Chustin Drabble-The Morning After. ~ThatsPrettySchway. Whooo! First Chustin drabble! I hope you enjoy it, and I would like to make sure you know that there IS pre-smut in this. Like, barely. But if you're not into that, what can I say. We're aliens to one another. Anywhoozel, I do not own either of the characters. They belong to miss CP Coulter, the lovely and brilliant writer of Dalton. Hope you enjoy!
Reviews are food. Delicious, succulent, and harmonious food. I love them.
Charles Roger Amos knocked on the door.
"Come on, man, what's up?"
The door opened, revealing a very annoyed look from Justin Bancroft. Charlie looked him over, his whole body. Because that's what he could see. Every inch of his body was on display to him, totally naked in front of him. But all over his well-toned and tall body there was marks. Whether they be old or new, it didn't matter. They were there.
But the only marks that caught Charlie's attention were the most fresh, on his chest and neck, come from just last night. Charlie blinked slowly, then grinned. Remembering last night in detail.
Skin on skin, tongue and teeth, bites and heated kisses flashed in his mind. Such passion, such lust.
Charlie snapped back to reality, Justin scowling with the results of the night. He raised an eyebrow, inviting Charlie to speak first. And so he did.
"I do good don't I?" Charlie smirked. Justin rolled his eyes.
"You're so fucking hilarious." He replied, his accent agitated. "Meanwhile, I have a physical tomorrow morning before the next step of tryouts for the rowing team. How the hell am I going to explain this?"
"Tell them." Charlie replied simply.
"Tell them what?" He spit out the last word. "That I have sex with my best friend of all time even though everyone thinks I'm straight as an arrow?"
"Yeah." His eyes were hard. "There are gays at this school. No one is going to give a shit whether or not you are gay or aren't. Or that we have relations."
"Yes, they will."
"So. Fucking. What."
Justin thought this over. He never thought of himself as gay, really. Or even bisexual. He'd always thought of himself as any normal straight guy. Until the night when he got drunk, very drunk, and attacked Charlie with kisses. And it didn't stop.
Hickeys all over his chest and neck. That's what happened.
"Fine." He snapped. He wasn't even sure what made him say it. He had no idea what he'd just done until after he'd said it.
And then suddenly Charlie was on him, pushing their lips together, his hand on his neck, the other trailing across his waist. Justin's exposed flesh meeting Charlie's boxers, extracting a moan from the both in haste. Justin pushed him over to his bed roughly, never separating their lips from the other, pushing down on Charlie at the bed.
Charlie made a dash to move from Justin's lips, heading for the already marked skin of his neck, managing only to leave one kiss before Justin pulled away from him, frowning in disapproval.
"No more hickeys."