Who: Edwin and Georgie When: After sexy-times Where: Edwin's room
In the short amount of time between Oliver leaving the empty bedroom and his own exit, Edwin's euphoria was suddenly battling against a strong sense of surrealism for top emotion at the moment. Everything had been great from the moment Oliver had met him in that room, aside from a few of his own insecurities. But that was about him, and not about Oliver. Oliver was great. Everything was great. Shouldn't it have been less great? Shouldn't it have been strange, because it was Oliver? He'd never stopped to consider what it would be like to be with. He'd made countless old jokes about him! He'd probably have to stop doing that now.
None of this bothered him, it just felt so strange, and he hoped that that would pass by the time they met again tomorrow. And if it didn't, they could just working on it until it wasn't so surreal. He had a feeling that bringing in toys might help that feeling. Or maybe he just really, really wanted to tie Oliver up, or the other way around.
He was still caught up in fantasies when he got up to his room, walking slower than normal. Fuck, he was going to be sore. It was going to be great. He rubbed the spot where Oliver had bit just below his ass as he entered his room, and it remained there when he stopped. He was not expecting what was on his bed, and he stood, one hand on his rear, the other on the doorknob, staring.