Chapter 1: Alice Cooper, Where Are You When We Need You?

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A/N: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any living persons is unintended and purely a coincidence.

Following the last chapter of Innocence Waning (by @chezdon1997):

Chezdon awoke with the feeling of a strange hand on top of the small mound called his penis. Amidst the folds of skin, one might be pardoned at thinking it perhaps some benign growth just starting to show itself. He tried to remember what could have possibly happened yesterday evening to lead to someone covering, almost crimping, his member. He turned and saw Austin sound asleep, his chest rising and falling with the almost silent breath sounds mixed in with an occasional snore. Usually, Chezdon liked his bedroom cool when sleeping. The air conditioner could never chill the room too much come bedtime. But finding himself scrunched up against Austin, feeling Austin's heat, felt just right to Chezdon. The need to be chilled this sleep just wasn't present. The feeling of being at peace with oneself had replaced it. It was truly a successful engagement with Morpheus.

Looking at the clock on the nightstand, Chezdon saw that it was 7 AM. Where had the night gone? It was at first a fuzzy recollection, at best dazed, the product of a enological debauchery that even Bacchus might have found embarrassing. So much for his vows to give up alcohol, coffee, social cigarettes, that silly white powder and opiates, and any other vice he could think of. He smiled as he thought about it. He'd made it six days. Six whole days. That was pretty good, right? It was longer than any other period when he tried to do likewise. Discipline just wasn't his thing. At least not most of the time. Maybe Mel was right, maybe he did have an addictive personality. He'd have to look into what to do about that at some point, just not now.

He needed to take a pisser. Badly. But how to get out of bed without waking Austin? He gently reached under Austin's wrist and started to raise it, at which point Austin stirred and pulled his arm away from Chezdon's body even as Chezdon looked down on his chest and saw the spoof spotting his chest and going all the way to the nubby folds of skin Austin's hand had had in its grasp, Chezdon's bladder now spasming as he plotted his exit from the bed, hopefully without disturbing further his mate—or bed partner if you prefer, his mobile having started spewing forth 5 Seconds of Summer's Amnesia.

Using his hands to lift his legs out from underneath the bed's top sheet wasn't successful, and Chezdon realized he needed to try something else. He then pushed his torso up off the bed and pulled his legs out from underneath the sheet, looking every 5 seconds at Austin. He smiled as he looked at the other boy, his attention then coming back to the damned alarm. Gradually, he made his way off the bed. Now off the bed and looking at the alarm clock as he turned it off, he thought his choice of music for the alarm to be strangely appropriate. He was having many, perhaps too many, nights that he couldn't remember what had happened, the worst being the one in which he seemingly called everyone of significance in his life.

As he put his feet firmly on the floor, Chezdon began to experience a different calling of nature and quickly made his way to the porcelain throne. Relief was just footsteps away.

There followed a shower and daily hygiene needs like brushing teeth. The shower felt good. Hot, wet. The stream massaged Chezdon's remaining ball. He had gotten used to the feeling of a solitary ball, but he cursed the physician who missed the diagnosis that killed its brother. Removal saved his life--or so the physicians said. The sole time he needed the help of the physicians in the national health service and they screwed up. One more example of the government getting too enmeshed in people's lives.

After getting dressed, Chezdon noticed that his bed was empty. Austin must be getting breakfast—an activity Chezdon was all too interested in sharing with his new lover.

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