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“Hope you’re okay with boxer briefs. That’s all I have, so it’ll have to work for tonight until we can get your stuff. Don’t worry, everything is clean.”
While he went to change in the bathroom, I quickly grabbed some clean underwear, shorts, and an undershirt. He was taking a little longer than I thought necessary, but he was probably redressing his injuries. I knocked on the door and told him I was stepping into the hallway to get some extra blankets and to go take a quick shower. I hurried down the hall to the bathroom Morgan shared with Chase. Since it was empty, I took a shower and then grabbed some blankets before heading back to my room. When I came back into the room, he still wasn’t out, but it gave me a chance to make my makeshift bed on the floor for tonight. I didn’t mind at all sleeping on the floor. It was an easy tradeoff for Patrick’s safety.
It hadn’t taken me any time at all to fall asleep, but sometime after midnight I woke up to faint murmuring. I raised my head off the pillow and looked toward the top of the bed. It looked like Patrick was tossing and turning. I sat up and figured he was having a bad dream, so I stood and briefly watched him get tangled in the sheets as he murmured faint broken phrases.
“Patrick.” I called his name with no reaction from him.
His body was on the side farthest from me, and being a double bed, I couldn’t easily reach him without setting a knee on the mattress and leaning over. With my left hand on top of my headboard, I leaned over to jostle him and wake him from his dream.
“Patrick, wake up, man.”
If calling his name hadn’t woken him up, the moment my hand touched his arm woke him right up. And holy fuck, you’d have thought I was the bad guy. He panicked in the dark and tried to push and shove at me. I wrapped my hands around his wrists to keep him from smacking me until he regained his bearings.
“Patrick, relax, it’s me, Hollis.”
I let go of him long enough to reach over and turn my nightstand light on so he could see me. I sat on the side of the bed and looked at him. Now with the light on, I saw how seriously frightened and stressed he was. His eyes were wary, and there were wrinkled lines on his forehead. His mouth hung open as his eyes moved around. He was either trying to make sense of where he was, or the content of his dream was swirling about in his head. His hands and fingers twisted nervously together as he wrapped them around his knees that he had pulled up close to his chest.
“Patrick, you’re safe here,” I whispered.
He nodded.
“I… um… I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked me.
I raised an eyebrow at him and smiled.
“No, not at all. Don’t worry about it.”
He nodded again and looked down at his legs. He still looked off and affected from the dream. His leg bounced as he fidgeted nervously.
“Hey, want to play a few hands of cards to get your mind off the dream? I have a deck of Uno cards,” I offered.
“Yeah.” He looked me in the eyes and nodded. “That would be good.”
I pulled my deck of cards from the nightstand and quietly shuffled them. While we played, I noticed his nervous leg movements slowed, and by the fifth hand of cards, it had stopped. He was settling down.
After the tenth hand of cards, he had stretched out on his side. A few hands later, he pulled the pillow over and rested his head on it while we played. When he pulled his arm inside his t-shirt, I said something.
“Hey, are you cold?”
“A little.”
I set my cards on the bed and stretched to grab the sheet and blanket. I pulled them up to his shoulder and then moved our card game up farther on the bed. I reached over the side of the bed and grabbed my pillow from the floor and folded it in half so I could lean on it while we played.
“You warming up?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Despite both of our eyelids closing and then jerking awake, we continued to play. Patrick needed the distraction, and I didn’t mind. It was the weekend anyhow.
I realized I had dozed off when I woke up hours later. I was on the edge of the bed, and Uno cards were trapped under me and sandwiched between Patrick and me. Patrick’s head was at an awkward angle with his forehead resting on the side of my chest between my body and arm. But most noticeable was his hand resting against the outline of my hard-on over my shorts.
I made the slightest move to lean to my right while my foot tried to grab the sheet and move it toward my outstretched hand, causing Patrick’s head to fall back to the mattress. The natural movement of leaning to my side slid my shaft downward, making Patrick’s hand slide toward the head of my dick. It was the movement of his head hitting the mattress that caused him to wake and raise his head. My pulse raced as he looked at me with sleepy eyes and an Uno card stuck to his cheek, but he hadn’t removed his hand. I was almost afraid to move.
“Go back to sleep, Patrick. I’m just getting the sheet,” I whispered.
“You’re not leaving?” he asked wearily. I felt his hand flex and twitch against my shaft while my eyes were on his.
I shook my head.
“No, just getting the sheet.”
I slowly leaned back and pulled the sheet over us, and his hand slid down my shaft and nestled against my balls. Once I was flat on my back, I moved my left arm around him and held on to him. His breathing evened out, and his chest rose and fell calmly against my palm. He had fallen back to sleep, leaving me with this raging hard-on. I found myself slightly moving my hips here and there to feel the friction his hand created.
This was a brand-new experience for me, and I was in no hurry for him to remove his hand. I was even okay with him leaning against me, and clearly, he was okay with it.
If he was okay… and I was okay… was this okay?
