Re: [Capital University: Misha & Damian]
Damian was okay. More tired than he normally was these days, off the morphine, but that could be blamed on the late night as easily as the substances he had imbibed. But, he was okay. And Misha seemed to be, as well—mostly, in any case, and as far as Damian could tell with a simple bit of poolside scrutiny. He laughed when he was splashed, and Damian assumed this was a good thing. He looked at Damian with apparent interest, which was good also. And he did not move when Damian climbed from the water.
There they were, practically against one another, on the lip of the pool, and Damian did not care about the public setting either. He smiled, chlorine-sticky, as hands found his hips. He received the kiss he was give and returned it, tasting of pool and chemicals. It was not a liberty that was taken. It was, if anything, expected and Damian would have likely felt confused had it not come.
This was not unusual for Damian—feeling confused. He wished it was. But, it was not. It was part of the issue from the night before. The confusion that came from his own frustrating lack of comprehension of what had to be simple topics. He hated that he struggled. He did not enjoy struggling. He was so used to excelling it felt horrible.—But, he was not thinking upon this because it was not relevant. What was relevant was Misha was here, whatever had occurred at the party. He was close, which Damian enjoyed, physically. And the boy was offering to swim. "If you desire," he replied of being joined. And he smiled at the challenge. It was not as smug as it might have been, but it was not not smug either. "You can bet whatever you would like." Wet fingers plucked just above Misha's dick at cotton, leaving a mark there. "If I win, I get to keep your bat pants."