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Three-o-clock in the morning. The midnight of the soul. Kyle Rayner woke up from a dream he didn't remember and stared into the darkness of his bedroom. He felt . . . odd. Out of sorts. Sitting up, he reached for the lamp on his night stand and froze as a warm hand brushed his thigh. "Everything alright?" Connor Hawke propped himself up, blinking sleep from his eyes. The moonlight pouring through the blinds gleamed off his bare skin. Tufts of blonde hair stuck up from the young archer's head.
"Just a bad dream, babe." Kyle said, leaning back against the headboard.
Connor sat up and scooted next to Kyle, put his head against Kyle's shoulder. "Want to talk about it?"
"No, I don't even really remember it." He put his arm around Connor's shoulder and the blonde archer snuggled close to him, his cheek flush against Kyle's pale chest. Kyle felt Connor's warm breath against his skin. Below Kyle's waist, below the sheets, his manhood stirred.
"But it bothered you," said Connor quietly, rolling his leg over Kyle's hip. He felt Kyle's penis brush against his leg.
"Yeah," said Kyle, staring into the dark. "I don't know why."
"Maybe it'll make sense in the morning."
"Maybe. That's hours away." Kyle looked down at Connor, touched his cheek. "I'm sorry I woke you."
"S'okay," said Connor, yawning.
Kyle smiled and wriggled back down, beneath the sheets. Connor followed him, resting on his side to study Kyle's profile. Kyle had a nice profile, a nice face. He wondered how many people realized how cute Green Lantern was beneath his visor?
As if he felt Connor's eyes on him, Kyle rolled onto his side. "I'm glad you stayed over."
"I'm glad you asked," said Connor.
Smiling, Kyle moved forward, until he could feel the other man's breath on his face. Their lips found each others' in the dark. Connor sighed, opening his mouth to Kyle's gentle, insistent tongue. Kissing like that, the blood rushed into Connor's groin. Kyle pulled him close, their bodies connected at chest and groin, Kyle's leg slipping between Connor's muscular thighs. Abruptly, Kyle broke the kiss and buried his dark head in Connor's shoulder. He wrapped an arm around Connor and held him close, his hand resting lightly on Connor's hip. Gently, Connor pushed against him. Kyle responded to the silent request, rolling over on his back, Connor draping himself across Kyle's chest. Connor's erection was pressed tight between them and he could feel Kyle's pressing into his thigh. He reached down and lightly stroked Kyle's manhood.
"Do you want to make love?" Connor whispered, caressing silky, hard flesh.
Kyle sighed, ever so softly. "No," he said quietly. "Not right now."
Connor nodded and took his hand away. He began to roll off Kyle, but his lover pressed his hand against Connor's back. "Don't move," Kyle whispered into Connor's blonde hair.
Connor froze, alarmed. "Why not?"
Kyle's arms slid around him. He kissed the blonde man's head. "Because I want to hold you."
"Disappointed?" Kyle asked, stroking Connor's shoulders.
"Not at all."
"A little," admitted Connor. He lifted his head, staring into Kyle's face. "Are you okay?"
"I think so," said Kyle, his hands still stroking Connor's shoulders, running through his short, blonde hair. "It's just . . . I want to just love you right now. Y'know?"
"I think so," Connor said, hesitantly. He lay his head down on Kyle's chest, listening to the soft thump-thump of his heart.
"I don't want to fuck," Kyle said quietly. "I just want to hold onto you for a little while. Is that okay?"
Connor nodded. "Of course."
They lay there for a while like that, Kyle staring up at the ceiling, Connor listening to his heartbeat.
"I think I know what I dreamed about," Kyle suddenly said.
Connor snuggled closer. "What was it?"
"Oh." Connor stared into the dark.
"Are you okay?" Kyle asked. "You tensed up."
"I'm okay. Tell me about the dream."
"I can't," said Kyle. "I don't remember the dream."
"Then how do you know it was about Alex?"
"I've had other dreams about her. I felt like this when I woke up." Connor moved his arm, found Kyle's hand, squeezed it. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Kyle asked, squeezing back.
"Just . . . sorry. I know how much she meant to you."
"I loved her," Kyle said.
"I love you," Kyle whispered. "Do you know that?"
"Yes," Connor whispered back, his cheek against Kyle's chest.
Kyle's arms were suddenly holding him tight. "I get so afraid sometimes."
"Afraid of what?"
"That I'll lose you, like I lost her. I don't think I could live if anything happened to you, Connor."
"Nothing is going to happen to me, Kyle."
"Promise?" Kyle asked in a little boy's voice, still holding Connor tight.
They made love then, slow and languid at first. Kyle took the lead, lips moving over Connor's face and neck even as his hands explored Connor's body with bold familiarity. And then, suddenly, Kyle was on his back, hooking his legs over Connor's shoulders, guiding Connor into him. Connor moved slowly at first, wanting to give Kyle a chance to adjust to him, but Kyle would have none of it. Impatiently, he urged Connor to move faster, thrust harder. Connor obeyed, pounding into his lover, Kyle gasping and moaning, clawing at the sheets and grabbing the headboard to thrust back against Connor.
In the room's dim light, Connor glanced down and saw tears streaming down Kyle's cheeks. He bent forward, still buried inside Kyle, and kissed the other man's cheeks. Kissing the tears away. They came at the same time, Kyle's back arching upward, crying out as Connor flooded his insides. Afterwards, tired and sated, they lay together. Kyle lay his head against Connor's chest, tears of joy or grief, sliding down his cheeks. Eventually, he fell asleep. Connor lay on his back, hand resting lightly on Kyle's dark head, staring at the ceiling, wondering about a woman he had never met and praying that she would not haunt his lover's sleep again.