Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.
(1) an inverted move for capoeira.
Warning: This is one of my first 'detailed' lime smut, and I'm really nervous about it...XS Please let me know how I did. Should I never do a smut scene again or do I have something to work with?
Chapter 6
July 15, 2006
Dear Da,
I know it's been a while since I was able to fire off a letter to you—sorry about that. Things got really busy here. I got really sick with a bad virus. I missed three weeks of work because of it, and before you say anything, I WAS on my death bed. The doctor even ordered me to stay home and recuperate. You can't argue with a doctor.
Russell—I told you about him in the last letter—took care of me. I really like him and I'm sure you will too if you ever meet. He took a week off from work in order to make sure I worked hard at getting better. It's really shocking to me that he shows me so much concern. I just never thought that someone who's not a blood relation would act like that. I'm doing my best to not over analyze it, but it's hard.
Fletcher is my newest friend. I think there's some connection or relation between Russell and Fletcher, but they're not spilling the beans to me. He seems like a good guy as well, and ever since that night at the club, he's been hanging out and talking with me as much as Russell. The way this guy chases after women...I'm amazed at his easy and laid back nature. The women flock to him! How the hell (sorry about the swear, but really...) does he do that! I'm keeping my eyes on him to watch for any tips. Hehe.
Oh yeah, that girl Paninya, she's been giving me a hard time too. No matter how good I'm getting at speaking French, hers is a mystery to me. She talks so fast that her words blend together into a mass of sound. I tried to ask Russell to find out what she has against me, but she wouldn't confide in him. I don't think I'll ever know what her issues are...
Okay, well I got something huge to tell you about...but I'm not sure what you'll make of it...sigh...Okay, so I told you about me joining the Capoeira Club, and how much I really liked it...well while at the hospital (Russell insisted that I go and make sure I didn't have pneumonia) we ran into my instructor, Ling. There he proceeded to drop a HUGE bombshell on me. Apparently, I am a natural in doing martial arts, and he wanted to do extra training in various other types martial arts as well, in order for me to compete at the World Championships in L.A. in two years. Russell thinks this is great, of course, and even volunteered to train me up some in boxing, his sport of choice.
What do you think? Should I do this? It's a huge commitment on my part to become wrapped up in this, plus I'll be back state side before the tournament takes place. I'll have to save up my money so that'll have a way to fly there. I don't know what to say to Ling, or Russell, who continue to badger me daily to make a decision now that I'm well.
Well, with that out of the way...how's everyone back home? Is Patricia still going to send some of her cookies? I hope so, my tummy is eagerly waiting hint, hint HAHA!! I hope Mei Chang and Fu aren't driving you crazy with their inane stories... I know you won't answer this...but how's Winry?
Lots of love,
Edward.
July 23, 2006
Dear Edward,
I'm glad to hear that you have someone to lean on while away from home, Russell sounds like a very trustworthy young man. I like him already. I am shocked to hear that you were so sick. I hope you're on the mend now, and I expect a full accounting in the next letter. I'm glad Russell had the presence of mind to get you checked out.
It is possible for people outside of blood relations to become as close as family. I know that you have yet to truly experience this yet due to your shy and introverted nature. Sometimes these 'chosen' family members become closer then blood. Try your best to 'go with the flow' as Mei Chang likes to say these days—really I wonder if we should allow her to watch American TV...
This Fletcher sounds like a proper rouge, but if you get any good tips...pass them along my way! Oh, sorry about that, my attempt at humor might make you cringe, but I am a man too you know.
So you're really going ahead with learning to fight? I'm a little leery of this, but I will support your decision whatever it may be. I'm thrilled to hear that you're so good at it already. Do you remember when you were little how you used to whine about not being good at anything? I think you meant your failure to court Winry, but then you didn't want to be involved in any extracurricular actives. Sports, school actives, even friends. So, please peruse this whole heartily, and save your money for your trip across America. I'll help out as I can.
