Imaginary Friend

He felt different now, as he turned his key in the lock of his front door, turning it slowly and feeling fingers tapping impatiently against the back of his neck. Lighter. He felt lighter. More...buoyant. Knowing as soon as they stepped past the wooden frame, those lightly pressured fingers would sink into his coat, tearing it from his body and all but forcing him to the bed.

But it didn't always lead to sex. Only on the lucky days. Though each day was lucky now.

More tapping from the fingers, almost violent, and he chuckled, finally using his other hand to twist the handle and slowly push open the door, teasingly. Then he stepped inside, knowing the phantom was following at his heels. Arms were already sliding around his waist, and quick breaths sounded in his ear, heralding the usual excitement that he always heard upon his homecoming.

Then, as he let the door shut behind them, it happened. A harsh sharp rush of air and he was spun around, then lips attacked his own, urgently pressing tongue to tongue and shaking fingers buried into his hair, pulling him closer than should be possible. Breathing was difficult, but he would gladly die from this.

This worshipful love.

His jacket was shoved down his arms, his shirt unbuttoned and pants undone, clothing shed quicker than he could ever manage on his own, and they were moving, moving back to the bed. His underwear was yanked down his legs as he fell back and he belatedly realized he was still wearing his tie, but that didn't matter, and lips met again, roughly.

Ever since he'd made his yearning known, the phantom had ceased to be gentle, but not in any hurtful way. Instead of a detached longing and reverence, now there was blinding passion and aching desire, long held back but felt with a vengeance. Nails raking down skin, teeth biting at lips and skin and fingers, mouth latching onto neck and nipples and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise behind. It left him breathless and crying out all at once.

His body shook as the phantom ground against him, long limbs and hot skin rasping over his, body hair and knobby knees and sweat all mingling and feeling and making him dizzy.

The phantom was feeling him.

Everyday, every single day, every moment of the day, the phantom felt him, palms smoothing over him and touching everywhere.

As if the phantom had never felt something so fine ever before. He was flattered. And aroused. And wanted the phantom inside, making love to him, but he couldn't rush this.

The phantom would not be deterred.

With one hand firmly wrapped around the small of his back to keep them tightly close, the other hand traveled the length of his body, carding through his hair and down his neck past his jaw. From his collarbone over shoulders then down arms and over chest and stomach. Down further to between his thighs to thoroughly feel each intimate inch of him. Palm cupping his testicles and fingers stroking the path of skin beneath them, then dipping lower and caressing the puckered portal of skin further still. Back up and circling his cock, stroking softly and long legs shifting restlessly against his own. Toes tangling and calves stroking over calves, then lips pressed to his cheek, kissing and kissing and tongue coming out to trail his jaw and nip at his earlobe.

He gasped and grasped desperately at those warm bony shoulders, sliding one hand up to sink into thick hair and the other down to cup over the phantom's buttocks, squeezing gently when the phantom exhaled raggedly into his ear, body shaking harder and thrusting against his thigh, though that hand kept stroking his cock.

“Yes...god, yes....Ughhhn...” He moaned, right near the face pressed to his own.

A brief shudder then there was wetness against his thigh. The phantom's seed spilt over his skin in the excitement of the moment. Though that now meant he wouldn't feel the phantom actually move into him, it still left him content, for the remains of lust were proof of the phantom's sheer joy in being pressed to his body. The mere touch of his skin had the phantom releasing thickly over his flushed skin.

To be so revered was heaven, like he were the sole reason for the phantom's existence. It made him feel so warm inside, so happy and needed.

Skillful fingers jerked him a few more times, and even from that simple stimulation, he came, crying out soft and high, clutching harder at the phantom's back and humping into that fist wrapped round himself, til he was done and slick all across his abdomen.

Looking down, he tried to see if any of himself had landed on the phantom, but there was none. The few times he'd tested to see if any water or his own semen stuck to the phantom, had failed. Nothing stayed. It was as if the phantom had some sort of seal around him. That only broke against his skin, allowing him to feel his invisible lover. Which was fine. He didn't have to understand it. That wasn't important. What was important, was this feeling. This happiness.

They lay as the afterglow waned, though neither moved. Eventually he'd have to move. Shower, make dinner, maybe watch some television, and cuddle with the phantom on the couch. Maybe fall asleep in his arms as fingers stroked his hair.

He dreaded breaking the silence, but something had been plaguing his thoughts for the last couple weeks. “Hey.” He murmured, tapping lightly at his lover's nose and feeling it wrinkle.

