(no subject)
Jesus, these dorm room beds were small.
That was the first thing Chuck thought as he began to groggily surface from sleep. Dorm room beds were small, there was someone else in his, and most worryingly, it did not feel like a girl. With more than a little apprehension, he cracked one eye open just enough to see that the head next to his on the pillow was a reassuringly familiar, shaggy blond. Nate. Well, that was alright, then; they'd come in from a night of hard drinking - which explained both the railroad spike that was currently being driven into his skull, as well as the fact that he was having trouble recalling much of what had gone on the night before - and Nate had crashed here rather than gone off to wherever he was currently staying. That made sense.
Except.
God, what had happened last night? Chuck squeezed his eyes shut again, sank down into his pillow and tried to remember. There'd been a party, there'd been drinks - a lot of drinks. There had been a girl, a blonde - no, two girls. No, he'd been-
Fuck.
Just like that, the floodgates opened, and Chuck could remember in excruciatingly clear detail exactly what had happened last night. Exactly what he and Nate had done. Which also definitely explained why neither of them were currently wearing much of anything - granted, given that the alternative would have been nighties, it was perhaps the best of all possible situations.
One thing was for sure: this was going to get a whole lot worse before it even began to approach better. Chuck drew a deep breath, steeled himself, and then reached over to shake Nate by the shoulder. "Nate. Come on, man, wake up."
That was the first thing Chuck thought as he began to groggily surface from sleep. Dorm room beds were small, there was someone else in his, and most worryingly, it did not feel like a girl. With more than a little apprehension, he cracked one eye open just enough to see that the head next to his on the pillow was a reassuringly familiar, shaggy blond. Nate. Well, that was alright, then; they'd come in from a night of hard drinking - which explained both the railroad spike that was currently being driven into his skull, as well as the fact that he was having trouble recalling much of what had gone on the night before - and Nate had crashed here rather than gone off to wherever he was currently staying. That made sense.
Except.
God, what had happened last night? Chuck squeezed his eyes shut again, sank down into his pillow and tried to remember. There'd been a party, there'd been drinks - a lot of drinks. There had been a girl, a blonde - no, two girls. No, he'd been-
Fuck.
Just like that, the floodgates opened, and Chuck could remember in excruciatingly clear detail exactly what had happened last night. Exactly what he and Nate had done. Which also definitely explained why neither of them were currently wearing much of anything - granted, given that the alternative would have been nighties, it was perhaps the best of all possible situations.
One thing was for sure: this was going to get a whole lot worse before it even began to approach better. Chuck drew a deep breath, steeled himself, and then reached over to shake Nate by the shoulder. "Nate. Come on, man, wake up."