Chris woke up slowly, becoming aware of three things as consciousness returned.
First, it was damn cold in his room. He groped blindly, seeking the edge of the sheet or blanket to pull it up over his shoulders, but the covers were tangled around his waist, which required more energy to sort out than he cared to expend just then.
This was possibly a result of his second realization, which was that he'd had far, far too much to drink last night. He groaned, shifting restlessly as he burrowed face-down into the pillow.
The gasp that tore from his throat was less from the friction of his morning wood rubbing against the mattress than his third realization, which was that he'd been having a pretty intense dream. And fuck it all, he couldn't remember a thing.
He was just shifting onto his side, considering the merits of giving himself a hand versus lying very still and waiting for the vicious pounding in his head to stop, when he heard Zach's voice in the room next door, the words indistinct.
Wanking off in Chris' guest bed seemed like one of the worst ideas he had in a long time. He groaned as he forced himself up, stripping off his sweat-soaked shirt and dropping it on the bed. Walking this hard was a task in of itself, and he dug into his bags for shower things.
He went out into the hallway, actually risking looking into the living room to see if they were alone. He'd made out with himself in a dream. A new level of ego for him, it seemed.
Wrestling himself free from the tangle of covers, Chris swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up gingerly, rubbing his eyes. When the room stopped spinning he sighed, stretching, one hand sliding down to palm himself through his boxers. He hissed, rubbing a little harder, knowing he should just go take a cold shower and drag Zach out for a greasy, unhealthy breakfast with lots and lots of coffee, but it felt too good to stop. And he wasn't sure he was ready to try standing up yet, anyway.
Chris paused, though, when he heard movement in the hallway, his eyes squeezing shut as he willed himself to find some semblance of control.
"Noah," Zach called out while in the hallway, smiling just a little as Noah came bolting out of the room. He'd feed Noah then go deal with his shower, take a long walk with his friend.
He did just that, leaving Noah scarfing down breakfast in Chris' kitchen before he took over the bathroom and turned the water damn cold before he started washing his hair. Even if it meant he was shivering by the end, just couldn't handle the thought of having so little self control he couldn't keep from getting off in Chris' house.
Comments 77
First, it was damn cold in his room. He groped blindly, seeking the edge of the sheet or blanket to pull it up over his shoulders, but the covers were tangled around his waist, which required more energy to sort out than he cared to expend just then.
This was possibly a result of his second realization, which was that he'd had far, far too much to drink last night. He groaned, shifting restlessly as he burrowed face-down into the pillow.
The gasp that tore from his throat was less from the friction of his morning wood rubbing against the mattress than his third realization, which was that he'd been having a pretty intense dream. And fuck it all, he couldn't remember a thing.
He was just shifting onto his side, considering the merits of giving himself a hand versus lying very still and waiting for the vicious pounding in his head to stop, when he heard Zach's voice in the room next door, the words indistinct.
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He went out into the hallway, actually risking looking into the living room to see if they were alone. He'd made out with himself in a dream. A new level of ego for him, it seemed.
Reply
Chris paused, though, when he heard movement in the hallway, his eyes squeezing shut as he willed himself to find some semblance of control.
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He did just that, leaving Noah scarfing down breakfast in Chris' kitchen before he took over the bathroom and turned the water damn cold before he started washing his hair. Even if it meant he was shivering by the end, just couldn't handle the thought of having so little self control he couldn't keep from getting off in Chris' house.
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