There was a shift, and he felt the phantom look up at him, head tilting to better see his face.

“I've been thinking...We need to give you a name. Would you like that?”

A tense moment of pause, then there was vigorous nodding against his collarbone and fingers thankfully grasping at his naked chest.

“Hmm...I can't very well ask you for suggestions, now can I?”

He got a bite for that one, laughing because he knew he'd be getting a furrowed brow if he could see the phantom's face.

“Sorry. Just teasing. Hmm...How about...well, I don't really know. I've never named anything that wasn't a pet before. So...Forgive me if it's bad.”

No reaction except soft petting.

“You wouldn't think anything I choose would be bad though, right?”

A nod.

He didn't know how or why he was so good at reading the unspoken words from his companion ghost, but he had suddenly become adept at reading between the silences. Almost as if he and the phantom were somehow connected.

“Perhaps...” He mused, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “-something like...Fred?”

An exhalation from the phantom and then he felt those shoulders shrug.

“You don't even have an opinion, do you?” He laughed as that head shook slowly. “You'll want something as long as I like it?”

Nod.

“Okay...Well, I don't really like Fred. That's just one of my co-workers names and it's all I could come up with.” Picking a name was hard. His mind was a total blank at the moment, and try as he might, nothing was coming to him. “Oh christ, I don't know...I shouldn't have said anything. I mean, I can't keep thinking of you as 'the phantom'. That's just weird. And not very respectful to you. I'm trying to...I'm trying to think of something that would suit you, you know?” He frowned. “I wonder if there's any names I know that actually mean 'Phantom', like something from history.”

All was quiet as he wracked his brain for names that would fit his lover, and the phantom breathed contentedly against his neck, hot air making his skin moist.

That was it!

Suddenly, he knew exactly what to call his invisible lover. “Hey!” He gasped excitedly, shaking the phantom gently. “How about 'Abel'? I heard once that it meant 'breath' somewhere before, can't remember where, but somewhere. And since you can't really talk, and I always hear your breath, it's kinda perfect!”

The phantom didn't respond as excitedly as he would have liked, but instead kissed his neck and smiled against his skin, nodding once then settling back to lie on his chest.

It was a little disappointing, but then he raised a hand to caress the phantom's cheek and he felt the centered heat there. The phantom was blushing.

“You do like it...” He whispered passionately, sated by the knowledge, and reaching down to grasp the phantom's-No, Abel's chin and turn that face towards his, kissing lingeringly. “Abel.” Then he laughed. “Man oh man, I don't even know where I got that. But...I like it. You like it? All on your own, aside from me liking it. Do you?”

Abel didn't respond right away. But then, very slowly, he leaned up to kiss back, and nodded against Jacob's mouth. Then his breath hitched and he broke away, bending back down to cling to Jacob's chest.

Moisture dripped onto his skin, beading into a pool. Abel was crying, and a quick brush of fingers over his unseen cheek proved that. Jacob smiled.

“Are you happy?”

A quick jerky nod and stifled breathing with arms wrapping around Jacob's body.

“Me too. I love you, Abel.”

A sob of air, more hugging, and unrefined kisses dragged over his shoulder to his mouth. Jacob laughed into it, feeling elation on its highest level.

“I love you, Jacob.”

Jacob stilled, his skin prickling from the sound of his lover's voice in his ear. Never again did he think he'd hear it, but there it was, sending shocks through him.

The phantom moved suddenly, lifting off him and he smiled confused, quirking his lips in question.

“Where are you-?”

Fingers abruptly dug into his skin, nails hard enough to almost break the skin, and he grunted in pain at the feel.

“What-?”

Then, the marks of legs and body indenting the mattress were gone and those clutching fingers were being pulled away, though their grip didn't lesson at all. As if Abel were trying to hold onto him.

Yet failing.

One hand let go, and at once Jacob reacted, grabbing onto that hand and trying to hold to it, but then he felt it. Abel was being pulled away, away from him and to somewhere else, he just knew it. And he had to stop it or else he'd be left behind, left along again.

“Abel! Stop! Please!”

His grip, try as he might, weakened, and Abel's hand flew out of his own. Jacob scrambled to his knees, reaching forward blindly for that heat.

“Abel! Where are you! Come here! Please!”

But the air was empty and quiet. No breathing, no warmth, no presence. Nothing.

Abel was gone.

Leaving Jacob alone again. Alone like before, but this time much more devastating.

TO BE CONTINUED