24Greetings, people! Long time, no update! Well, that should change, as this story should be updated daily until Christmas Day, if all goes as planned. However, it might, for various reasons, be taken down in the beginning of January. You have been warned!
Disclaimer: All persons, places and situations appearing in this story is complete fiction, and any resemblance to anything in real life is pure co-incidence. There will also be Angels in this story, but they are not Judo-Christian angels, or representative of/based on any other real life religion. This world, its species and its belief system are completely of my own invention.
General warning: This story contains homosexual relationships! If that's not your thing, you should probably click that little "back" butten, or close this tab/window/whatever. There will also be smut. No, really. Smut. But smutty chapters will come with an extra warning. Story also contains SERIOUS ANGST eventually, but fear not, all ends well on Christmas Day!
Chapter warning: liiiight smut at the end.
Well, then! Enjoy! ...I hope... ^^;;
The dreams always came with winter. Always had. Even as a child, Madison had never had to spy out the window in the mornings to know whether the first snow had fallen. He knew. First snow came with the dreams.
At first, it had only been feelings of comfort and warmth, of a sense of belonging. Strange, really, that with winter should come warmth. But he had never questioned it. For some reason, winter didn't feel cold to him. He loved the snow and the ice, that special silence that always came with it. Winter felt right, felt like home, felt like happiness.
Oh, he loved the other seasons as well - he had never really understood people who said they disliked a particular season - but winter was special.
Slowly, over the years, the dreams had changed, became more clear and revealed more of the source of those feelings he had always taken for granted. At age ten, a hand combing through his hair, then resting at the back of his head, fitting perfectly, as if it belonged there. Then later a warm embrace that gave him a sense of complete and utter safety that he had never really experienced outside the dreams. Or rather, dream; for it was always the same dream, really, but with new bits revealed every few years, as if his eyes were adjusting to it, or something.
Not that he felt unsafe in the real world; he had parents who cared for him, and good friends, too, but there was something about those arms, the way he was held as he was something precious, something someone wanted to protect. On a completely instinctual level, he knew no harm could ever come to him when he was in those arms.
With the arrival of his sixteenth winter came the word, whispered in a deep, husky voice; Mithra. He didn't know what it was or what it meant, but it was said with such utter love and devotion - reverently, even. He had never heard anyone speak in such a way to anyone, and suspected that he probably never would. And even if he didn't know the meaning of the word, he knew it had something to do with him. A nickname? An expression of emotion? He didn't even know what language it could possibly be in; how could he know its meaning?
He only knew that the word, and the emotions filling it were for him, and him alone.
That was probably the year when he realized that the emotion the dream brought forth was more than just platonic affection. It had been such an ingrained part of his life that he hadn't really questioned the sentiment before, but there was something about that word... Even after winter had ended, that voice, that word, had been a part of his fantasies, as if he was making up for the fact that he wouldn't be able to hear it again in his dreams for months.
He loved the one in the dream, like he would probably never love anyone in real life. He would have thought it pathetic, if it wasn't so frustrating.
Next were lips, oh, so welcome, and soft like velvet, but slightly cold as they pressed against his forehead, then lightly against his eyelids, before those beautiful lips met Madison's. That year, at nineteen, was the first where the dream changed during the winter months. Before, he had had to savour any new change, and hope the next one would come the next winter, or the one after that.
But that winter, on the night of the first snowfall, lips simply met lips. A week later, he marvelled at the contrast between a warm tongue begging entrance and those cool lips. For two weeks, Madison wanted nothing more than to give in to that tongue, but he had no control over the winter dreams. Then, finally, respite. And oh, how sweet it was. Every bit as wonderful as he had imagined, and a million times more.
And so they would kiss, in his winter dreams, for three weeks, until cool lips and warm tongue left him. He would have mourned the loss, had they not relocated to his neck, to a seemingly innocent spot, one he had never noticed before, but that now sent shivers through his body and chills down his spine. But they were good chills, oh definitely good chills.
Once again, three weeks passed, and that mouth moved on. This time, pearly white teeth gently caught the tip of his index finger, before slowly sucking the entire digit into that warm mouth, and with a playful swipe of tongue, the finger was let out again, every bit as slowly, and cool winter air quickly cooled the saliva now coating it, before his finger was once again sucked into that beautiful, hot mouth.
And it made his breath hitch, because he knew it was a promise of... of something, something far beyond this.
Two weeks later, lips and tongue descended on his nipples, and never before had Madison known such exquisite, delicious torture. It continued for a week, but on the last night of that week, cool lips pressed a trail of gentle kisses down his stomach, before suddenly pausing. The owner of those lips looked up, and ice blue eyes met Madison's green ones, and for the first time, he knew that the man, person, being, in his dreams (he didn't know what was the correct term), had blue eyes, and skin so pale that when he (or it?) licked his lips, his tongue seemed almost unbelievably red in comparison.
Then that unbelievably red tongue licked the tip of Madison's cock, and with a strangled noise halfway between a scream and a moan, he awoke, panting, not really surprised at the state of his underwear.
It had been a winter of much laundry.
As he went grocery shopping that day, he happened to notice a small, green weed of some sort by the roadside. Apprehension grew in the pit of his stomach, until he almost felt nauseous.
And quite right; that night, Madison didn't have a winter dream. Spring had arrived.
Never before in his life had he ever felt so frustrated.
Thanks for reading, people! If you enjoyed it, please review! It'll help keep me writing, for one...