The Morning After

Sweat, Heat, Friction, Fire... Not light flickering flames, but a raging inferno just under his skin,more real than any bonfire could have been. Zayne tried to arrange his memories of the night before with Michael, But each molten touch of Michael’s hand blended into the next. Every time Michael had so much as brushed his naked body, his nerves had electrified, multiplying the touch a hundred times over and forcing him to beg for mercy... or more. For once his eidetic memory failed him; everything was an unclear blur of passion and pleasure. It was like no night he could ever imagine spending with a woman... That thought lingered for a moment as he sat up, as if the realization had only hit him full force just then.
“Aww geez... what am I gonna tell my parents?” He looked to his left, and found Michael still in his bed. Bright red welts like claw marks crisscrossed Michael’s back, but he slept soundly anyway, only half under the mussed sheets. “Did I do that?” Zayne muttered softly to himself. He stared in awe at the marks, unable to keep himself from reaching out and touching them gingerly. Michael shifted, causing Zayne to pull away. He watched, oddly fascinated as Michael rolled over, still asleep despite the slight wince when his back touched the sheets. Somehow the fact that Michael was still in his bed surprised him. It seemed... Oddly sweet for Michael. A little too personal. He chuckled to himself, running his hand through his still sweat-drenched hair. “Yeah,like you could get more personal than last night.”