I showed your letter to Patricia, and she's whipping up a batch of your favorite cookies as we speak. She sends her love, says to work hard at becoming a champion.
Love,
Da.
Groaning at the darkness and the incessant 'beep, beep' of his alarm, Edward rolled over on to his stomach, and smacked at his teal green alarm clock, giving him a respite for a moment. So far getting up two hours earlier then was necessary wasn't agreeing with him too well. He was sure, at least according to Russell, that it would get easier...but he really loved his feather bed and feather pillows.
Sighing, he sat back on his heals, making the blankets pool around his behind, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Reaching over, Edward banged on off his alarm, silencing it and slid out of bed. He wouldn't bother with a shower until after his run. Flicking on the bathroom light, and blinking at the harsh over head light, Edward pulled his hair into a pony tail at the base of his neck. He started, and did a double take when he noticed that it was getting quite long. It was now past his shoulders, and could, if loose, touch his collar bone. He kind of liked it.
Squeezing the toothpaste onto his tooth brush, Edward scrubbed his teeth to help wake up, and rinsed his mouth. That done, he swiped a hand across his chin; no need to shave today. Pulling off his sleep tank top and shorts, he threw them into the hamper in the bathroom, and padded back into the bedroom. He pulled on his soccer shorts and old t-shirt that were lying on top of his work out bag, and then scooped up the bag and brought it out into the living room, placing it by the front door.
Double checking the clock on the microwave, Edward saw that he had 5 more minutes before Russell would be here. He padded back to the bedroom and got a pair of socks and brought them back to the front door. Donning his footwear, Edward hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and pulled his keys off the hook by the door. Locking up behind him, he took the stairs, making sure to walk quietly for his neighbors' sake's. By the time he had come to the first floor, Edward could see the familiar blue car, belonging to Fletcher, waiting outside.
Hurrying down the hall, he pushed open the security doors, and waved at Russell behind the wheel. Dumping his bag in the back, Edward climbed in the passenger seat and grinned at his friend.
"Hey," Grunted Russell, still not very awake yet.
"Morning."
"Let's get this over with," Russell grunted, putting the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.
Edward nodded, not up to much conversation either. For the past week and a half this had been their routine. Wake up at 4:30, drive to the outdoor track, run and do wind sprints, then head back to Russell's to shower, pick up Fletcher, and head to work. Not until after their respective showers did they feel alive enough to start talking with each other, and Fletcher always had a lively story about some girl he was with last night.
After work, Edward would catch the metro and head to the club to train before class started. Kicking and punching drills, stretching, push-ups, crunches; all of it was within Ling's scope of conditioning to get Edward on a level plane with the other two fighters on the team, Leo and Rick. Once class had ended, Edward would stay on and train into the night to leave at 10:30 pm, to head back home.
The grueling pace and strain on his body, when he wasn't used to so much activity, meant that a few times he had been caught at work dozing off. Between Russell and Fletcher, they tried to look out for him as best they could and kept a careful eye on Paninya.
As the summer drew to a close, Edward saw a dramatic change in his once skinny body. His overall muscle tone had greatly improved; he began to have six pack abs, cut arms and corded thighs. Russell would say subtle things to show how much he was enjoying the change, and Edward didn't mind hearing it. These comments helped to make Edward feel confident within his skin and body.
The fact that Russell was the one delivering the complements, and that he was a boy didn't even enter into his mind. He had almost forgotten the shocking confession he'd received weeks ago. He just felt that as they became closer friends it was natural that they would touch one another on the shoulder or arm, so when Russell began to let his hand linger a little longer then necessary on his shoulder at times, Edward didn't think anything of it.
On the last day of August, Russell and Fletcher both declared that they were going with Edward to see his progress that night. Elated and a little nervous to show off his new skills, Edward caught the metro after work, and couldn't stop smiling at his friends seated across from him on the molded plastic chairs on the train.
