Fantasies

P.O.V.: Bridger’s

I hadn’t known he would do it, hell, I hadn’t known that he even wanted to. One moment he was wrapped in my arms so tight that I could feel his heart beating through all those layers of clothing that he’s so fond of. A blink of an eyelash later and his mouth was pressed on mine, the feel of small even teeth painfully crushed against my lips.

I pushed him away. The movements were gentle but firm and, still, I left him almost reeling in my anger. Here I was, towering over this boy, wanting to shake him. I swallowed hard, spit almost refusing to go down and still wanting only to grab him by his thin shoulders and start shaking, punctuating each of his shocked cries with my own demands: “What the hell are you thinking?” and “Get on that vid-phone and call your father”. I did no such thing, of course. I grabbed him, yes, but only used enough pressure to keep him in my Quarters.

“Lucas. Look at me.” He doesn’t and I sigh, “That’s an order.”

He faced me then, flushed with shame and blue eyes over-flowing with emotions that I just couldn’t seem to read, “I didn’t mean – Captain – I mean, I thought…”

I don’t let him continue, pulled him into a hug tight enough to leave my shoulders burning and him gasping for air. I stroke his blond hair, loving the feel of a child in my arms and, involuntarily, comparing the feel of him to the feel of Robert. When I let go, he stood, uncertainty proclaimed with the weight shifting from one foot to the other then back again. Left to right, right to left.

“Lucas, I don’t want anything from you.”

I was at a loss, how to fix this mess without damaging adolescent pride. I opened my mouth, still unsure of the words and find my would-be speech interrupted by a laugh, low and cynical. The laugh doesn’t mesh with the softness around his mouth or the mischievous gleam in his eyes whenever Ben Krieg is around causing trouble.

“Do you think that I would kiss you only because you’re nice to me?” He laughs again, the same hated sound, “Give me some credit, Captain. I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“You’re young. You don’t know what you want.”

I fell back on age again, the only thing that actually stopped me from being flattered by his advances…the only thing that kept an old fool like me from kissing him back when his lips first touched mine. I looked at him, really looked at him; looked hard, trying not to see Robert. I took in the balled fists at his sides, the defiance in his pose, the authority in his voice…and the flush still colouring his cheeks.

He was young; he was brilliant…he was a college graduate. A young man in his own right, but so damn young. Sixteen, and I looked at him the way I look at Kristen. And he saw me looking at him like that because I saw him smile; not the smug smile he gives when he spews off his computer lingo either.

He walked over to me. His self-confidence was so thick that I couldn’t tell if it was a farce. His lips pressed against mine again only, this time, I pressed back. My tongue painted his bottom lip licked it until his mouth opened and I shoved my tongue into him. I sucked on his tongue until he moaned into my mouth, ground against my leg. I let him and, deep down inside, I loved it.

I loved him. Not in the way that I loved sexual partners, not even the way that I loved Robert, but in another way. Maybe it wasn’t pure and I’m not sure that it was right, even now, but I laid him down across my bunk, my weight settling on top of his body.

He squirmed, moved until I moved and rolled until he was on top, his legs straddling my hips. He leaned in, a hand on either side of my head, and kissed me again. He kissed me with enough force to leave me breathless. When he spoke, his voice was airy; the kiss had left him breathless as well.

“Do you ever fantasize about me?”

There was no time for lies, not when he was on top of me and sex hung heavy in the air, “Yes.”

He smiled and the smile that made me think of Robert. Robert when he was young, Robert with plans in his head and a group of boys waiting for him outside our front door, “Really? What do I do?”

Foreplay? Or was he asking because he didn’t know what he was doing? I didn’t know then and I never want to know, “You take my clothes off.”

“Captain?” The mocking tone and, if it wasn’t tempered by that smile, I might have ended it there, “What perverted fantasies we have.”

Slowly, he tore at my clothes. He was trembling slightly, maybe from passion or maybe from his own inexperience. After a few clumsy seconds, I reached for his own clothing and those layers that he loves so much fell ungracefully to the floor.

I prepared myself for him and closed my eyes as he slid himself slowly down onto me. It was heaven. I moved in and out of his body, hands on his hips to set the pace. He breathed heavily above me, the soft sweet breath of a child. It was hell.

Little puffs of air, punctuated by almost inaudible cries, left his lips with each hard thrust. I came inside of him, thrusting hard into his body for the last time, knowing that I was hurting him, but not caring. Not caring that he’s hard against me, that I had orgasmed because of this child and he hadn’t.

My softened penis slipped out of his body at the same moment that my hand snaked around his shaft. I jerked him off until he came, a sudden intake of breath between his teeth almost as if he was in sudden and acute pain, before the rush of an exhale. He collapsed on me, boneless from the ordeal and guilt washed through me again. I felt like a pedophile.

I felt even more like a pedophile when I woke up to find him gone.

P.O.V.: Lucas’

I wasn’t prepared to do it, I fantasized about it, but I hadn’t meant to. One moment I was wrapped in his arms, feeling loved and wanted, breathing in the scent of his cologne. In the next, my mouth was on his, hard, and the brain that got me onto the seaQuest to begin with, just shut down.

I still wasn’t thinking when he pushed me away. The shock of being manhandled left me almost reeling. I just stood there, mouth probably still open in shock, trying hard not to be hurt by the anger that shone in his eyes. But I was hurt, and as fear replaced that hurt, I had to look away, studying the floor and found myself wishing that it would open and swallow me. I wanted to disappear, just like in one of those pathetic science-fiction stories. Disappear before his eyes and never face the consequences.

