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Summary
Sabo was having a wonderful dream.
Ace was over him, eyes low and dark; palming at his chest, fondling his thighs. His chapped lips brushed along his neck, almost hesitant.
In his dream, he could feel himself wanting to ask for more, but words didn't come. A restless, desperate feeling was in his chest, and between his legs. He wanted him, he wanted him so bad.
And were it just a dream, Sabo would wake the next morning with a terrible hard-on, and unable to look his brother in the eye over breakfast.
But it wasn't.
