Summary: Amy has just returned home from her first year in college. She has a dream about her college crush. It's too realistic...
because it's real.
Only it's not him.
A/N: Hope you all enjoy this little plot bunny.
xxx
Unable to fall asleep in her stuffy bedroom, Amy sighed in exasperation. Having just returned home after her first year of college, she was bone-tired from the long airplane ride from California. Still, she just couldn't fall asleep, not even in her pitch-black room. Her mind was buzzing with the persistent chaos of finals, all the numbers, formulas, and facts blazing through her brain like a herd of wild horses. Plus, it didn't help that she could not stand the humidity seeping into her bedroom and the loud whirl of the overhead fan.
Maybe counting sheep would do her good, or watching a movie. But unfortunately for her, her laptop was dead. It had done its faithful duty, letting her finish off her important 12-page essay before its death.
She closed her eyes and tried to envision Henry, her lab partner, her first real crush.
He was kind, thoughtful, handsome, and rather shy. Which was why she had been attracted to him in the first place. It had been a slow-burning one-sided love. Her feelings had just crept up, and one day, BANG! She was staring at him with a new pair of lenses. Despite his devilish good looks, he never used them to his advantage in getting female attention or acting all-around superior to his peers. He had never even had a girlfriend!
However, she wished she'd had the courage to flirt, to test his reaction to her womanly charms, if she had any, which she doubted but no less, wished for. But when he had kissed her, in their final class period together, she had been too flabbergasted to respond. She didn't know whether to pinch herself hard, or slap him for not doing so earlier. She was really just too inexperienced, too stupid. And then it was too late. He left before she could get a word in, or a stutter, in her case.
It was only now, laying awake in her stifling bed, the realization dawned on her that she would have to wait a whole 3 months to find the answer. But looking at the bright side, there was hope, right?
In her usually chaste mind, she conjured up the striking image of Henry with his pale blue eyes, as he meticulously measured the right amount of ingredients before adding it to the flask. A thinking woman's sex god. She could really just sit there all day and watch his agile hands work their magic.
Just as she imagined him absentmindedly twirling a pencil on the pads of his thumb and index finger, like he always did as they waited for the chemical reaction, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
The door opened a creak. But he didn't move any closer.
"Come in. I don't bite."
The dark silhouette cautiously moved toward her bed, careful not to bump into anything, and sat at the other end of her bed, facing her.
"My room's been given away for the time being. That's what happens when you go to college for a long time. Random people move in. Can I sleep beside you?"
"Forgotten by your own family, how could I reject you?" Her teasing tone belied her true apprehension. None of her dreams of him had ever been so lucid. This was all too real. His voice was as clear as a bell. She could hear his bare feet pad across the hardwood floors. She felt the other side of her bed dip slightly as he joined her.
She didn't want this dream to end.
In all her exhaustion, she had invoked her deepest desires.
The bed was quite small and only able to fit one and a half average sized adults, but he didn't move any closer. He was most likely in a very uncomfortable position, hanging on the edge of the bed. She thanked him silently for giving her time to adjust to this new sensation of having a man in her bed. She hadn't slept beside someone since she was a twelve year old girl at a slumber party.
Her dream Henry was thoughtful too.
"You can move closer." She whispered timidly.
The bed creaked before she felt his arm on top of hers. She felt his hand grasp hers as he laced his fingers with hers. His firm bicep touched her breast. She smiled. What she wouldn't do to have him hold her tonight...
More blush-worthy deviant thoughts filled her mind, but realizing that this was nothing but a dream, she decided to be more assertive. There was nothing to lose.
She took his arm, lifted her head, and placed his arm down on her pillow before settling her head in the crook of his arm.
Feeling him slightly pull back, she asked, "Is something the matter?"
This was her dream. Why was he being nervous?
"Um, I have something to tell you."
Well, so do I. I've been harboring feelings for you for several months now...
"Alright. Tell me. Please." I want to understand the extent of your feelings. I don't want to make a fool of myself. Even if it is just a dream.
"I - don't - think - I... can." He enunciated each word slowly, as though there was something lodged in his throat preventing him.
"Tell me." She insisted.
"I like you. I've liked you for sometime now." His voice was a barely above a rasp when he spilled out the words so fast.
"I like you too," she said without hesitation, turning her body on her side to face him. This was her dream, out with her unrequited feelings!
She couldn't see his face, but she could feel the warmth of his breath spreading across her skin like a morning fog in autumn. It made her lips tilt into a satisfied smile.
In a fluid motion, he was above her. She was far too physically aware of him now, an overwhelming need washing over her.
She imagined his pale unfathomable eyes looking deeply into her. She couldn't see him, but she could feel every inch of him alongside her very sensitized body.
She throbbed for him.
He kissed her, probed her cavernous mouth with his expert tongue. She was rather shocked that she felt the prickly sensation of his stubble. She was sure he had never had it before. But this was the new and improved dream Henry. Maybe it was an intrinsic dark desire to have a man with a five o'clock shadow. Feeling bold, her tongue darted out to meet his in haste. When he finally released her mouth, she was breathless. His soft lips moved below her ear, to nip at the responsive skin, like he knew her well, knew what made her go over the edge. Before she could get used to the ticklish feeling, he was leaning off to the side and pulling the hem of her shirt up. She lifted her arms so he could remove the shirt, and in response, she tugged at his shirt. He removed his shirt swiftly. Next, Amy heard the rustle of him removing his boxers.
With a dexterous flick of his fingers, he unclasped her bra and slid the straps down her arms. His gaze dropped to admire her breasts despite the darkness.
"God, how much I've wanted to feel these." His hands carefully cupped her, and squeezed gently. Then, he tweaked her hardened nipples. She couldn't help but feel flush and dizzy, but luckily the darkness covered the first aspect. His lips latched onto her nipple and his tongue swirled around the receptive skin. To her shame, she involuntarily arched her back - the pressure too sharp - meeting his body with her own when he began to suck the tender flesh. She had never been so aware of her body before.
His mouth left her nipple and moved back up to her mouth. "Slow down there. You want this to last, don't you? If you do that again, I won't be able to. Keep as still as you can. Let me do this."
His hands skimmed the smooth expanse of her skin before resting on the boundary of her underwear. He pulled the waist band as far as he could before letting go, letting it slap against her hip bone. His fingers dragged her underwear down her thighs, past her ankles before casting them into the general direction of the window.