“Lucas. Look at me.” His voice was soft, re-assuring, but I can’t look up. Not until he sighs, “That’s an order.”

I looked at him, scanning for anger and finding none. But my heart is still pounding in my chest and it’s pounding so hard that I can barely breathe, “I didn’t mean – Captain – I mean, I thought…”

I couldn’t finish. There were so many excuses, each hallow to my internal ear. It didn’t matter because he pulled me into a hug. It was uncomfortable, but it was still a hug and I suddenly felt better. It was almost as if I didn’t just screw up royally and he still loved me. I felt his hand on my hair, heard him sigh softly near my ear, and desperately wished that I could read his mind. Was he angry? Did the hug make everything magically okay? I’m too old to believe in magic and, when he lets me go, I feel more confused than ever. He left me standing there, uncomfortable and, strangely, feeling more alone than ever.

“Lucas, I don’t want anything from you.”

Anger replaced my confusion. The Captain stood in front of me, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as he tried to gently explain to me how I couldn’t possibly have kissed him of my own free will. No I must be injured somehow, maybe because of my parents’ lack of attention. I could almost read his thoughts; almost hear the speech that would come out of his mouth. Probably something like “I think that you’re confusing genuine affection with sexual feelings.” I couldn’t help but laugh. It sounded so like him and I really didn’t want to hear any of it.

“Do you think that I would kiss you only because you’re nice to me?” I laughed again, cynical and bitter. Why couldn’t they understand that I have needs too? That maybe I was more than a baby-faced college graduate, “Give me some credit, Captain. I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“You’re young. You don’t know what you want.”

Fuck. I hated it when he spewed off how young I was. I was never young, not really. When I was young, I was also surrounded by people older than I was. I never giggled at the word “penis” when the teacher said it in high school, couldn’t because the other students considered me too young to know what a penis was really for and the teachers expected more the moment they read “child genius” on my record. He was treating me exactly like those people, and I expected more from him. I confided in him too many times and let him see the real me much too often to be dismissed as an ignorant child now. I clenched my fists and tried not to blow it by blowing my cool.

I walked over to him. Not letting him see that I was nervous, only wanting him to realize that I was fully capable of deciding what I wanted. Not letting myself think about it, I pressed my mouth on his again, almost pulling back when he didn’t pull away. Silently panicked when he pushed me onto his bunk.

I forced him to move. I couldn’t relax if I wasn’t in control. I laid on top of him, straddling his hips, initiating the kiss, anything to keep myself from bolting toward his door and proving that I was too immature to handle my own emotions. I let him kiss me, trying to let his lips convince me that I didn’t really want to leave.

“Do you ever fantasize about me?” I had to ask. Had to know that he really did want me before going any further. I almost breathed a sigh of relief when he said yes.

Curiosity overcame me and I couldn’t help smiling, “Really? What do I do?”

“You take my clothes off.”

“Captain?” I kept smiling, proud of myself for having an effect on him, “What perverted fantasies we have.”

I started taking off his clothes. It was hard. I had to move at a snail’s pace to hide my difficulty. Even though he moved to help me, it wasn’t working well. I felt like an idiot suddenly…or like a child caught trying to be a man. I was about to give up, maybe confess that I was a moron, when his hands came up, reaching for my own clothing. Taking off my clothes and dropping them to the ground.

I watched as he lubricated his erection with a small tube he grabbed out of a drawer. I watched, eyes probably as wide as saucers, watched the way that the lube made his penis glisten, watched and wondered how the hell that thing was going to fit inside of me. I took a deep breath and, when he put the tube down, I started forcing my way down him. My eyes screwed shut and I had to make myself continue. Don’t be a baby, Lucas. Don’t be a baby. And then I was completely on him, feeling him pressing up inside me, feeling so full that I swear, I could taste him at the back of my throat. Tentatively, I moved up and down, his hands were a comforting weight on my hips.

I set the pace as a slow one, but he sped up quickly. I just concentrated on moving, almost blocking out the whirling sensation that he was creating in my stomach. I almost didn’t feel the pressure building inside me, barely felt the sudden hard thrust into my body as he came. I only felt a sudden disappointment; it was over, the pressure quickly retreating, and I hadn’t felt the “big O.” There was just the sudden emptiness of his penis, easily slipping away from me.

I wasn’t prepared for him to suddenly touch me, wasn’t prepared for the way that he grasped my erection, jerking it the same way that I often did myself. It was different though, it wasn’t my hand around my shaft, it was his. It was that knowledge that pulsed through me, dragging me away and leaving me breathless. I felt my balls tighten, closed my eyes and collapsed. I landed hard against his body, suddenly feeling very very tired.

I dozed off, drooling on the bare skin of his shoulder. I woke up, still tired, with stretched muscles in a place no ice pack was ever going to reach. I looked at the form of the sleeping Captain. What would he think when he woke up? Would he hate me? Would he worry about me hating myself? More importantly, how did I feel about this?

Too tired to give it more thought and only thinking enough to know that being discovered in the Captain’s Quarters was going to mean bad business, I sleepily threw my clothes on. Stumbling into the hallway, using the wall to steady my coordination, I walked slowly to my own room. Once I got there, everything would work itself out. Everything would seem simple from the top of my bed, radio playing beside me.

The End