"Edward, you're grinning like you just got a really good lay," Fletcher teased. "Anything we should know about?" his grin stretched wide across his face.
"Eep! No, I don't have time for girls now," protested Edward, blushing hard he looked at his hands.
"Not even dreams of a certain blond woman?" asked Russell, watching him intently for his answer.
"Oh...well I always have time for dreams," mumbled Edward as he looked out the window, feeling decidedly uncomfortable talking about Winry near Russell.
"Hmm..." hummed Fletcher, watching the slight hint of hurt pass over Russell's face. "This is our stop guys," standing, he pushed past Russell out into the aisle.
Grabbing his bag off the floor, Edward followed behind Russell and Fletcher up to street level. He got caught up in the milling crowd and lost sight of his friends on the street. Turning around, he tried to spot their clothes, or anything that seemed familiar.
"Edward!" Russell waved over the heads of the crowd at him. Edward trotted over to them, his bag bouncing against his thigh. "Stay close, you might be a good fighter, but you're still small," Russell laughed at the small blond's sour expression.
"I don't know Russell...it seems to me that he has grown somewhat. I mean he only used to come up to here before," Fletcher indicated the spot on his chest just below his pectoral muscle. Moving along side of Edward, Fletcher measured his new height which was fast approaching his collar bone, although Fletcher, at 5'10", was smaller then Russell's six feet.
"AH-HA!" Edward pointed at Russell, grinning triumphantly. "And you tried to make me believe I wasn't going to grow anymore. You almost gave me a complex."
Whistling his awe of Edward's growth spurt, Russell headed out down the street in the direction of the club. "It's not my fault you believe everything you hear," he chuckled, though his amusement didn't touch his voice or face.
Edward jogged to catch up with Russell in order to glare at him. "What's wrong with you? You're acting all weird," Edward studied his friend as they walked.
"How so?" asked Russell, looking down at him to stare into those lovely whiskey-colored eyes.
"You never call me small, in fact you always tell whoever said it to bug off, basically," Edward waved his free hand indicating the 'everyone else' in a vague way.
"Ah...there's nothing wrong," said Russell, nodding his understanding at Edward's explanation. He looked down at his feet as they turned the corner.
"Humph...you're lying," accused Edward, glaring again. He turned slightly, looking over his shoulder at the beeping coming from Fletcher's pocket.
"Am not," denied Russell, a smirk sliding across his face.
"Are too!" accused Edward, looking up at him.
"Am not!"
"Guys! We got a problem, or...I do. I need your help," whined Fletcher from behind them. Both boys stopped their almost argument and turned to see what was up. "I just got a text message from her. What should I do?"
"Huh, 'her' who?" wondered Edward, trying to peek at the phone in Fletcher's hand.
"Let's keep walking or else Edward will be late." Russell turned back around and continued down the street. "What's it say?" asked Russell over his shoulder, trying to sound interested.
"She wants to meet me...tonight." Fletcher's eyes bugged out of his head. He was staring intently at his phone re-reading the message again and again.
"A booty call?" wondered Russell, watching the street in front of him.
"God, I hope so!" breathed Fletcher, he clutched the phone to his chest, and smiled at the sky.
"What's this? Another girl?" Edward looked back to see Fletcher's dreamy look.
"Not just any girl," Fletcher sighed, and didn't elaborate further.
Edward turned his gaze to Russell, silently asking for him to fill him in on Fletcher's strange behavior. Heaving his own sigh, Russell looked back once more. "Fletcher...met this older woman a while back...and has been gaa-gaa over her ever since."
"But all those girls he goes out with..." asked Edward.
"Are his way of trying to forget her," Russell finished.
"You got to help me, what should I do?" Fletcher grabbed on to the fabric of Russell's shirt, halting them as he danced in place.
"Man! I don't know why you're even considering this; she FUCKED WITH YOUR MIND!" Russell pointed at Fletcher's head, his voice rising towards the end. He'd also like to know why he was so aggravated right now.
