A/N: We've decided to participate in a challenge to write 50scenes from prompts, which means that the chapters will be a bit shorter, but updates will come very, very frequently. The prompt for this chapter was "sleep" Thanks to BooksAreLove, our darling beta and fantabulous friend.

Characters still not ours. We still wish they were.

Chapter Two

Waking Dreams

Sleep. Blissful sleep. Lucian was unwilling to part from it...unwilling to let it go...unwilling to cross from that precarious place where dreams and reality moved together, slow and cadenced. This had been the most vivid—the most real—of his dreams yet. He could still feel the heat from wandering fingertips. His lips still felt swollen from being kissed too hard and not hard enough at the same time. His muscles ached from their workout and his heart rate began steadily ascending in his chest just from thinking about the dream.

It was a product of sleep though...not real...an illusion. Lucian knew this, but he couldn't stop himself from rolling over to check that he really was alone in bed.

He was. He tried to bat away the sudden pang of disappointment that the dream was only that. The stupid feeling of loss that the light haired boy was not cuddled up next to him. Of course Valentine was not there, he'd never been there at all. It was just a dream. A really, really good dream.

Lucian flopped back down on the pillow and closed his eyes, replaying the best parts over and over in his head like a Mundane movie reel. The vividness of it was absurd. He could almost smell Valentine, still feel where the other boy's lips had pressed against his skin. He wondered if the glass of wine he'd drank had anything to do with the dream.

He made a mental note to obtain more wine.

The oddest part about it, though, was that he couldn't remember coming to bed last night. He remembered reclining in his chair with his favorite forbidden drink, that part had been real at least. Had he fallen asleep in the chair? Then how had he ended up in the bed? Lucian shook his head. He couldn't remember. Maybe more wine was a bad idea.

Something lying on the floor caught his attention. His stele? Why was it…the memory came crashing into him then. He'd dropped it there, dropped it when he discovered Valentine naked. In his bed.

Not a dream.

Lucian sat bolt upright and searched the room; for what, he wasn't completely certain. His parabatai? A note? Some other piece of evidence? There was nothing. He got out of bed pulling on a pair of his jeans that were crumpled on the floor next to the bed. The moment he touched them the memory of how they'd been removed came rushing back—the truth of the situation hit him again...hard. He was instantly dizzy, overwhelmed with possibility and implication. He sat back on the bed and filled his hands with his face, drawing in deep breaths through his fingers in attempt to calm his spinning head.

"Shit." He said aloud into his palms. He drew in a deep breath, held it for a moment and then released it. He dropped his hands, stood, and headed for the bedroom door. Food held the greatest allure for him right then so he made straight for the refrigerator. There wasn't much in there; he grabbed the carton of milk and tipped it up to his mouth.

"That is really gross you know." A calm voice drawled from behind him. Lucian jumped, nearly dropping the carton in the process. He turned quickly, still holding the milk in his now shaking hand. Sitting sideways in his chair, one leg draped over the arm, was Valentine. He wore a smirk and his now dry jeans from the night before, and nothing else. In his hand, he slowly twirled a half-empty glass of wine.

Lucian's stomach dropped. "Gross?"

"Yes. That you're drinking out of the carton like that, it breeds bacteria."

"Oh," Lucian's shoulders relaxed, relieved that he'd been talking about the milk…and not about what had happened between them. "Not as gross as drinking wine that's been sitting out all night."

Valentine laughed and shook his head. "As if I would do such a thing. This is a new glass. I poured the old one out."

"Oh," Lucian said, unable to manage anything more coherent. He tried not to look, but his eyes kept darting back to Valentine's bare chest, his smooth neck. There were little red circles along his collarbone, tiny bruises from where Lucian had sucked and bit at the milky flesh. The fact that they were still visible hours later, even with the Shadowhunter's natural capacity to heal, spoke to how physical the night had been. Blood rushed to Lucian's cheeks and he looked down to the floor quickly, hoping Valentine wouldn't notice.

He did.

"You're blushing." His voice lilted with accusatory mirth.

"No, I'm not." Lucian was defensive.

Valentine laughed easily. "Yes, you are." He took a long slow sip of wine and darted his tongue out to taste the lingering flavor of it on his own lips. He rose smoothly and walked over to where Lucian was standing—still frozen—beside the open refrigerator. "After the things I did to you last night, it's a wonder you could be flustered by anything." Valentine trailed his eyes deliberately down to the fabric pulled taught at the front of Lucian's jeans then added. "And I'm surprised there's enough blood in the upper half of your body to tint your cheeks."

Lucian flushed harder.

Valentine took another sip of the wine and handed it to the other boy. "Here, you look like you could use a drink."

Lucian took it and drained the glass. It settled harshly on the milk already in his stomach. He set the glass on the counter behind him and looked back to Valentine. A long moment of silence passed between the two, in which Lucian was glad to feel the warmth of the alcohol from the wine spreading through him. He was sure his cheeks were still flaming, but he cared a fraction less.

"You're going to have to get that under control if we are ever going to go out in public again." Valentine said as he folded his arms in front of him and leaned back against the small island counter behind him.

Lucian swallowed hard. His thoughts filled with every tiny connotation behind Valentines words. Did he mean for this to continue? Lucian's heart leapt at the thought of a repeat of last night while his brain lectured him on all of the consequences they'd face should anyone find out. He found himself chewing on the inside of his bottom lip.

A crooked grin crossed Valentines face and he raised an eyebrow. "Can you do that, Lucian?" He asked. "Cause no one can know."

"I—I'm...I mean I can. I will." Lucian stuttered.

Valentine's gaze drifted down and then back up, his smirk growing more pronounced. He took two very deliberate steps forward, pinning Lucian between the counter and his body. Lucian closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath as the feel of the other boy's body engulfed his senses.

"Are you sure?" Valentine whispered in his ear. "Because as much as I want this," Valentine pressed himself into Lucian, "I'm not willing to risk my place in society for it." He took Lucian's earlobe between his teeth.

Lucian couldn't speak; he struggled to remember how to nod and was able to jerk his head up and down briefly. Valentine chuckled and let go of his ear. Eyes closed, he made his way down to his lips, setting them against Lucian's but didn't kiss him. "That's very, very good news, Lucian." Valentine's lips moved against his and he felt the other boy's sweet hot breath fill his mouth. "Because I could get used to this."