Lessons On Kissing Guys (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 21

When I wake up, my head is aching with a ferocity that would put any roaring tiger to shame. The reason behind this ache however, is a complete blur.

Voices are coming from somewhere nearby, and looking around at my surroundings, I realise that I'm lying on the sofa (where I'd usually sleep if I don't fall asleep at the kitchen table), and the voices must be coming from the kitchen. What's unusual about this is the fact that there are too many voices. Oh, and I have a headache. Those two factors are by far what makes this morning feel... different. Almost as if something special is going to happen. 

Did I forget to mention that I also don't remember how I got to the sofa? Well, I have absolutely no recollection of getting to the sofa.

It royally sucks that I have no fucking clue what's going on.

Stretching my arms above me and sitting up, I silently curse myself for being so forgetful, having a headache, and overthinking the simple act of waking up. But as the talking continues, I put the curses aside, curiosity taking over.

Slowly but surely, I make my way over to the door that will take me to the kitchen, whilst attempting to soothe the pain in my head by rubbing the sore spot. Blatantly, it does nothing to help.

I'm so close to opening the door and walking through, complaining about the ache in my head when I hear a voice that I swear I haven't heard in far too long (unless dreams count). This most definitely stops me in my tracks. So much so that I bang into the wall and fall over, something crashing to the ground beside me. 

This morning is cracking up to be something incredible already, by the looks of it. "Fuck." I'm just about aware of the single curse coming from my lips as I lift my hand to my head once again. 

A hand is swiftly grabbing ahold of my forearm and lifting my from the ground. "You always know how to make an entrance." Shit fuck wanker! What is going on? He shouldn't be here. I mean, I'm glad he's here, but he could've given me some sort of warning, instead of leaving me with my mouth hanging open, not at all sure what I should be thinking. Plus, I'm not one hundred per cent sure I should be glad that he's here. I mean, that fight (although I can't remember exactly what it was over) was a big deal and- "Lucas, stop staring at me."

"But-" I don't know what to say. My thoughts are completely tangled and the only thing I can seem to register is 'Blair... fuck... B-L-A-I-R... what... fucking?' Needless to say, I'm not going to be able to get out a good sentence anytime soon.

"Oh, fuck it." That just shocks me more, considering that Blair isn't known for cursing so much. He pulls me into a hug that I'm pretty sure lasts for an eternity. Definitely not complaining though. In fact, after three seconds of remaining stiff as a stick, with Blair's arms around me, I relax. I embrace him so wholly. Resting my head in the crook of his neck, I try to take in every ounce of him, whilst trying to convince myself that this isn't another one of these fucked up dreams I seem to be having recently. 

Please don't be a dream.

"You're not dreaming."

"What?" Oh. I said that aloud by the looks of it.

I don't know what he says next, I just know that I never want to leave this warm embrace. Ever. I inhale, loving the way Blair smells fresh and clean as always. Although, he seems to be down dressed, as my skin rubs against a softness that can only come from the fabric of a vest top - not the frequently worn buttoned-up T-shirts he seems to own far too many versions of.

I'm almost aching to feel his lips on mine after over a week without him, but I know that it's not important right now. What's important is this moment, and this embrace, and this feeling. I rest my head further into the crook of his neck, closing my eyes so tightly that they start to hurt a little. A part of me still won't let go of the idea that I'm dreaming, so I'm holding onto him as firmly as I possibly can. But he doesn't complain. He just hugs me back tighter, too.