Dwight Houston and Ethan Brightman are in love. Nothing could ever come between them, not until the car accident. Ethan loses all memory of being with Dwight but can love truly conquer all? Can Dwight find a way to trigger Ethan’s memories?
Meanwhile, Ethan is struggling with strange feelings he never thought he’d have. He’s drawn to Dwight and knows thaat there is something important there, something he’d forgetting, something just out of reach. If he could just figure out what it was.
Characters from CP Coulter’s ‘Dalton’
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The first night without Ethan was hard. The second was worse. The third was torture. As the days went on, it only got worse. He needed more than to just see Ethan. He needed to touch him. He needed Ethan to touch him. He needed Ethan to whisper in his ear and kiss his neck and make him special. Ethan was the only one who could make him feel like he wasn’t so alone anymore.
There was so much tension building up in him and he was having trouble taking it anymore. He was trying to be really sensitive about things but when Ethan leant over, or stretched, his shirt would ride up and show Dwight that perfect sliver of skin. He was used to being able to touch that. He was used to pulling him into his arms and kissing him until Ethan dragged him off into his room and gave him so much more.
He wanted more. He needed it, craved it. It was crazy to want that at that point. He wanted to taste Ethan. He wanted to kiss him, and hold him, yes, but he wanted to run his fingers over his skin, and to make him feel alive. Dwight wanted to return the favour. So one day when Ethan was coming back from the showers, still dripping wet, Dwight snapped. The need became too much. He couldn’t force himself on Ethan though. He wouldn’t do that to him.
So he locked his door and he laid out in his bed, trying to pretend Ethan was there. It was never the same, and he hadn’t done this in such a long time. He’d never needed to. Ethan was always there. Dwight was used to Ethan’s body feeling, his fingers feeling their way over him and gentle kisses.
So that’s what he imagined. He closed his eyes and it was like Ethan was there. He could almost feel it. Ethan towering over him with that smug little smile of his. Dwight smiled faintly, imagining Ethan’s breath ghosting over his cheek. He kept his eyes closed, just imagining Ethan there, brushing kisses along his jaw.
Dwight sighed softly as it reached his neck, tilting his head slightly and biting his lip. He wanted it to be real. He wanted Ethan there with him. He wanted to make Ethan feel as special as Ethan always made him feel. He needed it. He stretched out slightly, sighing again as he imagined Ethan’s lips finding the perfect spot, the spot they always found and grazing his teeth there. It felt so good when Ethan did that and he always managed to do it.
He wasn’t even focusing on a particular image anymore, he wasn’t sure where he was going with it. He just knew he had to keep going. It felt so good and he’d missed it. Sure, it wasn’t the same, but it was the closest thing Dwight was going to get, at least for now.
He pretended his hands were Ethan’s as they moved along his sides, slowly creeping under his shirt. It made him shiver, biting down just a little harder on his lip. Ethan took everything slow with Dwight. He wasn’t sure why. He guessed it was the Tweedle’s way of teasing him. He made every moment last as long as possible. That was most of the time, anyway.
Sometimes Dwight would catch him off guard. Sometimes Dwight would grab Ethan and press him to the wall. Sometimes he’d kiss Ethan hard, and rough and let his hands roam over his body, his own smirk appearing on his lips. Times like those were different. Times like those, Ethan would grab Dwight and it was all urgency. He’d all but rip Dwight’s clothes off him, wanting to feel and explore and torture Dwight for what he did. Those were the times when Ethan didn’t care so much about teasing.
Dwight liked it either way, but he was so used to the slow torture of Ethan’s fingers, that was what he really wanted above everything else. He didn’t care if made him ache with need, waiting, slowly torturing himself, that’s what Ethan would do, so that’s what he did.
As his hands moved over his chest, he let his fingers catch as they brushed over a nipple, his breath hitching. It was all foreplay. That’s was another thing he loved about Ethan; how long he could make foreplay last. It was all a game for Ethan, to see how long Dwight could last before he started begging. It didn’t take long usually, which just made Ethan want to go on for a little longer.
Dwight rubbed the pad of his thumb over his nipple, groaning softly, his back arching into the touch without even thinking. He did everything he could to make it feel like Ethan’s fingers, trying to match the technique the Tweedle usually used. He slowly pushed his shirt further up, slipping it off and arched his back further into the touch, letting his nails dig into his skin just a little as he ran his fingers down his sides.
Ethan did that all the time. He’d roll his hips down into Dwight’s at the same time and just thinking about it was enough to cause Dwight to moan, his own hips rolling forward, craving friction. Ethan was always so good at all this. Dwight needed Ethan to teach him. He was new to everything and Ethan had always been patient, but by this point, Dwight just wanted every touch, he knew what to expect.
His fingers traced just about the waistband of his pants, a soft whine spilling from his lips. He wanted more. He wanted to give in and just let go but he wouldn’t. That’s not the way Ethan would’ve done it. Ethan was all about subtly driving him crazy and that’s exactly what Dwight was going to do. He let his fingers brush over his thighs, groaning as his hips impulsively rocked forward once more.
This was always the point where he’d start to beg. He’d mewl softly, scratching his fingers down Ethan’s back and beg for him to hurry up, beg for him to touch him. Ethan would always say he already was and Dwight would want to wipe that smug grin right off his face but he was already far too preoccupied with the fingers moving back up his thighs, palming him through the fabric of his pants. He applied just the right amount of pressure, throwing his head back and groaning softly.
