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the more you remain asleep, unfazed by his actions, the bolder he becomes; and soon your hand is under the many layers he wore, buried up to your forearm in the hole that made up his abdomen, going against the nature of what it was, your hand remaining intact. the warmth of your hands stands out amidst the constant chill that haunts him. it feels almost burning ─ despite you being nothing of the sort, your body only giving off a natural heat, made only more because of the sun (and even so, it's a most welcome feeling).

he can't understand it, but it stirs arousal in him, and it makes him desperate for more, forcing your arm deeper and pulling himself closer to you. his eyes blur from the unusual pleasure, and he tries to focus on your expression, the way your brows furrow from the feeling surrounding your hand, and the sounds you make in confused unconsciousness ─ believing you might be having an odd dream.

but then your hand twists inside him, and you attempt to pull back from the feeling, groaning something incoherent in your sleep and attempting to turn to lay on your back. he has to stop a whine at the loss as he lets you pull away; his grip loosened around your wrist as you stir for only a moment to get comfortable, remaining unaware of what was happening, of what he was doing.

when you relax, he doesn't hesitate for long, chasing the warmth and pleasure you bring as he climbs over you, straddling your hips. he grabs your arm and brings it back to the dangerous abyss of his abdomen, and the returned heat gains a sigh from him, something like relief. this new position requires him to hold onto your arm tighter, keeping you inside him.

the pleasure returns, and he doesn't realize that he's hard until he begins to subconsciously grind against you, dragging his clothed cock along your own abdomen. the tightness of his clothes is constricting but pleasant all the same, a sound he can't stop leaving his throat the more he grinds and holds your hand to his hole, forcing it in deeper until you're as deep as your elbow.

he knows you're going to wake up soon, as the outside becomes darker behind the blinds covering your window, and he's sure eventually people will be knocking on your door, asking to be let in. a part of him knows he should stop here, pull away and maybe jerk himself off in private, away from you and whoever else you let stay in your house. but it feels too good, and he can't stop, can't make himself pull away when he feels himself grow closer to release, to leave the pleasure you were giving him despite being unconscious and unaware.

he's grinding harder now, lost to the feeling as he buries his face in your neck, no longer paying attention to the way you stir. his grip on your arm is tighter now, almost threatening to bruise, and his pace gets faster, chasing the feeling of his approaching orgasm. he moans into your neck, and he's only half aware of the drool that slips past his lips and onto your collarbone, soaking into the collar of your shirt.

and then he moans loud, followed closely by a sharp whine, it's muffled to the rest of the house with the way he's pressed against you, but he's so close to your ear, and the thought occurs to him that you've definitely heard him, but then it's gone, washed away by the relief he feels from his orgasm. he tries to press even closer to you, as if attempting to mold you against him, force your body to combine with his. his teeth drag against your skin as he pants, his grinds growing slower and his grip weakening around your arm.

finally, he comes to a stop, the feeling of cum in his pants growing uncomfortable, but he ignores it in favor of soaking up more of your heat. your stir against him, and realization, the position he's in, how wrong this was, returns to him, and he feels a bit of panic; but he can't find it in himself to pull away, to look at your face and see if you were awake now (although he's sure you are after that).

but he gets his answer soon enough, when your voice grunts next to his ear, sleep still coating your words and confusion hardened in your tone;

"what are you doing?"

Also this one is good but I only ship it ironically