"It was a misunderstanding," Fletcher murmured, taking a step back. He watched Russell warily.
"Um, guys..." Edward tried to stop the increasingly heated words coming from both his friend's mouths. He reached out a hand, one to each man, trying to distract them.
"How do you misunderstand walking in, and seeing her with another man?" demanded Russell. He gestured widely, his hands sweeping across his body. The action of his limb crashed into Edward's outreaching hand, sending it aside. "How do you misunderstand her stringing you along? How do you misunderstand how she PLAYED you?"
"The fuck is wrong with you today?" Fletcher spat back, frowning at Russell, he crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't about to drag this out on the street, and in front of Edward. Fletcher looked across at the small blond, who was looking quite fearful of Russell's venom.
"Nothing, let's not talk about this right now," Russell said dismissing his outburst. He spun around and continued to walk down the street.
The rest of the walk was quiet and sullen. Edward searched his mind trying to come up with someway to lighten the mood. Each time he tried to speak the words died on his lips. When they finally got to the club, he excused himself quickly and headed towards the changing room. Looking back over his shoulder just before he entered the room, he could see Fletcher turn towards Russell. Turning away from them, he studied his feet for a moment before pushing open the door to the men's changing room.
Running the towel across his sweaty face, Edward looked around the front of the gym. With all the people leaving from class, he couldn't make out if Russell and Fletcher were still here. He was very curious to know what they had said to one another after he left to change.
"Good workout tonight. Your au batido (1) is looking much better," said Ling standing beside him. "Leo and Rick will be back soon. They just got back from the tournament in Egypt. Both of them got gold."
"Wow." Edward's eyes widened.
"Yeah, I need to get you into some tournaments for experience before we go to L.A.," said Ling, nodding at one of his students who was standing discreetly off to the side, waiting for his chance to talk with his instructor. Smiling at Edward, Ling moved away.
Left to himself until the crowd left for the night, Edward scanned the crowd looking for his friends. He finally caught sight of Fletcher standing out of the way of a group of girls as they donned their foot wear, and smiling at him. Frowning, Edward crossed the gym and leaned up against the wall next to Fletcher.
"You were really good. You make it look so friggin' effortless. I'm so jealous," Fletcher said as he looked down at Edward's shy acceptance of the complement.
"Thanks...Ling says I need to start going to tournaments soon. It's a little nerve racking though. Um...so, Russell took off, didn't he?" asked Edward, when he couldn't see the other man anywhere.
"Tch...yeah," Fletcher looked disgusted and peeved.
"Why? What's eating him? When did he leave?"
"Right after class started," he said. Pushing away from the wall, Fletcher turned so that he could face Edward and talk without being overheard. "Listen Edward, there's a lot of history between Russell and me. Sometimes...he just gets...perturbed, and he thinks that he can take it out on me."
"I don't understand," confessed Edward, combing his fingers through his sweaty hair.
"Listen, I'm not going to go into something that's not mine to tell. If Russell wants to explain himself he will. I better take off now, you got a few more hours of training to do."
"Yeah, listen, thanks for watching." Edward didn't say it, but they both knew that he meant that Fletcher had stayed.
"Yeah, sure. I'll see you tomorrow." Fletcher waved good-bye and headed out the door.
"You have to go where?" Fletcher asked, shocked.
"Greece." Edward was grinning. He was hoping he'd get a reaction like that, and the chance to travel while in Europe was very appealing. Who knows if, or when, he'd ever get back here once he was state side again.
"When?" inquired Fletcher before taking a sip of his hot mocha and licking his lips.
"End of the month."
"Wow, are you going to have enough cash for that?" asked Fletcher. He was well aware of how little room Edward had when it came to his finances.
"Yeah—I don't know. Ling's got some cash from fund raising he can share between me, Rick, and Leo, but it won't go that far. I'll have to ask and see if my da can help out any."
