Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters appearing herein, I (unfortunatelly) do not make any money out of it either, this is purely for the pleasure of writing about our heroes.
Neither this nor the last chapiter is connected to any other SWAT-kats stories that I hope to put up soon. Same warning as before.
He holds me
It's funny how we ended up here, really, and if I wasn't so happy I'd laugh. Sure, I've gone to bed with guys because of a tad too much to drink before, but I never thought I'd do it because of a bet. Especially one he'd put up.
I bury my nose in his neck and take a deep breath full of his scent. He's warm and living in my arms and the feeling makes my head spin.
But he's tense. Am I so aroused I have forgotten how nervous he probably is? I was nervous the first time too; now that I finally have him here I must remember that.
He's not nervous, he's scared. His scent is heavy from fear.
What does he think? That I'll hurt him? Force him? He can't think that!
I tell him anyhow.
He flinches as I rouse him from his thoughts and I have to repeat what I just said.
He turns away again.
That makes me hesitant. He doesn't want to? Jake, buddy, you know you can stop me any time. I won't take it bad.
I stroke him softly. I've been told that I'm good at massage, maybe it will help. If he lets me.
He doesn't move when I touch him and gingerly strokes his chin and throat. As I slowly begin working on his neck and shoulders he ducks his head and I can feel him thinking.
Sometimes I wish he wouldn't do that so much. It sure comes in handy every now and then but not in situations like these.
Now I have reached the smooth fur on his thighs, touched almost all of his tough, slender body.
What a stroke of luck that I still have the gel in my bedside table. Ought to be out of date by now but I don't take the time to look, or care
I let my fingers slip under his tail. If he's to run he'll do it now. But he was never the type to run.
He's gripping the pillow. You OK buddy? Calm down. I pull my fingers through his tangles fringe. Calm down. A slow scratch behind his right ear, I know he likes that. Calm down. I let the back of my hand run lightly over his cheek and temple, trying secretly to spot if he's crying.
He seems to be soothed, less tense with his eyes almost closed and breathing perfectly even as I slip my hands down to his chest in a careful embrace. Deep inside his body I can feel a tiny vibration of pleasure in response to my own. I'm purring and even more so as I push into him.
He's resting in my arms and I'm sure he's sleeping. Once again I bury my nose in his neck and smell him, but carefully so I won't wake him.
God, that was good. And even better is that he seemed to like it as well. With my fingers in the soft fuzz on chest I close my eyes and simply feel him. Now he's lax and warm, a nice, settled heat against my chest and stomach.
I watch the dawn creep over the tiles, the light hesitantly touching the wrinkled covers and putting his fur on fire with deep shades of red and orange that lay hidden in the night that passed.
Passed. It's over. When he moves slightly, still far gone but slowly waking, I know it has all passed and like a dream that fades in the morning light it will not come back. And I will not ask for it.
I'll let it remain a dream.