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He woke up before Dave. The curtains had been left open, the sun shone
in from high in the sky. It had to have been at least noon, if not
later, but he wasn't surprised they'd slept that long. It had been
late when they'd gone to bed, nearly four o'clock in the morning. They
couldn't seem to be able to keep their hands off of one another,
kissing and touching and kissing and more kissing. But they hadn't
gone *there*, John wouldn't let Dave take off either of their
undershirts and boxers. He just.. wasn't ready for that.

And maybe he was scared, too. He never liked change or chance; it'd
been the reason why, when he was younger, he'd nearly thrown up every
time an obstacle had been thrown his way. He'd gotten over that now,
but still his stomach knotted up when he was even slightly nervous.

Dave stirred. He was curled up behind John, his arm draped over John's
hip. It was like a huge, warm, comfy pillow behind him, but more than
that, because this pillow was alive and breathing and loved him.

Dave snuggled up to him, and was quiet again. It was a long time until
he moved again. John would've gotten up, gotten up and probably left,
but he was afraid he'd wake Dave, ruin his getaway.

There were lips on his neck. A hardness at his backside. He turned
onto his back, uncomfortable, turning to look at Dave. Almost
immediately his anxiety faded, just melted away, as he saw those
sleepy eyes looking at him, those sleepy eyes and that lazy smile. He
was smiling back before he even realized it.

Dave rolled onto his back, then his stomach, on the other side of the
bed now. He buried his face in the pillow and groaned loudly before
peeking up at John. "Morning."

"Morning," John responded.

"You sleep okay?" Dave asked, shifting closer to John, still on his
stomach. "I know this isn't exactly the bed of golden feathers you're
used to sleeping on back in the mansion."

"I managed."

"Good," Dave said, getting closer still, and then he was in John's
personal space again, one hand running down John's chest, lower and
lower. Dave flashed a mischevous grin that shot right to John's heart.
"I'd kiss you if I didn't have dog breath."

Those fingers were suddenly brushing over John's groin, lightly at
first but then Dave began to stroke him through the thin fabric of his
underwear, and John pulled back. "Dave."

Dave took his hand away, surprised. "Sorry. I thought.. I don't know.
Sorry."

"No, it's just.. " he began, but he didn't know what to say after
that. He let out a deep breath, frustrated, and lifted himself up
until he was sitting back against the headboard. "You said.. we didn't
have to rush this. That we could be friends first? I just.. don't want
to move too fast, you know?"

Dave got up and sat back, his expression guarded for a moment, but
then he nodded. "Sure. Yeah, okay. Uh.. I don't have any friends that
I make out with for hours, but if that's the way you want to do this,
then fine." He wasn't saying it with any type of edge or harshness,
but John could see the hurt in his eyes.

"Dave, please?" John asked. "I'm just.. I just want to be careful. I
don't want to ruin this."

Dave seemed to accept that. He nodded, and then cracked a small grin.
"Okay. Hands off, I got it. I'll wait for you, don't worry." He ran a
hand through his messy hair. "I'm going to take a shower. I'll try not
to use up all the hot water."

John nodded, watching Dave get up and leave the bedroom. He listened
for the sound of running water.. there was his cue. He got out of bed,
scrambling for his clothes. Shirt, pants, shoes.. he couldn't find his
socks. What the hell had happened to them?? He'd taken them off right
there, they couldn't have gone far. Fuck it, he didn't need them, he
just needed to get out of --

He stood up, turning quickly to get to the door but he only came face
to face with Dave. Oh, fuck. He looked so.. hurt. So hurt he was
broken. Fuck!

"Dave -- "

"No, no, it's.. " he interrupted, holding up his hands. He wouldn't
meet John's eye. "If you want to leave, that's fine, but you didn't
have to.. " Oh, shit, he was going to cry. His voice was thick, his
eyes were reddening, and John had never been more ashamed of himself
in his entire life. Dave looked up; those eyes, telling him
everything. "What was this? Were you getting back at me, or.. ? I said
I was sorry, I told you what happened, if you're still mad, you
should've just said it. You didn't have to -- " His voice broke and he
stopped. He took a deep breath. "That's fine. It's okay. I guess I
might deserve it. I just.. I needed a towel, that's all. Excuse me."

"Dave," John managed to choke out. "I'm sorry, I just -- "

"No, it's okay," Dave said, pulling open a drawer, grabbing a towel and
then slamming it closed. John flinched as Dave looked at him. "Just
go. Okay? Please? Just get out. I don't.. "

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"I don't want your sorries!!" Dave shouted, his voice cracking in a
falsetto alto. "Just get out, please, John."

"Okay," John replied quietly.

It was the hardest thing he'd ever done to get dressed and leave. But
nobody ever said life was easy.

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To be continued..
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