Fletcher sat back in the café chair and stared at his coffee mug, in thought. "You know...Russell's family has a cabin in Greece...you should find out where you're headed, and see if Russell will let you use it," Fletcher suggested.
"Yeah, I suppose."
"Hey guys, sorry I'm late," Russell said as he pulled out the third chair at the small table and sat down.
"Russell...Edward's got some news. Tell him buddy," Fletcher tilted his hand at the small blond and sat back in his wire chair.
"I gotta go to Greece at the end of September for a tournament," Edward said, looking down into his cup of tea. Russell hadn't told him what was bothering him on the night he was suppose to watch his class, but ever since, Edward had felt the need to try and be around Russell as much as possible, somehow looking for ways to ease his strange state of mind. He had begun to invite Russell over to his apartment on his one day off from training so that he could keep an eye on him, but sometimes Edward just felt...strange around him.
"No way! Wow...my family's got a cabin on the outskirts of Athens."
"You don't say..." Fletcher dead panned, a slow smirk inching across his face. "I sense a party coming on."
"What do you mean?" Russell asked, raising an eyebrow at Fletcher.
"Let's all go, you, me, Edward and the team, and bunk up in your cabin. After the tournament we can get drunk and silly. We should invite girls too."
"But we don't know where it is?" protested Edward, slightly frantic about the prospect of all his friends mixing freely.
"I don't care, I want a road trip!" Fletcher planted his hands on the table top, and glared at the other two men.
Edward couldn't help himself, and he started laughing at the strange face that Fletcher was making. "Haha, alright, I'll get some more info about it," chuckled Edward.
Edward cracked one eye open and looked at his open bedroom door, trying to identify the insistent banging that was echoing down the hallway outside. Deciding that a lover's spat wasn't something he wanted to get involved with, he rolled over and tried to ignore the noise. After two more minutes of the racket, Edward sat up in a huff, looking at his bedside table and the alarm clock to see that it was just after midnight.
Sighing, he pulled the covers back and trudged to the door, looking through the peep hole. He gasped aloud. There was Russell, swaying like he was drunk, banging on the neighbor's door across from his apartment. Throwing the dead bolt, Edward opened the door and hissed at the man. "Russell, what are you doing?"
Russell's hand stopped mid bang. Tilting his head, he leaned in and seemed to be listening through his neighbor's door. "Ed...war?" slurred Russell as he swayed alarmingly.
"Idiot, over here," Edward hissed again, waving his arm to try to attract his attention.
Russell seemed to fold gracefully in two and got down on his knees and put his ear to the crack at the bottom of the door. "Edwar? What ar' you doin' down there?"
Rolling his eyes, Edward crossed the hallway and hooked his arm under Russell's tugging him to his feet. The inebriated man rolled his head to look at him and a weak smile spread across his face.
"Edwar, how di'you get ou'here?" slurred Russell, falling into Edward's small frame.
"Phew." Turning his head away as Russell got too close, Edward could smell the noxious fumes of alcohol. "What have you been drinking?"
"Edwar, Edwar...I've been drinkin' alsohol," Russell tisked and shook his head, giving the prefect imitation of someone trying to be patronizing, but in Russell's case, failing miserably.
"No shit, Sherlock." He nudged the man towards his open apartment door. Russell giggled loudly, making Edward cringe for his neighbor's ears. A door down the hall cracked open, and an elderly woman shot daggers at them for the racket. "Sorry," hissed Edward, shoving his friend towards this apartment.
Russell tripped over the small bump on the floor as he crossed the threshold, and fell heavily into the porch. Rolling his eyes again, Edward dragged the heavy body far enough into the hall for him to close the door. Turning the dead bolt, he leaned back into the door and watched the still form sprawled in his porch.
"Russell?" whispered Edward. Stepping over the gangly limbs, he leaned down by Russell's face. Russell was watching him kneel down. "Can you get up without falling on your ass and making a lot of noise?"
