s graceful gliding form.

Roland moved up and pulled Jon into his arms. He smoothed the unruly golden brown curls away from Jon’s face and kissed him gently.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said.

Jon frowned, but before he could form another question Roland stepped back and Jeremiah’s fingers clamped onto Jon’s face, lifting his chin and forcing him to meet his gaze. He stared into those liquid depths and felt himself falling, tumbling helplessly into Jeremiah’s eyes. The room started whirling around him; his vision narrowed to a pinpoint and everything went black.

----------

Roland stared down at Jon’s still form curled on the sofa where Jeremiah had put him when he collapsed. He’d already begun to regret having agreed to this little tryst. Why, he thought, had he found it such an irresistible idea in the first place? He couldn’t remember anymore.

He sat down beside Jon and ran his fingers through his partner’s silky hair. He remembered vividly the first time they’d made love, the way Jon’s soft curls had tickled the insides of his thighs. They’d been so crazy for each other then, so in love. They couldn’t bear to be apart; they shared everything. Roland wasn’t sure when or how things had changed, but somewhere along the way they’d lost that closeness, leaving only sex without real intimacy. Great sex, true, but ultimately unsatisfying.

That, he thought, was why he’d agreed to do this. He desperately missed being close to Jon. He still loved him, and he wanted that effortless intimacy again. And Jeremiah had offered him a way to get it back. So he hadn’t questioned why Jeremiah had been lurking outside their building, hadn’t questioned the things he’d said he could do either. Why did I just believe him without question? Roland thought; it doesn’t make sense. And now, gazing at his lover of many years lying still and quiet beside him, he was having second thoughts.

Roland glanced up at Jeremiah. “I don’t know about this. You sure you can do it?”

Jeremiah smiled. “I’m sure. I’ve done it many times. It’s my particular gift.”

“Yeah, well,” Roland said, “you’ll have to excuse me if I’m a little skeptical. I mean, come on, it’s pretty hard to believe that anyone would be able to make people read each other’s thoughts, you know?”

“It’s nothing so simple, or so crude,” Jeremiah said. “It won’t work with just anyone, only two people who already have a connection of some sort. And you won’t be able to read each other’s thoughts, you’ll just get a strong but general sense of how the other feels. That’s all. It should be enough, though.”

Roland nodded thoughtfully.

“And why does it have to involve sex?” he asked. “You know this would’ve been a whole lot less complicated if we didn’t have to make Jon do the threesome thing.” He shook his head. “I dunno, man, I’m thinking this was a mistake. Maybe you should just go. I didn’t want him hurt.”

“He’ll be fine as soon as I bring him out of the trance,” Jeremiah said. “Sex is necessary because it lowers defenses. It makes us vulnerable, more receptive to each other, even if only on a subconscious level. And didn’t you say you’d wanted a threesome for some time?”

“Yeah,” Roland reluctantly agreed. “But Jon didn’t. He never did. We shouldn’t make him, it’s wrong.”

“I can bring you together again, the way you want to be,” Jeremiah said. “Isn’t that worth it? It’s only a small deception, after all. He’ll be under my influence the whole time, he’ll truly believe that he wants it too. He won’t be forced into anything, not really.”

“Maybe so,” Roland said softly, “but it’s still wrong. I don’t know why I couldn’t see that before. Wake him up now, then leave. We’ll find another way to save our relationship. I’m sorry to waste your time.”

“Roland, look at me.”

Roland raised his eyes hesitantly to meet Jeremiah’s. The dark gaze locked onto him like a vice.

“I swear to you,” Jeremiah said, “Jon will come to no harm. He will enjoy himself, and afterward he will come out of the trance with no ill effects. You want this, Roland, don’t deny yourself. I’ve promised you that Jon will be safe, and I always keep my promises.”

Jeremiah’s voice, so soothing and reasonable, lulled away Roland’s fears. And as he stared into Jeremiah’s dark eyes, all uncertainty vanished. He smiled.

“Let’s do it.”

*****

Roland wasn’t sure what he’d expected when Jon woke, but this wasn’t it. Jon seemed wrong somehow, not all there. Roland gazed at him with eyes full of worry.

“Hey,” he said, “you okay, baby?”

Jon smiled sweetly and pulled Roland into his arms. “I’m fine. Let’s fuck.” He ground his crotch against Roland’s thigh and Roland could feel his erection through his jeans.

“Uh, yeah,” Roland answered breathlessly. He glanced at Jeremiah over Jon’s shoulder; Jon, busy sucking at Roland’s neck, didn’t notice.

Roland crooked a finger, beckoning Jeremiah over. Jeremiah sidled up behind him, wrapping his arms around Roland’s waist so that Roland was sandwiched between the two other men.

“Is he supposed to be this way?” Roland whispered. “He doesn’t seem like himself.”

Jeremiah bent down, brushing his lips against Roland’s ear. “He’s still under my influence. I told you he would be. Otherwise he would not be so agreeable, would he?”

“No, guess not,” Roland conceded.

“Roland,” Jon moaned, “I want you so bad, baby, come on, let’s fuck, right now!” He wound a hand into Roland’s hair and kissed him hard.

“Wha’... mm... ‘bout Jer’miah?” Roland mumbled around Jon’s tongue.

Jon answered by pulling Jeremiah’s face to his and kissing him too, licking and nibbling at his lips. Roland watched, weak kneed with arousal.

