Strange // Ryllon

fourteen

Pain.

I forgot why I don't drink that often, and now I remember why. The pain of a hangover.

I feel my head pounding and a sick feeling in my stomach. I quickly notice that my ass feels extremely sore as well. The room is bright, I'm in a lot of pain, and I can't remember anything from last night. I go to sit up, but the sight of some of my clothes scattered across the end of Dallon's bed makes me stop. My eyes widen a bit. I'm snuggled into him, naked bodies intertwined as he holds me close. It feels good on my head. The feeling of his hand in my hair and my forehead pressed against his neck is so comforting and I can't get enough of it.

I close my eyes and lightly think. We got drunk and had sex and I don't remember it, that's all obvious, but how on earth do we go from here? I'm living with him and we probably just ruined everything by having sex. He's gonna wake and suffer with a hangover and the dreading realization that he had drunk sex with me. How do you even explain something like that to someone? By the way, we had drunk sex even though you know I classify you more as a temporary roommate more than I would a friend.

I peel myself away from him and manage to quietly get out of bed, locating my boxers as quickly as I can. There's a hickey on my hip. I bet drunk me loved it. Sober me would do anything for it. I remember the first time Brendon found out how insane I go over someone kissing and sucking my hips. He made sure to do it whenever he wanted to tease me.

My hips are slightly bruised and my wrists feel a little sore. Pinning me down and holding me tight by my hips, how on earth did Dallon know what makes me go insane? Did I tell him? Either way, he's definitely forgotten by now.

I open the drawer and grab a pair of Dallon's sweatpants. I find a sweater and walk over to the window to close the curtains. I'll spare him. He's never had a hangover before and I want to make it as less shitty as possible.

It takes me a bit to safely get to the bathroom. I think I may still be a little drunk. I'll get water, maybe lay down, explain what happened to Dallon when he wakes up, try to figure out why the hell I'm not freaked out about this as much as I should be.

I have strong feelings for Dallon, I know that, but I feel like I should regret this. I wonder what he felt like. He obviously is big and fucked me quite hard because I feel sore as hell, but I wonder how we did it. Maybe I rode him, we were face-to-face, I was on my hands and knees. He obviously pinned me down so I think it had to be face-to-face.

I was damn selfish to get drunk just to end up having sex with him. I shouldn't have gotten drunk. It was dumb and a mistake, because now I can't remember it. I should've just told him I wanna have sex with him, not drink, because now I have to become a detective to figure out if it was good or not.

We made out on the couch and I think we walked to his room, or maybe we made out on the bed. Maybe we used lube, maybe he ate me out, maybe he just spit on his fingers and went from there. The thought of him eating me out is suddenly too erotic. Him jerking me off while he pushes his tongue inside of me, maybe pushing in a finger or two, making me lose it. Maybe he blew me and fingered me and it drove me insane. Maybe he laughed because of how easy it is to make me squirm, but I have absolutely no clue because we were drunk.

And that's my fault.

We should have been sober because now it's awkward. I don't know if he wanted it because it was me, or if he was horny and hasn't gotten laid in months and I was willing. If we were sober, then we would know we both wanted it. I don't know if he actually wanted me or if he wanted sex, and I have no idea how the hell I am gonna ask it without it being awkward.

I get dressed and go to the bathroom and splash some water on my face before searching through Dallon's medicine cabinet for some painkillers. A bottle falls onto the counter, the sound making me jump slightly and wince, but I pick it up.

"Escitalopram," I say quietly. I frown and grab my phone, typing it in and waiting. The screen loads and my heart sinks. I look at the bottle, then the screen, then clear the app and turn off my phone before putting the bottle back.

He takes antidepressants.

I don't know why that suddenly breaks my heart, but it does, and it hurts a lot more than I ever thought it would. He's so nice and happy and careful all the time, he can't be depressed.

A rush of protection and care hits me and I suddenly want to hold him and kiss him and tell him I love him and tell him everything will be okay. I wanna take care of him when he's upset and sick and having an episode. I wanna help him and be there for him.

I find the painkillers and close the cabinet, leave the bathroom, close all the curtains and light some candles, then make my way to the kitchen. I fill the kettle with water, turn it on, go through the whole process of trying to make the house as soothing and calm as possible until I hear Dallon groan quietly in the bedroom. I take a deep breath.

Fuck.