I've never been particularly shy about sex or anything, but having my sexual fantasies played out in front of the guy they're about? It's too much, even for me. My cheeks are burning and my every instinct tells me to just jump off the roof to avoid the embarrassment.

"What the hell, man!" I curse, trying to let the anger override that dying-inside feeling. "I don't care if you're the king or whatever—you can't just go around dropping in on someone's private dreams!"

"My bad," he says, covering his mouth with his hand and keeping his eyes to the ground as he chuckles. "I thought you were in danger!"

"Wh- I... You... I'm fine, okay?"

"Yeah, I can see that." He fights a smirk as his eyes scan up and down my body before flicking over to his dream doppelgänger—horns and all. His eyes widen and a satisfied grin stretches across his face. "Does somebody have a demon fetish?"

I pinch my lips shut, in part because I have no good response.

"Big time," his doppelgänger says.

"Hey!" I interject. "Nobody asked you, okay?"

"Technically, I'm just a manifestation of your desires."

"Go away!" I shout. The doppelgänger disappears in a puff of smoke.

Kieran snickers and I give him a stern glare.

"This isn't funny," I say. "Just because I had one little mildly sexual dream about you, it doesn't mean you're hot shit, okay? I once had a sex dream about Shaggy from Scooby Doo, so the bar is not that high."

I'm not sure if saying that made me more embarrassed or less.

"Mildly sexual? Looked like you were getting quite the tongue lashing i-"

"Okay—I get it!"

Kieran chokes down a laugh and waves an arm in a big, arching gesture. The scene shifts from the rooftop to my dimly lit bedroom.

"Shaggy, huh?" he asks, biting his lip as if he's struggling to hold something back.

I roll my eyes and sigh.

"Whatever you're going to say, just say it."

"Did you nibble on his Scooby Snack?" he asks, bursting into laughter and folding over himself.

"There. You done?"

"Oh, I've got more. Did you do it doggy-style? Did you give his mystery machine a test drive?"

I raise an eyebrow and rest a hand on my hip as he cracks himself up.

"At least one of us thinks you're funny," I say, walking over to my bed and sitting down.

"Me? I'm alright. But you shagging Shaggy is fucking hilarious."

I cross my arms and huff. I'm trying not to take it personally, but his teasing is starting to get to me. I don't like feeling so vulnerable with him.

"Hey," he says in a softer voice, kneeling beside the bed. "Are you upset with me? I really didn't mean anything by it. I'm just joking. Sometimes I don't realize when I take it too far."

"It's fine."

He rests a hand on my knee and looks me in the eye.

"Was it the Shaggy jokes? Because I promise I'm not judging. Sure, he's not really my type, but I'd fuck Velma in a hot minute. Or Fred. Or both at once."

I giggle and shake my head.

"No love for Daphne, huh?"

"Nah, she's boring as hell. I've only got eyes for one redhead, anyway." He rubs my knee with his thumb.

"And Velma, of course."

"Well of course." He laughs and pushes a lock of hair from his face. "She's smart as hell. Not to mention the outfit?"

"The outfit?"

"Turtleneck with a mini skirt and knee socks? You put anyone in that and I'm a fucking goner."

"Skirt and socks I get, but a turtleneck?"

"I like a little cleavage as much as the next dude, but something about tits all bundled up in a sweater really does it for me."

"I honestly can't tell if you're serious," I say with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't lie, Doll."

"But you do stalk people's dreams?" I tease.

"Ahh come on," he says, sighing and moving to sit beside me on the bed. "I'm not spying on you, I was just keeping the channel open in case you called me. How is it that you manage to dream so much, anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean most people only dream when they go to bed at night. But you seem to dream during the day too. Is that part of your narcolepsy thing?"

"Oh, yeah. My neurologist says I can fall into REM sleep really fast and I even dream outside of REM. So I guess in some ways that makes me an easier target. But, wait... you said you were waiting for me to call you. I didn't call you, you just barged into my dream!"

He bites his lower lip and raises his eyebrows.

"You did actually. Or well... you screamed my name anyway."

He does his best to hold down a laugh while I cringe and bury my head in my hands.

This is it. The moment I die from pure embarrassment. I'm sure of it.

"It's not a big deal, Red, really. Nothing to be embarrassed over. I have sex dreams about you all the time and they're a lot less tame than that was."

I swallow hard and feel my cheeks heating up for an entirely different reason.

"Yeah, well, of course you think that. You're the one who gets the ego boost here."

"You need an ego boost?"

He stands up beside the bed and positions himself in front of me so that his chest is at eye level. He rests a hand on the back of his neck and looks down at me. I do my best not to check out his package but I find my eyes involuntarily migrating south to his rather notable bulge. The protruding outline makes it rather clear that he's standing at full attention.

"I uh..."

"That's all for you, Red. Your little dream back there?" He grabs his dick through his pants and gives it a slow upward stroke. "I've never seen anything so goddamn hot in my life. I'll be fucking my hand to that image every night for the foreseeable future."

My mouth goes dry and I find myself sucking in a ragged breath.

That's the obvious difference between the dream and the man—the real Kieran can say the most straightforward of things and get my blood boiling like no one else ever has.

"I..."

He leans forward until his lips just graze my ear.

"Do you need more? Because I'll always be up for stroking your ego." He flicks his tongue just behind my earlobe and I feel my insides turn to jelly.

Fuck.

"I'm good," I say, doing my best to recover. He sits back next to me on the bed.

"Door's always open, Babe. Just say the word."

Part of me wants to throw caution to the wind and accept his offer, but another is still too embarrassed by the earlier incident.

"How do I tell the difference?" I ask, deciding to change the subject. "Between reality and dreams? Or between dreams and this?"

He lies back on the bed and seems to ponder for a moment.