He wasn’t sure where he was going with it anymore. He just needed to keep touching and feeling and moaning at the thought of Ethan’s hands on him. He needed to keep that image in his mind because the thought of Ethan never doing this to him again was too much to bear.
Slowly, Dwight let his fingertips brush under the waistband of his pants, scratching his thumbs over his hipbones and groaned once more. Ethan usually bit those. He’d bite down hard, sucking on his skin until they bruised and then he’d growl softly into Dwight’s skin, murmuring, “Mine.”
Dwight moaned just thinking about it, arching his back once more, “Mmm…”
He rubbed his thumbs gently over his hips before slowly slipping down his pants. This seemed to be Ethan’s favourite bit. There was always this pause where Ethan would take it all in, every time. It was like the first time all over again and Ethan always needed to take a moment to look Dwight up and down. The first few times it unnerved Dwight. Now it just seemed to turn him on a little more as the anticipation would bubble up inside of him.
Dwight paused, running his fingers over his thighs again. He bit his lip as he dug his nails harshly into his skin, groaning under his breath. Ethan would do that every time. He was better at it though. He dug them in furter, almost enough to make Dwight cringe but not quite. Just enough to leave marks. It was like he always knew exactly how much pressure and exactly Dwight liked and exactly where to touch him.
Dwight waited a moment more. He wanted to make the moment last. He wanted to make sure he was doing it just like Ethan would before he finally brushed one finger along his length from the base to the tip, his breath catching in his throat as he did. That felt amazing every time Ethan did that. Again, he couldn’t help but wish it really was him, brushing his thumb over the tip.
Brushing his fingers over himself, he slowly stroked, gasping and letting the moans escape his lips. He kept imagining slightly larger hands on him, stroking him, taking it slow and making it last. He bit his lip harder, unable to stop himself from thrusting into his hand, groaning, “Mmm Ethan…”
Dwight flicked his wrist just enough as he stroked himself, gasping and throwing his head back, moaning louder this time as he pictured Ethan towering over him, biting his neck, whispering into his ear, driving him insane. It was all about Ethan in moments like those. Ethan may have been the one pleasuring him, but Ethan was all Dwight could think about. Everything else fell to incoherency, everything but the Tweedle pushing him further and further towards the edge.
Dwight’s strokes became firmer, pumping faster and thrusting into his hand again, and again. It felt good, to release the tension but it wasn’t the same. He wanted Ethan and this just wasn’t him. He needed to feel the blonde’s breath along his neck and his lips against his skin. He needed to scratch his nails down Ethan’s back and to kiss him roughly as he moved his hips into his hand. Instead he had this, at least until he figured out how to make Ethan see he needed him.
Dwight could feel te familiar warmth coil in his stomach but he wanted it to last a little longer. He wanted to keep thinking about Ethan stroking him, Ethan’s smug grin, and the way he’d kiss him soft and slowly when they finished. He wanted that so badly but he knew he couldn’t have it and as one final stroke sent him over the edge, crying out Ethan’s name, Dwight felt kind of numb.
He melted into the sheets, reaching for a tissue to clean himself and again, taking it slow, just as Ethan would. It hurt a little though, laying there like that. Usually Ethan would be there and he’d crawl into his arms. He’d whisper, ‘I love you’ into his lips and that’s where they’d stay, usually just looking into each other’s eyes. Dwight grabbed Ethan’s pillow and hugged it tightly, keeping his eyes closed. He did all he could to imagine it was Ethan. He knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t the same but it felt nice for a little while. He felt a little less alone.
He buried his face in the pillow, pretending it was Ethan’s shoulder and took a deep breath, sighing happily as he took in Ethan’s scent, “Mmm…”
He hugged the pillow a little tighter, keeping his eyes closed and nuzzling the pillow impuulsively. He always did that with Ethan, it felt right to do it then. He wanted it to feel real, so he did everything he could to make it feel real. Still, as he closed his eyes, imagining as much as he could, he could almost feel Ethan’s arms wrapped firmly around him. It was nice. It made him feel safe and in that moment, he found himself slowly drifting to sleep.
Dwight knew he was dreaming, but it was a nice dream. As he wrapped his arms further around the boy in front of him, he sighed happily, kissing his shoulder, “I love you.”
The Tweedle holding him close grinned, kissing Dwight’s head and running his hand along his back, “I love you too, Dwight. I always will.”
Dwight bit his lip, looking up at him sadly, “But you don’t anymore. You said you didn‘t.”
Ethan ran a hand into Dwight’s hair, soothing him and Dwight sighed happily, leaning into the touch. Ethan kissed Dwight’s neck softly, “I know I don’t think I do, but I do. Give me some time, okay? Sooner rather than later, we’ll be like this again.”
Ethan grinned, brushing their noses together and Dwight felt butterflies fill his stomach, closing the gap between them and kissing him softly. It felt so nice, so familiar and he couldn’t stop himself wrapping an arm around Ethan’s neck and deepening the kiss, wanting it to last as long as possible.
Dwight knew it was a dream but he was so desperate for that shred of affection from Ethan, he needed it to last. It was just one night, but it was the tiny boost he needed, even if in the morning, he’d wake up all alone.