Then he sits back and smiles. “You need help with your shirt and pants? Or are you too drunk?”
I try to get my shirt unbuttoned and give up after the first one. He helps me out, unbuttoning it down to the fourth button and then pulling it up and over my head for me, followed by my undershirt.
I flop back. “Might as well strip me, sir.”
He laughs again, shaking his head as he reaches down and unfastens my belt and slacks. I sort of flop around a little so he can get them down and off me, then I lay there in my briefs, unsure what I’m supposed to do next.
“You want to sleep like that?” he asks. “Because I gotta say, that doesn’t look comfortable.”
“I’m stuck, sir.”
He helps me sit up and gets me turned and situated on the bed. He strips down to his boxers and turns on the TV, then turns off the lights. He grabs his laptop and sits up next to me.
I roll over onto my side and look up at him. “Thank you for tonight, sir.”
His gaze settles on me, and it feels like something’s passed between us.
Or maybe I’m justreallyfucking drunk. Still, I trust Carter, especially after the way he took care of me at my mom’s house.
He reaches over and runs a hand through my hair, ruffling it playfully, a smile on his face that almost looks…sad. “You’re very welcome, boy. Happy birthday.” He’s looking at something on the screen.
“What are those?”
“Hmm?”
I squint, trying to see, and point, but everything’s blurry.
“Oh, it was a link on Facebook. You know how much I love Doctor Who.”
“Yeah?” It’s something we share, although he knows more about the show than I do.
“They’re rings with Gallifreyan writing on them.”
Okay, the more I look, and squint, the more I can see that’s what they are, a dark blue with the round, ornate scrollwork etched in grey. “Those are cool.”
“Yeah.” I don’t understand the wistful, almost sad expression he’s suddenly wearing, so I decide to try to cheer him up.
“Do you want to talk?” I ask.
“Sure.” He sets his laptop aside. “What do you want to talk about?”
I shrug. I’m at a loss now. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Done what?”
“Sleep with a guy.”
I think he’s humoring me. “You haven’t, huh? Seems like you’ve fallen asleep in my bed a couple of times already.”
“Oh.” I think about that. “Yeah, I guess I have. Sorry.”
“No, I didn’t mind at all. I sleep better with you there.”
That makes me feel good in unexpected ways. “Then if you need me to, you ask me. I’m happy to.”
“I will.” He studies me. “So what do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know. What do guys usually talk about?”
