Author's Note: And here is the concluding bit of this little two-shot thing. There won't be any updates from me for a while, for I'll be out of the country for a few weeks. I'm going to try and write on the planes/trains/forms of transportation I'm taking while gone, so we'll see what happens. Until then, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the boys, however I do think I invented the ship at the end...mwhahaha, new OTP...
Gerard Pitts was having his recurring Smurfette dream, in which they danced to the Blob theme music on the arc of a rainbow as large-eyed aliens floated around them, moving their pelvises a la Elvis, when he was woken by the sound of a loud groan. He figured it was only Meeks having accidentally kicked the wall of fallen out of bed, something the intellectually advanced poet had never quite seemed to grow out of.
However, when Pitts cracked an eye open, he noticed that Meeks was not on the floor, but very much in bed. And Charlie Dalton, who was also very much in bed, was keeping Meeks company. Pitts' eyes widened—not out of shock at what was happening, after all, you love who you love and Pitts wasn't one to stand in the way of such an amazing emotion, but in fear of getting caught accidentally watching the pair. Deciding that he needed to convince the two that he was still asleep, Pitts let out a small snore, causing the poets across the room to pause in their actions.
Pitts inwardly groaned. His snore must not have been convincing enough. So taking a deep breath, he released an even louder and more ridiculous sounding snore.
There was another groan from across the room—this time with an irritated air about it—and a creak of mattress springs as Charlie slid off the bed—and off of Meeks—and plodded across the small space between the to beds to inspect Pitts.
"I think he's awake," Meeks whispered hoarsely. In fact, Meeks was sure Pitts was awake, considering Pitts didn't snore.
Charlie poked Pitts in the side with his index finger, receiving a loud, disgruntled snort in response. "Pittsie, we know you're awake," Charlie informed his fellow poet in annoyance.
Pitts, still hoping to persuade Charlie and Steven, let out a round of snores that even the most idiotic student would recognize as fake. Charlie let out a frustrated huff, glanced over at Meeks, and shuffled out of the room in defeat. He wouldn't have a problem continuing to tongue Steven while Pitts was awake, but he knew Meeks would never go for such a thing. Prude.
Creeping back to his room, Charlie would have slammed the door, but he was much too embarrassingly aroused and in no mood to face anybody as he crawled under the covers and wondered whether he could take care of business without waking Cameron.
Next door, Knox Overstreet and George Hopkins were lucky enough not to have to endure nosey roommates or roommates that attempted to make out with other Welton boys, for they were their own roommates and they were the ones making out.
Author's Note: I call it Knopkins...
