This chapter, things get a little bit adult. It's not sexy in the slightest. This was a fun chapter to write, but will probably be really uncomfortable to read.

Again, it's NOT sexy.

My dear Desmond wasn't the only one who had some…changes going on with him. I just simply saw how he looked in that outfit…All the outfits after…And it felt like I was looking at him through rose tinted glasses.

It was like in that moment, it finally and truly occurred to me that Desmond, my prince, oh yes, he was very handsome. He was god like, he was perfection, he was an angel fallen from heaven and he was in the form of my best friend.

And after he had left my home to run back over to his own momentarily, I lied there in bed, my throbbing headache disappearing as it was replaced with a sweet, sweet bliss. I had always known right from the absolute start that we were meant to be together forever. We were soulmates if you could. But the meaning behind it never truly weighed on me until right then.

Soulmates.

Forever.

Mine.

He was mine.

Just mine.

All mine.

My handsome prince.

For the rest of the day, it felt like he could do no wrong. We sat together, laughed together, everything that day from the comfort of my home. My chest felt so light and feathery, and my head never felt clearer. His presence alone was enough to soothe me into a harmonious state. When he finally left, it truly did feel like a hole had been ripped into my side, despite the fact he was simply putting a wall between us and nothing more.

But I needed him so badly, I don't think he truly realized it.

That night confirmed everything though. We went to bed as per usual, and fell asleep into our respective slumbers, our hands clasped together.

My dreams finally revealed the long kept secrets floating within my conscious.

In my dream, I was there, and Desmond was there, and there was no one else. And we sat in a bright, cloudy expanse, just the two of us, as it always should be. The dream took a wonderful, beautiful turn. We embraced one another, and kissed. Kissed like two passionate lovers would, the clouds swirling around us as we did.

And we even fucked like lovers- no we made love in that dream. I had never touched another person in my life, had barely put a hand on myself in my whole almost seventeen years of existence. But I knew how sex worked, and my mind played it out to be all the more wonderful than I could have anticipated. Every thrust of his hips sent a wave of warmth into me. It was love, there was no other explanation, there was no other way my mind could describe it as.

I awoke suddenly, tripped away from my fantasy to stare up at the ceiling in the dark, my hand still tight around Desmond's, and my cock straining against my boxers. I carefully disentangled my hand from Desmond's to quietly slip away from the bed and retreat from my room to the bathroom.

I almost wanted to be disgusted with myself.

Almost.

I hated touching myself. What joy did it bring to me? Masturbation reminded me of those grim days when I first entered puberty, and like many young boys at the time, their dicks simply could not be controlled. A sneeze would have their dicks erect, another would have them ejaculating into their pants. It was so disgusting, and I always hated the fact that I had been one of those boys.

Even now at my age, masturbation still made me shudder with contempt. Sex had never been a fantasy for me before, I never saw the appeal of it. Yet, there was my dream, clearly telling me otherwise.

'But no,' my mind seemed to hiss at me. 'Not sex, but love.'

We had made love. There was a huge difference between sex and making love. That is what I had to keep telling myself as I pulled my boxers down, and wrapped a hand around my cock. Made love, to Desmond. And I loved Desmond. Oh I loved him so much. He was my moon and stars, the sun that lit my world, the wind against my cheek, my everything, my handsome prince…

And my vile seed came spilling into my hand, and while that was off-putting, the idea that it came only when my thoughts truly strayed to Desmond.

Yes, I loved Desmond. What else could it be? I had always been in love with Desmond, and now he haunted my dreams, and thus it had to be true. I felt so foolish for not seeing it before.

I only returned to my room after I had scrubbed my hands thoroughly, and wiped off all traces of what I had done. I felt like I could not put my hand back into Desmond's with the taint of masturbation on me. It wasn't like I was trying to keep an air of purity around me, that ship had sailed so long ago. But I was not a sexual being, we were not sexual beings. It was fun to tease, yes, but sex was something…

Sex was something we never really discussed, but I always assumed it was something Desmond and I would wait for, and should we lose our virginities, it would be at the same time. But now, as I lied back down in bed and found Desmond's hand though the wall, I realized what that could mean.

We could lose it together, to each other. But I would not speak of it to him quite yet. I felt I had to be sure first, of what I did not yet know. But I would soon, and when I did, then I would tell him, and he would obviously agree. He would see how clear it was in that moment, just like he always did.

And then he really would be mine.

I told you. Do not mistake any of this for actual love. Remember, Alex is madly obsessed with Desmond, but it's not real love. Just, friendly fyi.