When Edgar woke up his head and entire back were stiff and sore, making him rise up off of the floor a little more slowly than he'd like. It made him feel old.

Wait... the floor? Why exactly was he sleeping on the floor?

He stood up and took a good look around himself. This was definitely his home. He was in his living room at the moment and facing the kitchen, which was probably the smallest part of his house, his back to the back of the couch and the television. Feeling his stomach growl at him, he walked over to the fridge and pulled out some soy milk (because he was really sure that he might be lactose intolerant) and began pulling out various other ingredients; flour, sugar, baking powder, a banana, and a large bowl. He began throwing them all together, half heartedly stirring so he think about what had happened last night.

There was a growing uneasiness in his stomach, but he wasn't sure why. He probably just sat alone, at the bar, doing nothing in particular except for wait for something to happen.

He pondered some more, stirring a little more vigorously as his mind started to wake up.

"Ok, I was at the bar and now I don't remember anything at all. That could only mean..."

...that he was drunk as hell and had been doing God knows what yesterday. He was hardly ever drunk. The thought of his thinking being hindered was just...

He could feel his pulse quicken at the realization and his breathing became more audible. What if he did something bad? Did he hurt anyone? Did anyone hurt him?

He stopped stirring suddenly and tried to find any wounds he might have gotten with his hands, jumping over his skin frantically and occasionally poking at an area of flesh that he thought may have been more... bruise-y feeling than usual. The search lasted only a few moments before abruptly bring his hands up to grasp his head, now throbbing and hurting like crazy. Each heartbeat in his brain seemed to make his vision go blurry and the world was lazily rolling around.

"Oh lord..." Edgar murmured quietly. He couldn't tell whether he was having a hangover or if his head was still sore from sleeping on the ground.

He rubbed at his neck gently in attempts to ease away the pain, massaging all the way down to his collarbone where his fingers brushed past something that felt different from the rest of his skin.

Edgar's pulse quickened to the point where it hurt, not helping his current headache. "Damn these nerves!" He cursed to himself.

He began to feel around the area until he came across that spot again, fingers tracing over ever so slight indents around his neck.

"What the...?"

He push a nail down into the grooves and the pain flooded him with memories so quickly that he staggered backwards before sliding down onto the ground.

Edgar's Memories

He was still kissing the boy madly, even though his lips were sore and bruised and Johnny's had turned a light purple. His tongue, still full of energy, dived in and out of his mouth, practically fucking Nny's throat with it. The boy only moaned in reply, his sharp nails digging into Edgar's back.

What was happening to him- both of them? Since when had Edgar been so ravenous for sex and since when had Nny been alright with any kind of touch at all? The thoughts diminished as quickly as they had appeared when he realized he couldn't breath and had to break away from their seemingly endless kiss.

Johnny's face was slightly blue. Edgar had almost forgotten that Nny was the kind of person who would keep going until he passed out. The realization excited him for reason and he took a moment to gaze at the boy while he thought some things out, though not really wanting to stop.

He's probably disgusted with me. Edgar thought gloomily, but still lusty.

He's most likely disgusted with himself. He caught the maniac's eyes lock onto his own, no longer filled with homicidal rage, but with exhaustion and longing that he couldn't express in words. It was a sensation entirely new to the boy.

"Ah..!" Johnny gasped out as Edgar unconsciously rubbed a hand at the boy's groin.

"Uhn... Edgar..." He breathed out heavily, half shut eyes fluttering crazily and his cheeks flushed.

Blushing. He's blushing! Edgar mused. Because of me he's blushing!

Edgar began to rub a little harder, making Nny's back arch as he pulled his hips towards the friction, greedily taking in as much pleasure as he could.

"Ah! Edgar... please...s..stop..." The lanky boy moaned out helplessly. The burning between his legs causing him to shamelessly give into his desires made him feel scared, but he clung on tighter to Edgar, who gave him a gentle kiss in the middle of his chest.

His chest? I think I took his shirt off...

Edgar continued to massage Nny's crotch, ignoring his pleas. Edgar was losing himself, getting the drunken sensation of not being able to think like he usually would, but god, if he hadn't always wanted this!

"Edgar... pleease... Ah!" Nny cried out suddenly when Edgar squeezed him roughly. He could feel the boy about to come and built up the rhythm of his strokes, adding a hard squeeze here and there. Johnny was soon moaning nonstop, begging for him to go faster, the shame suddenly gone from his mind along with all the voices.

"Ah... oh fuck!... Edgar... ung... please..." Tears were streaming from the boy's face from the intense feelings he was experiencing, the buildup in his groin now almost overflowing. Edgar smiled at how Nny could have an orgasm just from being touch through his pants and stopped just before he came.

Johnny looked up at him, tired and confused. "What...what are you doing?" He asked, panting.

Edgar lowered himself down so that his mouth hovered right beside Nny's ear.

"What do you want me to do?" He whispered, unusually seductively.

As Nny tried to clear his head to think about his answer, the only conclusion that he could come to was that the voices had gone away, and that he wanted Edgar to keep touching and kissing him, hold him tight and fix him, but JUST Edgar. He wasn't sure why. Nobody else seemed good enough.

[to be continued]