AN- And I'm back! Thanks for the reviews, and sorry for the (relatively short) wait. Actually, this is me updating faster than usual. Please don't expect this kind of pace from me, especially considering I'll be writing chapters about 2-4 thousand words long. That's hard work! And really, this is just a nice warning. I don't want you all to be disappointed… Anyway, enjoy~!

Disclaimer: *rolls eyes* Haven't we already established this?

Warning: This chapter contains a semi-thorough description of the male anatomy. It's nothing too much, but… just thought I'd warn ya (hey, it is rated "M"…). Also, there is cursing (again, the rating…).

Edit: Snoaz pointed out some of my 'tense' mistakes and one minor grammatical error. Thanks!

for Stalling too Long

I'll admit: for about five minutes upon waking, I did nothing but stare at the person beside me, not bothering to resist the temptation to run my hands through her hair- it was soft and quite silky. My brain couldn't comprehend how I'd gone from drinking at the bar to waking up god-knows-where with a cute girl (and she's definitely a girl, because, no matter how drunk I may have gotten, there's no way I'd take another guy to bed) nestled beside me, both of us completely bare.

Oh, wait. Drinking. Duh.

Anyways, this is definitely a problem. A big problem. A muy grande problemo!

All Spanish aside, I've gotta get out of here. Who knows what this broad will do when she wakes up? What if she's, like, a black belt in karate? I'd rather leave with my ass intact, thank you.

And if there were ever a good opportunity to do so, it would be right now.

Slowly, I start squirming away from her, edging closer to my end of the bed. I'm just about to begin pulling the covers off, when a hand clamps over my wrist tightly.

I freeze, and just barely resist the sudden temptation to scream like a little girl. Her hands are rough and calloused, just like a fighter's would be (the exact opposite of her hair). Dear God, she's gonna wake up and I'll die.

In my mind's eye, I could see her waking up to find a stranger in her bed, and, of course, she'll be some kind of kick-ass fighter. I'll then proceed to get my butt thoroughly whooped.

This thought in mind, I turn around at such a pace that a snail could've lapped me. Oh, lord. My life practically flashed before my eyes… for nothing.

The redhead was still snoozing away peacefully, showing no signs of awareness whatsoever.

I heaved a sigh of relief, and took a few tentative tugs at my wrist. Unconscious she may be, but easy to escape from she was not. All my attempts did was make her grip tighten, almost to the point of pain. I was now effectively handcuffed to her.

I sighed and scooted back into the bed just a bit, knowing I wasn't going anywhere.

There goes my escape plan.

Seemingly sensing that my presence had returned, the girl huddled closer towards the warmth to the point where she was pressed up against my back.

Once again, I froze.

And there goes all my pride and dignity.

In addition to warm breath on my neck, I could feel a very male organ pressed against my legs.

I resisted the urge to cuss- loudly, that is. A few curses escaped my clenched teeth unbidden, but they were quiet enough that I didn't worry too much about waking my, uh, companion.

My very male companion.

Yep.

Apparently, gender preferences and the fact that I have a girlfriend meant nothing to my alcohol-muddled brain last night, as here I've found myself in bed with another. And not just any other. An effing guy!

A guy. Complete with one X chromosome, one Y chromosome, two rough and calloused hands, girly hair, a Moby Dick, and, uh… other things. You know, the dangly bits.

At least, that's what I'm assuming. I'm sure as hell not looking.

All these thoughts form a figurative club, which hits me over the head with the force of a train slamming into a stalled car. Finally, the epiphany really and truly strikes me: Holy crap, I had sex with a guy.

Shame. Lots of shame bombards me, as does complete and utter mortification.

My only hope is that I topped---because, as if doing it with another male isn't bad enough, it'd be about as humiliating as could be if I were in the girl's position---and that's not saying much.

Silence be damned, I'm getting out of here now. I quickly rip my hand out of his grasp, much like yanking off a Band-Aid. Then, not waiting to see whether he'll unconsciously reach for me again or wake up, I'm throwing the blankets off myself faster than the speed of light and bolting out of bed. Once safely on the ground, I chance a glance behind me to see…

Amazing. He's still snoozing away, though now he seems to be frowning slightly. Since he doesn't strike me as the type to sleep till noon, I'm assuming he's the type to sleep off hangovers.

Just my luck.

I exhale the hugest sigh of relief ever, and then take a quick scan around the room, searching for my clothes.

The first thing I find is one of my socks. I slide it on my right foot, and walk around the room carefully until I deduce that its partner is, in fact, gone. The window is open, so I have an unpleasant feeling that I know where it is.

I locate my boxers strewn carelessly on the floor at the end of the bed, and quickly adorn them. My pants are all the way by the door- it's closed and locked.