“Bed,” Jon growled when he finally broke the kiss.

They stumbled to the bedroom, throwing clothes off as they went, and fell in a naked heap onto the bed. Roland felt dizzy with desire, his head spinning from the sight of Jon on all fours, begging to be fucked by both of them. He’d imagined it so many times, but never thought he’d actually experience it. He pulled Jon into his arms.

“I love you so much, Jon,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

Jon smiled and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “You’re welcome,” he said. “I love you too. Now tell your sexy friend there to bend me over and fuck me before I explode.”

Roland couldn’t help laughing. Jon grinned and shoved him down on his back, then bent and licked a long, wet line up his swollen shaft.

“Tell him,” he murmured. He opened his mouth and slid Roland’s thick length into his throat.

“Uh... oh, oh god...” Roland swallowed twice and finally managed to speak. “Jeremiah,” he gasped, “fuck him.”

Jeremiah complied without a word. He produced a small bottle of lube from somewhere, smeared a generous amount on his cock and on Jon’s opening, and penetrated Jon with one slow, smooth motion.

Jon moaned low in his throat, producing a delicious vibration which thrummed up Roland’s spine and set his skin tingling. Roland threaded his fingers through Jon’s soft curls and fucked his mouth in an easy rhythm.

Jeremiah came first, growling like an animal and pounding into Jon’s body with all his strength. He pulled out with a sigh, then grasped Jon’s shoulders and tore him away from Roland’s cock.

“Let me taste him now,” Jeremiah said, flicking his tongue into Jon’s ear.

Jon gazed so forlornly at Roland’s erection, glistening with saliva still, that Roland had to stifle a giggle.

“Come up here, baby,” Roland said, “and let me suck you off. You know how much I love doing that.”

Jon grinned. “I know.” He scooted up until he was kneeling over Roland’s face. Roland grabbed his hips firmly in both hands and pulled him down. Jon lowered his cock into Roland’s open mouth and let out a blissful sigh.

Roland heard his own moans as if from a great distance. His head buzzed, his pulse roared in his ears. Nothing in the world had ever felt so amazing as Jon’s thick cock filling his throat while Jeremiah’s plush mouth and strong hands pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

The orgasm hit him with the force of a speeding train, and he screamed around Jon’s flesh as his semen pumped into Jeremiah’s mouth. Tremors shook him from head to toe as Jeremiah sucked him dry. And kept on sucking. A sharp, tugging pain started in his cock. He struggled, but Jeremiah’s mouth remained locked to his flesh. He could hear the wet suckling noises Jeremiah made. Roland pushed on Jon’s hips, trying to get his mouth free so he could tell Jeremiah to stop. But Jon dug his knees into the mattress and pushed down, shoving himself hard into Roland’s throat and cutting off his breath.

Panic took control and Roland thrashed wildly, kicking and hitting, tossing his head around. Nothing he did worked. Jon kept fucking his mouth relentlessly, moaning and thrusting as if he couldn’t feel Roland’s distress. Maybe he can’t, Roland thought as his ears began ringing and his limbs grew weak.

The fierce pain in Roland’s cock was the only thing he could feel anymore, Jeremiah’s mouth pulling mercilessly at him. His vision began to fade, his struggles trailed off and ceased altogether. He wished he could see Jon’s face.

Jeremiah, you bastard, you did this, he thought. You said you could help, you liar.

Jeremiah’s voice echoed in his skull as consciousness faded: I can. But I never said I would.

Tears leaked from Roland’s eyes. I’m sorry Jon, he thought. Then oblivion washed over him and all the pain disappeared.

*****
“Yes... yes... yes... Roland, God, your mouth feels so fucking great...”

Jon heard those words and wondered who had spoken them. It took him a moment to realize that he himself had said it. He was naked, kneeling over Roland’s face, his cock inside the familiar warmth of Roland’s mouth. The unexpected delight of waking up that way sent him hurtling headlong toward orgasm.

He sat up on his knees, hands clenched in Roland’s hair, wanting to look into Roland’s eyes when he came. But something, he thought even through the fire in his brain, was dreadfully wrong. He realized what it was just as his orgasm ripped through him.

He pulled out and fell backwards over Roland’s body, screaming as fast as he could draw breath. Thick strings of semen splashed onto Roland’s slack lips, into his open and unblinking eyes. Jon scrambled backward, fell off the bed and huddled on the floor, whimpering. He stared at what lay on the bed, seeing it in snapshots.

Roland’s skin, whiter than paper, thin and wrinkled. Eyes sunken in their sockets. Two ragged holes in the side of his slack penis, little streams of blood leaking from each. His own cum glistening on Roland’s dead face. The knowledge was too terrible to bear. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“It’s just a dream,” he whispered. “Just a dream, just a dream...”

Eventually he’d convinced himself sufficiently to risk opening his eyes again. He peeked through one slitted lid and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Asleep,” he said to himself. “Just asleep, that’s all.”

Chuckling at his own silliness in being fooled by a bad dream, Jon climbed back into bed and pulled Roland into his arms. He willed himself not to feel the limpness of Roland’s body, the coolness of his skin. He blinded himself to the blood stains on Roland’s groin and the semen drying on his face. It’s all a dream, he told himself. Just a dream.

He slipped into sleep believing in the illusion of Roland’s warmth, his gentle breathing. But when his dreams came, Roland’s screams echoed in his soul.