An Indian and His Tide (ManxMan)

11: Muddy Waters Ain't Too Bad

It's fucking hot, Ranil thought as he laid on his side. Covers were draped over him from under his chin down to his feet. With a heavy sigh he rolled over to gain access to the cooler side of the bed.

Ranil let out a loud yelp as he tumbled down, fumbling with his covers before he hit the ground face first.

"Fuck!" He cursed while rubbing his head.

A door was opened before someone asked, "Are you okay?"

Ranil observed his surroundings and mumbled a few more curses. Apparently he was sleeping on a couch. An ottoman was on the other side of him and he thanked the gods he didn't bop his head on it.

"Yeah I'm fine." He finally replied while looking for the person who asked the question. Why was he sleeping on a couch anyway? Then he realized why as before him stood a God himself.

A Roman God.

Ranil's heart fluttered.

Roman stood there in all his glory wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Showing off arms that should have been illegal. Who gave Roman permission to show off guns like that? Were those even legal? Those suckers were weapons of mass destruction and Ranil's heart was being shot on sight!

"Are you sure?" Roman asked with a concerned look.

Ranil was afraid to answer for fear of sounding like Porky Pig. His jaw stayed lowered.

"I hope you don't have a concussion." Roman concluded sarcastically, walking to his bed, picking up a piece of cloth that was on it.

Ranil's eyes followed his every move and he bit his lip as he watched a certain area under the back and above the legs. After slipping on the tank top and typing something on the laptop situated on his bed, Roman turned back around and Ranil's eyes immediately snapped up.

Roman's face took on a look of amusement, "Are you checking me out?" He asked playfully.

"Define 'checking you out'." Ranil asked, finally picking himself up from the floor and folding the blanket that was once covering him.

He heard the smirk in Roman's voice, "I mean, are you staring at my ass?" He asked haughtily.

Ranil snorted, "You thought." He replied.

Roman nodded and said, "Oh okay. Just making sure." Then he let out a small chuckle, turning to his nightstand and reaching for a watch, "Just make sure to wipe your mouth. It's not wise to get used to slobbering."

Ranil's hands immediately flew to his mouth. There was no way in hell there was slobber! When he heard Roman snickering, he reached for pillow from the couch and threw it at him. Roman defended himself, the pillow bouncing off his forearm.

"Fuck you!" Ranil raged playfully.

Roman only winked in reply.

Ranil laughed shyly and set the folded blanket on the couch.

"I ordered breakfast for us. I hope you don't mind. I got pancakes, eggs and bacon. The usual." Roman informed Ranil as he took a white button down shirt from the drawer.

Ranil twisted his face. "I don't really eat pork." He noted.

Roman spun around with his shirt on but unbuttoned, "Shit, I'm so sorry! Is it religious? If it is I can understand, my dad's Muslim so-"

Ranil laughed, "No, it's not that. I just would rather not eat it." Pigs were considered filthy animals and he's made it this far in life without eating them. Which was hard considering North Carolina lives off of sausage and bacon. Barbecue in the Carolinas meant pulled pork, roasted pork, barbecued pork, grilled pork and porked pork. Country fried ham was literally on every menu for breakfast.