Love's A Game

The Next Morning | Dealor

When John woke up slowly with the late mornings sun forcing him to have his eyes closed a few more minutes before he opened his eyes with an lazy sigh.

That was also the moment he realized that he wasn't laying in his own bed.
He was in someone else's.
By looking around he knew that it was Roger's room - the broken drumsticks, the dark blue painted walls and the fur coat hanging on the door made it obvious.

Roger was even right beside him and made absolutely no sounds while sleeping.
John didn't want to wake him up and decided to leave the room instead.
Until then, the bassist didn't question why he had been sleeping in Rogers bed. It actually happened quite often after the band got drunk.

But this time was different.
John put the wool blanket aside and sat up before he realized that he was naked.
Absolutely no piece of clothing on his body.
'No.' He thought with wide eyes. 'Please don't let this be true!'

He bent over to carefully take off the blanket from the on-his-belly-sleeping Roger, just to reveal an equally naked bum.
John, still not believing that what he saw was true, searched the bed sheet for suspicious stains - and tragically found some.

"Fuck." He whispered under his breath and wanted to get out of here as quick as possible.

John stood up and followed the line of his clothes, picking everything up.
He finally arrived at the end the rooms door and quietly opened it when Roger mumbled something.

"Good morning, John..."

Roger stretched and squeeked silently doing so.
John closed his eyes in embarrassment while his heart sunk down to his stomach. His grip around the doorknob got tighter and also sweaty. The other hand - which had dropped his clothes on the floor - hardly hid all of his genitals.

"I just wanted to leave, so..." John awkwardly said.

Roger rolled onto his back and started to frown.

"Why are you naked?" He ran his hands through his messy hair, then rubbed his eyes.

They wandered from John's face to his crotch, where they stayed a short while, and back up.
Obviously, John noticed and began to blush hardly.

"Stop looking at me! I can't really remember... but I guess we... You know?"

"Riiight. I wasn't as drunk as you. I can vaguely remember it now that you said it."

John stared at him. His mouth opened slightly and even more blood rushed to his face. He turned the knob but didn't open the door yet.

"ANYWAY- I'm going to my room now. It was a mistake. And wrong. We both know it."

Roger put the blanket away, stood up and slowly approached John, who stared at the ceiling in order to dodge his friends dick.

"You didn't say that last night."

'Maybe because I was fucking drunk?' John thought.

Roger sounded almost hurt and took John's hand away from his dick, getting so close to him that their noses were almost touching.
John had to cringe while also feeling his lips being attracted to Roger's.

"Kiss me." The drummer whispered provokative, knowing that John - even if he wanted to - couldn't refuse that offer.

The younger one tried to surpress his urges but eventually gave in. He softly laid his lips against Roger's, who quickly pulled away again only to press John against the door. Then he wet his lips before laying them gently on the other ones again. All while his hands slid from the brunettes lower back to his bum.
John gasped weakly but pulled Roger closer by his hips too.