The thought, Well, he just couldn't wait to get me out of my pants, huh? crosses my mind before I'm able to stop it, and I simultaneously flinch and color red.

I can't find my shirt. I assume that it was also thrown out the window while he and I were, uh… in the throes of passion, meaning it has joined my one sock god-knows where.

Maybe a hobo found and made good use of them.

I snicker at the thought---quietly, of course---before creeping across the creaking floorboards. Then, before I lose my nerve, I quickly slink back to his side of the bed and snatch his discarded shirt. He's asleep. He won't need it. I, on the other hand… it's autumn. The weather is cold. I'm not going out there without a shirt!

Slipping on the shirt (it fits surprisingly well), I tiptoe back to the door. My hand grasps the doorknob, ensuring that I'll soon be free. Free to pretend this never happened. Free to forget, although I don't remember much, anyway. And even though I'm this close to escaping from this nightmare…

I take one last look back at my sleeping sex buddy. He's still dozing, though it seems as if some awareness is coming back to him. He's curled up, trying to stay warm- in my haste to escape, I threw the blankets completely off of both of us. Huddled up like that, his face scrunched in a childish pout, he really does look like a woman.

I turn and sigh, opening the door. I recall how soft his hair felt. Damn… he really is the girliest man I've ever seen. I didn't realize I'd said that out loud until a voice stopped me halfway out the door.

"Excuse me?"

The voice was his, obviously. It was an unexpected voice, soft, yet deep. On any other occasion, I might've found it pleasant. But now... it was a voice dripping with venom and murderous intent. I stiffen and pray that he's still partially asleep. Maybe he'll think I'm a hallucination and drift back off to Dreamland.

As if sensing my desperate inward pleas, he growled, "I'm awake, and I know you're there."

I unfreeze and emit a loud sigh. I'd been this close to escaping, but no, I just had to take one last look at him… I turn around slowly, knowing that now we'll have to talk about it. When I finally meet his eyes, I'm awestruck.

When asleep, he looks like a young girl, but when awake… his eyes are definitely his defining feature. They're a sharp silver color, and they cut you like steel. This guy has eyes that seem stuck on some sort of "badass" setting. Looking at those eyes, I find it hard to believe I ever thought he was a girl- though his hair looks girly no matter what he's doing.

Seemingly certain that I'll stay put, he finally moves his gaze to himself. He doesn't bother with embarrassment, and instead goes right to suspicion, looking between myself and his barren skin with wariness; his eyes narrowed even further when he took in the shirt I was wearing.

Silver Eyes gets out of bed and starts towards me… but only manages to hobble two feet when he crumples to the ground. "…Ow."

Now, this would've been the prime opportunity for me to run, but instead, I laugh. Not because his inability to walk is humorous, but because of why he can't walk. Clearly, it means that I was topping. After all, I didn't have to hobble around like a cripple. It may not mean much, but I still feel a small rush of pride come back to me.

The other guy gets up slowly, wincing in pain as he does so- I would feel sorry for him, but I'm too busy feeling prideful for having conquered him. He snarls at me, and all good feelings leave me. "Who are you, why the hell am I naked, and what the fuck have you done to me?"

If looks could kill, I would be long dead. I gulp. How to explain this… Well, I could go with the direct approach: "Hey, guy, the truth is, we got hammered last night and had sex!" Pwnage. Death. No respawn. Game over.

…Not trying the direct approach, it is. Next option is to lie: "I don't know! I don't know anything, I, uh… I just got here!" "No you didn't, you're wearing my shirt!" "So what, that doesn't prove anything!" More pwnage. More death.

Lying isn't gonna work, either. Seems like the best option would just be to run (since he obviously can't follow me, heh), but we seem to go to the same bar, and if we were to meet there again someday: "Hey… don't I know you?" "Ahh! N-no, I don't believe we've ever met!" "I could swear I've seen your face before…" "F-funny… I don't recognize yours at all!" "…Wait a minute, you're that guy!" "What?! No I'm no- Ahhhhhhh!" Complete and utter pwnage. Death to the highest degree. Big game over.

Strike three. And this batter is: So. Very. Out.

Fed up with waiting, Silver Eyes snarls at me again, "Well? Tell me!"

I would tell you, you crazy, violent man, you, but… I've got nothing.

Well… eff.

*muy grande problemo- a very big problem

*Pwnage- a game term, basically meaning he'd get totally beaten up, or "owned"

*respawn- another game term, meaning after you're killed, you're brought back to life.

AN- And another chapter done! I had fun writing the little scenarios at the end here. Doesn't it seem like the kind of thing Gold would do (imagine how many ways he could escape from a problem, and envision his untimely demise; it's so weird, I love the thought of him imagining these things!)? The next chapter will contain a short conversation between our heroes, some making up between Gold and his lady, and… an unexpected reunion. Wait for it~!