Title: Crossed Wires
Fandom: Adventure World
Rating: NC17
Length: 725
Content notes: contains angsty masturbation, with heaping doses of sexual guilt and shame
Summary: Vedran tries to get himself off, but runs up against the landmines of past emotional abuse.

Crossed Wires

Macen was in bed, and Marys and Kier had both gone for the day. They'd tidied up before leaving, so there wasn't much left for Vedran to do when he finally put away the reports he'd gotten from Monti. He straightened his desk, hung up the clothes he's been wearing before he'd changed into a more comfortable house-robe for the evening, and pulled Aleyn's letter from between the pages of the book resting on the little table beside his bed, settling himself comfortably there to read it over again.

He knew everything it said, everything it implied, and everything it promised. The first time he'd read it, he'd been caught off guard and had barely made it through the whole thing. It was not by far the filthiest letter he'd ever received – it was hardly explicit at all – but the things it called to mind were no less arousing for the lack of specific description. The thought of Aleyn writing it made him nervous and excited. Aleyn wanted him, wanted to let him know he was thinking about him – let him know what he was fantasizing about. Wanted him to think about it and fantasize too.

And of course Vedran did. He thought about the sounds Aleyn had made while he'd sucked his cock, the way he'd muffled his moans against his arm, how he'd looked down into Vedran's eyes with such unabashed desire. He thought about the taste of his come, the feel of it hitting the back of his throat in hot spurts, the look on his face then, of bliss and amazement, and how he'd offered him that same release, offered him anything.

He couldn't stop thinking about it, and just skimming over the more suggestive passages had him hard in an instant. He imagined Aleyn coming back, maybe in a few more days, maybe a week if Brenn's business was going really well, showing up at his door, scruffy and smiling, soft green eyes promising to show him just how much he'd missed him... Macen would be conveniently out with his minders, and there would really be no reason not to invite him in, have him up against the door as soon as it was closed, mouth to mouth, to show him just how much he had been missed in turn. He could easily imagine the feel of his rough stubble against his own smooth skin, the feel of his body under his shabby traveling gear, the long hard length of his cock pressing against Vedran's thigh...

Tentatively, he reached for his own member, touching himself first through the soft fabric of his robe. He tried to think of Aleyn doing the same, feeling him out, promising more. Promising Vedran anything he wanted or needed, and meaning it. Anything. He wondered whether Aleyn would be self-conscious about his mangled hand, or if he'd reach for him with it, two fingers and his thumb circling around Vedran's cock, stroking slowly at first, just the way he was touching himself now. Aleyn would tell him it was beautiful, that he was beautiful, tell him how much he'd wanted this, wanted to touch him, tell him that it was alright...

In his fantasy, it would be alright. It would feel alright, and he could let himself give in to it. Let Aleyn carry him over the edge of his pleasure. But in the real world, there was no Aleyn, not here. It was his own hand on his cock, jerking himself desperately. Pathetically. Because he couldn't wait for the real thing, couldn't control himself that much, couldn't even bring himself to stop his sad attempt to come once the shame began to sink in and he felt his guts twist with it. But he couldn't come, or he wouldn't, hands curling into empty fists as he muffled a sob of frustration. Knowing how fucked up his thoughts were only made him feel worse, because he couldn’t stop them, either. His frustration and shame battled with each other, coalescing into a wave of resentment that terrified him with its violence until it finally collapsed back in on itself, dissolving into a new and heavier guilt.

Vedran curled in on himself, cock hard and aching, lying on his bed and trying to convince himself that, if nothing else, he did at least deserve to be there.