Niel couldn't kiss him quick enough. He plunges their mouths together, kissing hard, kissing fast, kissing desperately. His partner is lax under him, unable to partake because Niel isn't giving him a chance to. Niel's hands are rushed, manic, on his partner's body, trying to remove clothes in the most complicated way possible. The only sounds between them are the quick gulps of air now and then, and the rustle of cloth against cloth. Niel's only being this eager - this pushy - because his partner has just confirmed something he already knew. He pushes back the oncoming swarm of depressing thoughts of his heartbreak because for tonight, he's a replacement. And if there's one thing he's any good at, it's being a replacement.

     He hovers over his partner, not quite looking into his eyes because there wasn't that much feelings involved. He sheds his shirt and watches the blank expression. He may only be half in this but he still asked for half a dream - half a delusion - and Niel will gladly deliver it. Because he needs it too. He needs that fake emotion, that false touch.

     The past markings of past lovers are faded on his body, daring to remind him of what he is - what he truly wants. Not now. He climbs off the sofa to be rid of his jeans and boxers as quickly as possible before he clambers back on his partner, hastily placing sloppy kisses on a hot neck.

     In their minds they're not with eachother. In their minds they are with others - the ones they really want but can't have. Which is why Niel exists at all.

     A shy hand on his hip belongs to a much stronger man in his mind's eye, and blonde hair is black in his white-knuckle grip.

     He wakes up alone - of course he does. Who'd want to stick around for the morning after with a replacement? There's a few messages on his phone from his friends, asking where he suddenly disappeared to last night. They were only a little worried. Standard really. What Niel doesn't expect when he enters the kitchen to make his coffee, is a small handwritten note on the counter. Fake automated words and a shy collection of digets. Niel ponders over the paper, unable to believe it exsits at all. Maybe he had found his replacement?

Not alot to say other than this is the result of 2am inspiration and I'm sorry for the wait. It's taken me this long to get my idea onto paper and then it's only at 2am and I'm writing it on my phone. Ugh I dunno I'm tired. Still I hope you enjoyed this... Thing. Next chapter is probably gonna be angst (the prompt is quit, come on). I'm hoping I can make it a little dark so look forward to that? Idk thanks guys ^^ <3 I'll dream of you lot ;)