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But now that I’ve been satisfied, I’m almost ashamed of the thoughts I’ve been having. I briefly recall thinking of Ethan at the worst time last night, and shake my head. I let the guilt have it’s run and find solace in the fact that I don’t think my hormones will be a problem any longer. I feel like I can breath a little easier and put things into perspective.
Seriously though, Kyle, holy shit. I needed that. Though, I’m glad he’s just visiting. Keep it strictly physical, not that anything could blossom between us anyways. What with the hundreds of miles between us. Maybe I should drink next Saturday too…
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Fuck. Alcohol. Dehydration from my night of drinking can be put off no longer. I slip on a black tank top and some sleep shorts and enter the basement living room. I hear someone upstairs as I make my way. When I enter the kitchen, Ethan is there in a white t-shirt and pajama pants, his back to me, making coffee.
“Morning,” Ethan chimes in a friendly tone, glancing over his shoulder. “What’s up? Can you make me some of that?” I ask, and by the tone of my voice, caffeine should be a given.

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