"Suuuureee I caaaaann," said Russell, giggled again and he pushed on the floor, raising himself onto his hands and knees. Shuffling forward, he headed toward the bedroom.
"No, the couch, the couch!" growled Edward, tugging on the arm closest to him, trying to divert him away from his wonderful bed. Russell was much to heavy too do more then make him pull off course slightly. About half way to his room, Edward gave up and let the drunken man have his way.
Russell giggled loudly again, rolling over on to his ass to look up at Edward standing over him with his arms crossed over his chest. "Edwar...guess wha'?" Russell drawled.
"What? Do I even want to know?" he wondered, glaring down his nose at the drunk. He was not really in the mood to drag this out any longer. His training last night had been hard, and he was tired, his back ached, and he could feel about a dozen new bruises threatening to sprout up all over his body. Thank God, that tomorrow was Sunday and he didn't have to be anywhere or train. Entertaining a hung over Russell didn't sound like a fun time for Edward.
Russell hooked his finger at him. "Down hereeee!"
"Tch," Edward bent down stiffly, resting his knees on the wooden floor.
Giggling again, Russell shifted closer, sitting almost on top of the smaller blond. "I'm horny," he broke out in to fits of laughter, rolling back onto his back.
Massaging his temples, and praying for patience, Edward sat back on his bum and folded his legs in front of him. "You're talking shit now. I think it's 'bout time to sleep it off, eh?"
"No, no, wait...Edwar...I got somethin' else to say." Russell rolled to his side and tried to focus on Edward's face. "I can't wait to go to Greece with you."
"Great...now do you want to sleep? I do," Edward mumbled the last bit, his eyes were drooping.
Russell suddenly wilted. His head dropped to the floor with a thunk and he rolled onto his back.
Quirking an eyebrow at him, he wondered if Russell's head would have a lump on it in the morning. He tried to remember if he had any Tylenol left, but couldn't recall right off. Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time, Edward pushed to his feet and reached out a hand to Russell. The prone man blinked at him uncomprehending through his messy blond hair. Gritting his teeth, Edward reached down and clasped his wrist and heaved him on to his bum. Throwing his arms around Russell's torso, he somehow got Russell upright again.
Edward squeaked as Russell's large frame leaned on him, bending him backwards painfully. He had to tighten his hold on Russell chest just to make sure they didn't fall over in a heap. All of a sudden, Edward was being pushed backwards towards his room. Russell's arm tightened around him, stopping any half formed ideas of escape.
"Edwar..." breathed Russell against the boy's neck. "God, you so FUCKIN'..." reaching up with one of his hands, Russell bushed aside the hair on Edward's neck, and dipped down, swiping his tongue up the side of his neck to capture an ear lobe.
Edward gasped at the instant thrill that raced down his spine and went straight to his groin at the warm lips and tongue nibbling on his ear.
Russell's hands began to roam across the muscled back of the small blond, kneading the tight and sore kinks he found there, unknowingly making Edward melt. "...hot," Russell finally finished his sentence, as he released his hold on the ear lobe. Spinning Edward around, Russell backed him up into the edge of the bed. He could just make out the flash of those whiskey-colored eyes in the light from the street, and felt his groin twitch in response.
"Russell...um, you should sleep now, okay?" Edward suggested, trying to distract him from what was happening now, and distract himself from what his groin was telling him it wanted from Russell. If he could do that, then he was sure the other man would quickly forget about this. The backs of his legs met the edge of the bed. Looking up into Russell's face, Edward's eyes widened as he was pushed forcefully backwards, bouncing a bit from the force of it.
Swinging his legs over his head, Edward rolled over his head and sat in the middle of the bed, warily watching for Russell's next move. His body was humming with remembered sensations, and he reached up a hand to wipe his ear hoping to banish the feeling of Russell's surprisingly soft mouth from his ear. In an incredibly fast move for a drunken man, Russell launched himself at Edward's chest, bowling him over and pinning him to the bed.
