"Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck!" Ryan exclaimed as he stumbled backwards, holding the couch for balance. He kicked the table leg that had injured his toe, only to injure the other ones. More profanity escaped his lips as he whacked the table with his hand. Meanwhile, Bolt had just walked in the door, only to find Ryan shouting at a table.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Startled, Ryan turned to Bolt. "When did you get here?"
Bolt crossed his arms, "I asked first." He said.
"I fucking stubbed my toe on the damn table." Muttering, he added, " For the fifth time today.
"The fifth time? Jesus. Is it broken yet?" Bolt started towards the table.
"Probably. Stupid fucking table."
Leaning down, Bolt poked Ryan's foot. Ryan was stunned by Bolt's sudden interest in his health. Bolt threw Ryan out a window last week and didn't seem to care.
"It's blue, Ryan. I think you broke it." Bolt turned to Ryan.
"No It's not, it feels fine." Ryan's rebuttal echoed through the desolate house. Zach plus the girls went out to get some crack and wouldn't be back for a few hours. The big domain seemed like a wasteland without everyone.
Ryan was thinking this as Bolt leaned closer. Bolt's breath on his lips snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Tell me if this feels fine." Bolt stated as he pressed his lips against Ryan's. Ryan's eyes widened at the sheer shock of Bolt's action. He felt Bolt nibbling his lip, waiting for access. Ryan gradually granted Bolt the access he wanted, and did nothing as Bolt explored his mouth. Ryan felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. He kind of enjoyed it. No longer shocked, Ryan pressed his hand on Bolt's chest. Bolt retaliated the action by laying a hand on Ryan's shorts. Ryan felt Bolt grasping the waistband, slowly pulling it.
