“Go ‘way,” Mathlin mumbled, shoving weakly at the long, hard thing. It moved a little under the pillowcase, so he shoved at it again.
A sound came from the wheezy machine above his head. When the long, hard thing still didn’t budge, Mathlin curled his fingers around it, trying to push it off. It moved a little but seemed to be stuck. His pillow twitched.
Then he had an epiphany: the long, hard thing wasunderthe pillowcase. That was why it wouldn’t leave.
Mathlin released it and nudged his fingers under the unpleasant thick band, finding more fuzzy pillow. He pushed his hand down and down, until he found the long, hard thing. It was cylindrical, smooth and hot, and it fitted perfectly in his hand.
It jerked. Something made a sound.
“Hmm,” Mathlin said, changing his mind. The long, hard thing could stay.
He fell back asleep still holding it.
Mathlin wokeup to find his head rising and falling with his pillow. Aside from the odd movement, his pillow was perfect. Warm and safe. Big and comfy.
He snuggled closer, his fingers squeezing around... a long, hard thing.
Why is it wet?
He released the thing to rub his fingers together. Slippery. Something smelled musky.
Curious now, he felt around his pillow, finding a big wet patch under the long, hard thing. Where had the wetness come from? He wrapped his hand back around the familiar length, squeezing it lightly.
Something wheezed above his head.
When he looked up, he found hazel eyes watching him, pupils dilated.
Titan.
“What’re you doing in my bed?” Mathlin yelped.
“Yourbed?”
“Yeah! You’re sleeping in my bed!”
Titan snorted, the corners of his lips curving up. “Math, do you recognize anything in this room?”
Mathlin glanced around, his eyes adjusting to his moonlit surroundings. The room was slightly bigger than his room back at the Cartfalls safehouse, and roughly the same size as Ottis’ living room. Paintings covered the walls; pictures of wolves, pictures of croissants, and even one with several wolves holding pastries in their mouths.
He definitely didnotrecognize the carved wooden dresser, or the ornate mirror, or the plush armchair in one corner of the room.
“We agreed last night that you were sleeping in my bed, so you wouldn’t have to sleep under yours,” Titan rumbled. “I’m watching your back, remember?”
Mathlin’s eyes widened. “Okay, that sounds familiar.”
Yesterday’s memories filled his mind: collecting Titan’s cum in several vials, Titan’s cock thrusting between his cheeks. Titan sucking on his throat in front of a customer, and Mathlin following him home so he could... help Titan dress and undress.
Because both of Titan’s arms were hurt.
Mathlin yelped and jerked away, looking down. “Did I hurt you?”
Titan shook his head, sucking in a shaky breath. “You didn’t. My arm’s tucked against my body, so you didn’t jostle it much when you came closer.”
Was it Mathlin, or did Titan’s voice sound strained?
“You’re breathing hard,” Mathlin said, confused. “Is your other arm okay?”
“Left arm’s fine too.” Titan licked his lips. “Did you sleep well?”
