This isn't even my bed (Piotr)
Max didn't remember going to bed with a warm body; in fact, he didn't remember curling up in bed at all. He distinctly remembered going to sleep on the couch, which was the spot he'd grown rather accustomed to passing out at. But, when he started to wake up, he felt a body beside him and could hear the breathing.
Not sure if he was dreaming or if he had somehow managed to get into a multicab situation with a new friend, he went with it. He ignored his instinct for the moment, the one that highly suggested opening his eyes and looking; no, instead, he rolled over and wrapped his arm about the body, sliding a leg over as well.
He would have snuggled in a little more, but the scent coming off the body wasn't what it should have been. It wasn't death, something odd that Max worried would happen - waking up with a dead body - but male. There had been a time or two in college he'd woken up next to a fellow male collegiate, but he hadn't done something like that in a long time.
"Evan, if you're in my bed, get out." was mumbled. "If I'm in yours, suck it." came mumbled after.