The Morning After.

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"That was..." He paused "That was something."  He said slowly, still unsure of his own feelings. He'd never expected it would go this far. They were just friends.

Friends... Even the word sturred feelings he hadn't known he possesed. He didn't want to be just friends. But did he want to be lovers?

Jay ran his hands through his hair. He sat up, in the king size bed he took up next to no space. He was a little slither of nothing.

He looked around the room, clothes lay everywhere. They'd made such a mess in their passion last night. Everything probably needed replacing or something needed to be fixed on it.

If they'd made that much mess to the room...

He looked at himself, at his chest. His pale white skin was covered in little red marks.

Fingernail marks.

He tried to remember last night. How did he get them? He couldn't remember. He could, however, remember a lot more interesting things.

He could remember being pulled tight again another warm body, and wanting to get closer.

He could remember their sweaty bodies moving to a silent rhythm.

He could remember ever sigh and moan of pleasure, from both of them.

He could remember their syncronised heart beats, almost as thought they were one.

He could remember them kissing. Soft lips, warm tongue, a taste of perfection.

Could this be what he truly wanted?