There are several things that creep into my groggy mind. First of which is my arm is dead and second I have to pee like a bitch. Then one jumps ahead to first ahead of those. Where the hell am I am why is my arm dead? Peeling my eyes open I see a very unfamiliar ceiling. It is dark, not black not blue somewhere in the color of midnight with a full moon. There is no noise I can decipher but a a small snore. Turning my head I see a mess of wild dark rusty brown hair. The weight that has cut off all feeling to my fingers.

I playback the events I can remember but they still don't tell me how I got here. How I am laying here in, scanning my body, no shoes, no belt no jacket. With a rumpled man laying on my arm nuzzling my side.

He asked to kiss me, I couldn't wait. My whole body was buzzing, the energy was surging and then. "Oh god," I use my free arm to cover my face. I fucking passed out. I went down I am sure of it. "Such a pussy move." I mutter to myself, I hope it was quiet enough. Looking to him quickly he is still out. He looks so peaceful. That is a far cry from how he looked when he first opened the door. Then he looked like he hadn't slept in days, I was so worried he was on something. To get me in this bed maybe he was because I can't image him moving my mass on his own straight.

I have no idea what I am doing here but I don't want to leave this bed. He looks like he hasn't slept in years and has finally found his ambien. I take the time to block out all my discomforts and really look at him.

I have seen him but have tried not to really look at him. All this time we have been playing the back and forth I have tried not to really look. Even when he was on my couch for almost two days I tried not to do more then watch over. I didn't dare take the time to really look at him and see him. It would hurt to much more in the end. But now I am noticing what he wearing first off. That is my shirt, which on me is tight, but on him is a nice reminder of our size difference. The v-neck is lifted revealing his pale stomach just above his small belly button. I lick my lips as my eyes dip further the dark line of hair that dips beneath it and down into my familiar sweats. Sweats that are rolled down to no doubt make them fit his smaller stature. I gulp as my eyes trace the waistband to the etched muscle back and forth. That arrow pointing to where the goods are.

Suddenly my bathroom trip is even more needed, painfully so. Only problem is not waking him. I slowly try sliding my arm out but he fists my undershirt. I find my hand on his locked fist relaxes him. I take a chance and do what my gut tells me as I spy my dress shirt in arms reach. Grabbing it I turn and lay my lips to his temple while turning out from him releasing my arm. Somehow at the same time I magically manage to pull the pillow down and slide my shirt into his hand.

I want to stand above him and watch as his looks confused in his sleep but okay, but I can't. There is little else as painful as having to pee with a boner. Only problem now is I have no idea where I am and no clue as to where the bathroom is.