Bucking his body, Edward tried to throw him off the side of the bed, but Russell's greater size and weight meant that all he could do was press himself more firmly to the drunk man on top of him, eliciting a throaty groan from Russell.
"Jesus, Edward," Russell cursed, sounding more sober. "You're going to make me lose it." He bent his head to the side and resumed his suckling on Edward's ear.
"Ah!" Edward lost himself then, withering under Russell as another jolt traversed his spine and pooled in his enlarging groin. Russell's hands were everywhere, slipping under his shirt and twilling his nipples between his fingers, to trail down his ribs and fondle his hip, skirting his most needy area. Russell's other hand threaded through his hair holding the back of his head and lifting it towards Russell's searching mouth and tongue.
Edward arched again as Russell bit down on the throbbing pulse in his neck and suckling the spot to ease the pain. His hands held onto Russell's broad back, as he sought to anchor himself somehow from the overload of sensation after sensation that coursed through him. His groin shouted for attention, and Edward rubbed his hips into the other man's pelvis, seeking friction.
Moaning around the skin in his mouth, Russell ground back. He thrust his leg between Edward's and spread his legs, making room for him to lying in between them. Lining up their erections, Russell threw his head back at the thrill of meeting the obviously excited man below him with his clothed penis. Dry humping had never felt this good.
Edward thrust back, he had no experience at this and it showed, but both boys didn't care to complain as their heated breaths mingled. He was so close, Edward could feel the tightening of his balls as his climax got closer. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his face flushed. Russell's pace was increasing in response to Edward's frantic pawing at his back.
Russell leaned back in and captured the neglected ear and ran his tongue up the shell before thrusting his tongue into Edward's ear channel in a simulation of penetration. Edward gave a shout and came in his pajamas, the growing warmth making Russell follow quickly, spilling his seed into his underwear and jeans.
Russell collapsed on top of the small blond, partially burying him under his body, in his post orgasmic bliss. Edward didn't complain at the heavy weight on top of him, as he sought to calm his breathing and sort out what had just happened. He couldn't believe how crazy this whole thing was, and on top of that, how great if had felt.
Rousing himself, Russell somehow managed to stand up and pulled his soiled pants down, underwear and all, discarding them to places unknown in the dark. Despite what had just happened, Edward turned his head away, embarrassed. Climbing back onto the bed, Russell yanked Edward's pajama bottoms off and threw them over his shoulder.
"Wait!" yelped Edward, covering himself from view.
Unperturbed, Russell pulled off his shirt and tugged the sheets out from under Edwards body. Flopping down on the pillows, he pulled the blankets over top both their bodies and pulled a still freaked out Edward to his chest. With a mighty sigh, Russell passed out.
Edward blinked at the naked chest in front of his face. His brain seemed to have taken a vacation, because he couldn't see how he had gotten in this situation. The utter craziness of the whole thing...it's true that they had become closer, but this close? Edward shifted, testing Russell's hold on him. The arm around his shoulders slid off easily and he scooted to the end of the bed and slid off to sit on the floor. Peering over the edge of the bed at the softly snoring Russell, Edward wondered what would happen now that they had 'crossed the line' from friendship to...whatever this was, and would Russell even remember?
Padding over to his dresser, Edward pulled out a fresh pair of boxers and slipped them over his hips. He then went into the bathroom and pulled out an extra blanket from the linen closet, and took it with him to the couch. After fluffing the couch pillow and shaking out the blanket, Edward finally settled down and stared at the ceiling.
His mind replayed the event over and over. Was there anything he could have done to stop it? Had he wanted to stop it? He should have been able to fight him off...shouldn't he? The way Russell's lips had felt on his neck and ear had been amazing, and his body started to react to the mental images he was supplying. Shifting under his blanket, Edward frowned at the ceiling. How could he be horny after that? Resolutely ignoring his body's demands for pleasure, Edward rolled over onto his side, and willed himself to sleep.
-- To be continued --
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