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“You like this douche?”
“Yeah, she does. We had a fun little conversation out on the balcony tonight. She’s actually kinda horny for me.”
“Tyler!”
“What?” he asked. “You gonna pretend you’re not?”
“You’re horny for this douche?” Ryan yelled, right as the door opened, where an older couple, probably in their late 70’s, stood there staring at them.
“Going up?” the woman asked.
The three awkwardly waddled their way inside. “Six, please,” Amara said, mortified.
“Apparently this one,” Ryan patted Amara’s shoulder, “wants to go down. On this douche.” He patted Tyler’s shoulder, as he turned to the older man. “Bro, you believe that shit?”
“It happens sometimes, son,” the man replied with a shrug.
Hayes almost doubled over with laughter. “Holy shit!” he squeaked. “Rook’s a fuckin’ riot when he’s wasted!”
“Oh my God. Will you both please shut up?”
They got off on the sixth floor and managed to get Ryan to the apartment door as Amara unlocked it. Hayes tried to come in, but Amara strong-armed him. “Nope. I’ve got it from here, Kindercare.”
“You sure about that, babe?” She turned around, and he was sliding down the wall again. “It would appear Rook can’t handle his liquor, eh?”
“Shit. Alright, help me get him into his bed.” They dragged him down the hallway and maneuvered him inside his room, where he flopped onto his bed, face down, both of them just staring at him for a bit.
“You gonna puke, Rook?”
He shook his head no.
“Tyler, I’ll walk you out. I’ll be right back, Ryan. Don’t move.”
Amara followed Tyler to the door, reaching to open it for him, but he blocked her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “I mean, if you asked me to stay right now, I would. You know, for moral support. Your new roommate is blackout drunk, you’re all alone in this strange new apartment...”
“Tyler? Go home.” She pulled her hand away from his.
“Fine. You’re welcome, by the way,” he said, opening the door and adjusting the front of his pants.
“Thank you, Tyler.”
“You know,” he leaned in towards her, “I don’t quite understand it, but something about the way you call me ‘Tyler’ gets me fuckin’ rock hard.”
“Ok, we’re done here!” She slammed the door and locked it.
“You know where to find me!” he said through the door, as she turned to go attend to her drunk-ass roommate.
She walked into Ryan’s room, where he was still face down and now snoring. She tried pulling each of his shoes off gently, but he woke up as she got to the second, rolled over, and sat up, obviously disoriented. He reached down and tried to yank his shirt over his head, but it got stuck, so she helped him pull it the rest of the way off. “OK, oh wow,” she said, staring at his shirtless body. The kid’s abs were so perfectly defined that he didn’t even look real.
He flopped onto his back and started unbuttoning his pants, finally getting them open, and tried to wiggle them down his legs. “And there go the pants. Here, hold on,” she said, grabbing them at his thighs and fighting with them before finally pulling them off. As he lay there in nothing but his boxers and socks, she tried not to stare, but it was impossible. He had the best male body she’d ever seen in person; there literally wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, just pure muscle. She reached for the sheet at the end of the unmade bed and covered him with it, primarily to maintain her own sanity.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, his eyes closed. She reached over and ran her fingers through his hair. He moaned. “Thafeels nice.”
“You need to sleep, Drunkie. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
“Stay?” he yawned, holding the sheet open. “We’ll cuddle.”
“That’s not happening.”