"It's a bit complicated. As an Incubus you just kind of know. You get familiar with navigating the different layers of a dream. When I became King, that sense got even stronger. Without that, the clues are a bit subtler. Especially if it's your own dream. Like, here..." He stands up and walks over to the window.

"There's nothing outside the window, right?"

"Not for me. You look." He gestures to the window.

I walk over and look outside. It's all dark at first, but after my eyes adjust, I start to see details: a car in the parking lot, some trees.

"It looks normal, but it's dark. Took my eyes a minute to see."

"It's not your eyes. It's your brain. Your brain is always filling in details for you here so there are no blank spaces. But in this realm, only you can see it. When I look out there, I still see nothing."

"Oh..." I look back around the room. "But how do I know what you can or can't see?"

"You can't, really." He rubs his chin and squints. "Oh, okay, here's a trick."

He walks over to my bookshelf and pulls out a book. He holds it out to me and nods. The cover is a close-up image of a yellow flower with the title Flight of Hide and Seek.

"I don't remember this book... that was on my shelf?"

"Read it."

I take the book from his hand and open it to a random page.

Be more greener than the ventured. House to want a beetle centerpiece. Switch off my coat kiwi lemon plate.

"Wait... what?" I ask, looking at the text again and trying to make sense of it.

"It's gibberish, right?"

"It is... it almost makes sense here and there, but then... it's like someone used autocomplete to finish the sentence."

"The dream realm is like a movie set. It's all for show. It looks real until you pay attention those little details."

"But wait," I say, setting down the book and walking back toward the window. "If you can't see outside, then how could you see... you know... the dream from earlier."

"Ahh. Yeah," he says with a slight smirk. "That was a full dream. This is more of the lobby. Like a waiting room for when dreams aren't happening. Dreams are a different thing."

"Why?"

"I dunno. I'm hardly an expert. But I can see the content of dreams and I can change them."

"But how would I know if you're you or you'r-"

"...the man of your dreams?" He gives me a teasing wink. "Well, let's see..."

He closes his eyes and the room morphs until we're back on the rooftop and Kieran's body double is standing there shirtless and frozen in place. Kieran walks to his twin and gives him a quick once-over.

"He's hot," he says with a smirk. He grabs the waistband of his doppelgänger's pants and gives it a playful tug before looking at me. "Should we see what you think I'm packing?"

"Is this supposed to be helpful?"

"Sorry, I do have a point, I swear." He lets the waistband snap back into place. His fingertips trail along the center of his shirt and my eyes go wide as he starts to unbutton it.

What is he doing?

He undoes the last button and throws the shirt on the ground. When I look back at him his wings and horns are on display and I do my best not to gape at the sight.

"Play spot the difference," he says, pointing to his dream double then back to himself.

I look back and forth between the two, seeing if I can notice the details he's talking about. The dream version looks more like a stereotype of an attractive man, while Kieran's beauty is more subtle. His features are softer and his hair a little more unkempt. Kieran has slight bags under his eyes that somehow make him even more appealing.

How does this man make under-eye bags hot?

"Well?" he asks.

"You're a bit taller. And you have those bags under your eyes."

His mouth gapes open and he scoffs.

"That might be the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me," he says in a teasing voice. "Who knew you were so cold, Red."

"You asked." I shrug and smile at him.

I look between them again.

"The tattoos are different too. What..." I lean in to get a better look at his ink, but it all looks like abstract shapes. "What are they supposed to be?"

"Whatever gets you to have sex with me, I'm guessing." He shrugs.

"What?"

"Well if you needed an ego boost, this ought to help." He smiles and shakes his head. "Sometimes my body changes a little without me thinking about it. The tattoos... I didn't have them till you told me you were into them."

"Wait... the tattoos... you do that for me?"

"And the scruff," he says, rubbing a hand over his goatee and a thin layer of five-o-clock shadow.

"So when I'm not around, you don't look like this?"

"Oh, I... no I mean, it's not changing back and forth. Once you said it, it kinda stuck."

I narrow my eyes and tilt my head.

"Said what?"

"You said you like rougher, tattooed guys."

A laugh slips out and I shake my head.

"I totally don't remember that but that's definitely not true."

He furrows his brow and his lips part.

"Wait, what? You were bullshitting me?"

"Apparently."

"Wait, so what is your type?"

Pretty. Tall. Medium-bronze skin. Long black hair. Horns.

"I don't know if I have a type, but I do like the tattoos on you."

"Is that so?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and I can't help but laugh.

"So wait, are they just gibberish? Like the text in the books?"

"It's mostly random designs. I've noticed a few of them are recognizable. But it basically works the same way. When I shape-shift, it's somewhat limited by memory and my idea of what it should look like. So if I'm not particularly specific, my subconscious fills in the gaps."

"But some of them are real things?"

"Yeah. Here, look..." He holds up his arm to show the underside of his bicep. There's a little image of a toaster with angel wings.

"It's a toaster angel?"

"Toas-" He huffs and drops his arm. "It's a flying toaster! Man, you're making me feel ancient. How do you not know flying toasters?"

"Is it a movie?"

"No! It's a screensaver."

I give him a skeptical look and tilt my head.

"What are you even talking about?"

"I guess you had to be there. The nineties were an odd time."

"So you... subconsciously gave yourself a tattoo of a screensaver toaster?"

"It would appear so."

I look at his tattooed chest and arms for more images I can identify.

"Does that say SF?" I ask, looking up at him with widening eyes.

He snaps his head down and his eyes land on the letters on his chest.

"Oh. Uh... yeah." He swallows hard and looks at me. "I'm from San Francisco so... that's probably... that must be, uh... what that is."

"Oh yeah, of course."

He bites his lower lip and nods slightly.

"Yeah. Yeah."

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